Volunteer Burnout

One topic that I touched on a few months ago when I was experiencing self-doubt is burnout. It’s real, and at the risk of sharing too much, I’m going to discuss it and how it’s severely affecting me as a Girl Scout volunteer. I don’t think this is a recent development because I look at the signs and see that I’ve been struggling with it for at least four or five years. I just received my 15 Years of Service pin, and frankly, I don’t think I’ll make it to twenty. My youngest daughter graduates in two years, and I’m seriously wrestling with hanging it all up after she’s done.

So what are the signs of burnout? I pulled up some information online from a variety of sources. Here they are summarized (thanks to ChatGPT):

Emotional signs:

• Feeling drained and emotionally exhausted
• Increased irritability, frustration, or mood swings
• Feeling detached or alone in the world
• Loss of motivation or enthusiasm
• A sense of failure or self-doubt
• Feeling cynical or negative about work or responsibilities

Physical signs:

• Chronic fatigue, even after resting
• Frequent headaches or muscle pain
• Changes in sleep habits (insomnia or oversleeping)
• Lowered immunity (getting sick more often)
• Appetite changes (eating more or less than usual)

Mental/behavioral signs:

• Difficulty concentrating or remembering things
• Decreased performance and productivity
• Withdrawing from responsibilities or social activities
• Procrastinating more than usual
• Using food, drugs, or alcohol to cope

I’m looking at this list, and I’m recognizing quite a few of them when it comes to my GS responsibilities. Without a doubt, I’m suffering from major burnout. How did this happen?

For a majority of my Girl Scout career, most folks would describe me as someone who lived and died by Girl Scouts. I was always enthusiastic and showed up to events with bells on, and I passionately believed in what Girl Scouts delivered as a life changing program. It made a huge difference for me growing up, and I wanted to give that back to the girls of today.

But through the years, things chipped away at that passion.

I don’t network in the council or nationally like I used to, and I’ve withdrawn. I no longer look forward to leader get-togethers and just stick to my ever-dwindling circle. I’ve been burned by folks (staff AND volunteers), and I don’t want that to ever happen again. It seems as if I’ll have spurts of inspiration and success, but then something comes along to dampen any enthusiasm that crops up. I would give you some examples, but it would involve identifying certain individuals in my council, and I don’t want to go there. All I’ll say is toxicity kills. I have very little patience left when things don’t go as planned or when the ball is dropped, and I don’t have the energy anymore to lift others up. Our last council CEO once told me that I was an informal leader in our council. That may have been the case at one time, but I don’t believe it is now. I’m a shadow of what I once used to be.

And the burnout hasn’t come just from adults. It’s been the girls too. I had years where the younger girls were extremely challenging to work with, and it just sucked the joy out of meetings. I started to dread dealing with them. Once one of my levels reached high school age, it became almost impossible to meet with them due to their schedules. The girls would constantly cancel plans for get-togethers but yet complain that we never did anything. That wore on me too, and a huge weight came off my shoulders when they all graduated. Don’t get me wrong – I loved those girls and I was very proud of them, but the constant pressure of trying to get them together caused me undue guilt because I felt like we never did anything. I cared too much.

And then there are my own daughters, and I’m sure I will receive some criticism for what I’m about to say. My oldest daughter never really cared about Girl Scouts. She’d go to meetings with a sigh, roll her eyes, make rude comments during meetings, and act disinterested but yet continued to say “yes” when I asked if she still wanted to rejoin at the end of the year. She always blamed me and said I “expected” her to stay in GS, but in actuality, part of me wished she would quit so I wouldn’t have to deal with her attitude. Earning Silver was an extremely stressful and drama-filled experience, so I left it completely up to her to earn Gold. She didn’t and wasn’t interested. Which was fine because getting a job in high school served her better and helped her mature more than the Gold Award ever would have. I hate saying that as a Gold Award recipient myself, but it’s true. It’s not for everyone. Ironically, she used her Silver Award project as the topic of her college application essay.

My youngest daughter likes GS more than my oldest did, but she could really take or leave it when it comes down to it. Considering I can’t even get her to finish her Take Action project for a Journey, I seriously doubt she will earn Gold. It seems like most of the more passionate leaders I see in my council have daughters who go above and beyond in Girl Scouting, and I think a lot of their devotion stems from seeing the difference it makes in their own daughters’ lives. When your own daughters don’t care about it, it stunts your own passion on some level.

A co-leader of mine took over my troop last year and rebooted it. She brought in new girls of all ages. I hoped that would spark some enthusiasm, but I found that by and large, I’m disinterested except in spurts. I used to love putting together programming, but I’ve found our national badge program boring, repetitive, and lacking in depth. I had to do a lot of massaging the first and second go-arounds to make it interesting to the girls, or I just used retired badges. I just don’t have the willingness or energy to deal with that a third time.

A few weekends ago, I was asked to visit a troop and talk to them about our Trailblazer opportunities and backpacking. After the meeting, I ended up chatting with the leader for a little while. She originally started as a leader in the late 80s and 90s, took off 11 to 12 years, and then started back leading her granddaughter’s troop. She said the difference in being a leader between those two periods is like night and day. I mentioned that I’m suffering from burnout, and she said she wasn’t surprised because it’s so much harder to be a leader these days. I asked her what she saw as the main difference between her two periods of leading, and she said so much more is put onto volunteers’ shoulders now. She said the legacy council (before the mergers) put on more programming, led better trainings, and took on more of the responsibilities of Girl Scouting in general. Now it’s been pushed onto volunteers who don’t have the time, resources, or know-how to do it, so a lot has fallen through the cracks. And of those volunteers who do take up the slack, more is expected of them, it eventually wears them down, and they quit. This is the legacy of the Core Business Strategy, but I digress.

There are ways to recover from burnout, but I don’t know if it’s possible in my case. I’ve tried to turn my attention toward outdoor based activities (like Trailblazers) that pique my interest to replenish my enthusiasm, but I don’t believe it’s sustainable due to the direction of Girl Scouting and my council’s weak foundation in the outdoors. I keep trying, though. For now.

My attention is starting to turn toward other interests like finally becoming a certified parliamentarian. Perhaps this is the normal progression of life, and I’m going through a change in seasons. I was asked this past weekend if I still believed in the Girl Scout mission, and for the first time, I didn’t know how to honestly answer that question. But what I do know is if I don’t get my Girl Scout mojo back, I will just be another volunteer in a long line that’s left and never looked back.