From Ranks of Jobless, a Flood of Volunteers

March 16, 2009, The New York Times — Until November, Lisa Traina had a classic New York glamour job: organizing private parties in the Art Deco opulence of the Rainbow Room. Now she spends 10-hour shifts walking down gritty sidewalks trying to persuade homeless people to go to the Bowery Mission for food and shelter.

“I worked at the top of the world,” she said. “And the next day you’re working down on Broadway and saying to somebody, ‘Let me show you where you can get a bowl of soup for the night.’ ”

After being laid off, Ms. Traina, 50, enlisted in the growing army of the newly unemployed that have been marching into the offices of nonprofit organizations since the recession hit, looking to do some good, maybe network a little or simply fill the hours they used to be at the office.

They have searched for tasks on volunteernyc.org — which last month had 30 percent more visitors than in February 2008 — and forced New York Cares, an umbrella organization, to add extra new-volunteer orientations at a Whole Foods Market downtown that quickly booked solid an unheard-of three weeks in advance. In Philadelphia, Big Brothers Big Sisters has seen a 25 percent increase in inquiries from potential mentors over this time last year. And the Taproot Foundation, a San Francisco-based organization that places skilled professionals in volunteer positions, had more people sign up on one day earlier this year than in an entire month a year ago.

Many who run nonprofits have marveled at the sudden flood of bankers, advertising copywriters, marketing managers, accountants and other professionals eager to lend their formidable but dormant skills. The Financial Clinic, which counsels the working poor on economic matters, recently dispatched an M.I.T.-educated ex-Wall Street type to help people in Chinatown prepare their tax returns.

“One person’s trash is another person’s treasure,” said Elizabeth Mitchell, a marketing manager for the nonprofit organization Learning Leaders.

But others grumbled that the current love affair with volunteerism, encouraged by President Obama’s nationwide call to public service, can be a mixed blessing. Smaller organizations, with staffs of fewer than 20 and no full-time volunteer coordinator, have struggled to absorb the influx, especially since many of them have simultaneously had to cut back on projects in the face of dwindling donations and government grants.

“Can you make them stop calling?” groused one nonprofit executive, who spoke on the condition of anonymity. “Everybody’s inspired by Obama,” he said, adding: “They also don’t have jobs.”

Lindsay Firestone, who manages pro bono projects for Taproot, said the organization had scaled back recruitment this year after attracting more volunteers than it could possibly accommodate. “It’s like a Greek tragedy,” she said. “We’re thrilled to have all of these volunteers. But now organizations are stuck not being able to take advantage of it because they don’t have adequate funding.”

Bertina Ceccarelli, a senior vice president at the United Way in New York — which partners with the mayor’s office to run the volunteernyc.org matching service — said the outpouring was similar to that after 9/11 — except that the new volunteers have more time to fill.

“It’s sad but true,” Ms. Ceccarelli said, “but the irony is that sometimes it’s almost more work to find something for a volunteer to do than to just turn them away.”

None of that has dimmed the volunteers’ enthusiasm.

Continuum Hospice Care, which assists New Yorkers at the end of their lives, has started a waiting list this year for volunteers. Allison Maughn, the interim president, said many of them were hoping that their unpaid work would eventually turn into a paid job, and have been raising their hands for the most menial tasks, like stuffing envelopes and data entry. “They’re even happy to sit at the reception desk and answer the phones,” she said in amazement.

New York Cares had double the number of volunteers this February as last, and a survey the group conducted showed that a third of them were unemployed. At one of two packed orientation sessions on Thursday, aspiring volunteers scribbled notes as they listened to Dennis Tseng, a cheerful 27-year-old, speak rapid-fire for nearly an hour about the nuts and bolts. The session, held adjacent to a cafe in Whole Foods, was so full that latecomers had to stand and lean against a wall.

“Right now, I could volunteer about five times a week,” said Emily Jimenez, 29, who lives on Staten Island and was laid off last month from the Milford Plaza hotel in Midtown. “If they’d want me to.”

Katherine Howie, an out-of-work lawyer, wrote “N/A currently” under employment information on the orientation forms. “I don’t mind making a commitment,” she said. “I’m happy to work with children, or sports, or recreation. I just want something to fill my time.”

Nini Duh, 29, was laid off from Lehman Brothers in September and now volunteers at any number of places — an elementary school, a finance workshop in Chinatown — nearly every day. It is a welcome change from her 100-hour weeks before her investment bank went bankrupt.

“Now I get to wake up when it’s light outside, and things start at 10 instead of 7 in the morning,” said Ms. Duh, who lives in Flushing, Queens. “Sometimes I think, ‘If this was my job, this would be nice.’ ”

God’s Love We Deliver, which provides food to the severely ill in their homes across New York City, has seen a record number of the recently laid-off among its 1,400-member volunteer corps, according to Karen Pearl, the organization’s president and chief executive. Among them is Eryka Teisch, who saw her job disappear when her financial technology firm downsized in September. God’s Love initially asked her for two hours a week.

“I laughed,” said Ms. Teisch, 39. “I just said, ‘That’s great, but I kind of want to add a zero to that number.’ ”

Ms. Teisch said the experience — she works in the kitchen, the office, wherever she is needed — has been a therapeutic tonic for her workaholic, Type-A personality. A bonus is the chance to bond with her fellow unemployed volunteers.

“You try not to focus on the bitter side — you know, ‘I hated my company and I can’t believe what they did to me,’ ” Ms. Teisch said. “At least we have something to wake up to in the morning, rather than focusing on getting another job in this very difficult economy.”

Because the typical volunteer is still job-hunting on the side — Ms. Teisch, for example, said she was looking “aggressively” — some nonprofit executives are already bracing for when the economy picks up and the new army finds paid employment.

“My hope is when they decide it’s time to do something else, they have fond memories of what they learned at United Way,” Ms. Ceccarelli said.

After a pause, she added: “Maybe they’ll even become a donor. I’ll tell you, there isn’t an executive director in town who doesn’t think that way.”