Opioids killed the Swimming Star

Never in a million years would I have thought I would see the Red Cross Water Safety program retire.  I think I had an unquestioning faith that it was untouchable.  That no one would ever shelve something so amazing.  This program, that impacted so many Canadians for so long, and has saved so many lives, was too important, maybe too awesome, to ever get rid of.

But times change, and organizational priorities change and the people that need our help change.  And the decision was made to retire Red Cross Swim was made. I had the challenging role of telling the volunteers the news and when i found out I was assigned this task, the information and messages were still being created.  I knew I should start prepping for the tough job of telling 158 volunteers that the program we all love, the one that I thought was untouchable, was going to be retired at the end of 2022.

I wasn’t sure how to prepare for this, the first thing I decided to do was to write down what I thought the volunteers would experience emotionally.  My best guess looked like this:  sadness at the loss; hurt that we are taking something from them; and then at some point Anger for taking it away; then maybe they would be depressed because there is nothing anyone can do to change the decision; then down the road people will accept that it is gone and they will move on. I won’t lie, I did think my best guess would probably align with the stages of grief and when I checked my work with the Google, I learned my hunch was correct.  

So I started preparing again from scratch and I talked with a few trusted peeps. Through those conversations 2 things stood out that I knew were going to be helpful.  First, I needed to figure out which message would make the most sense to everyone (thanks Don).  Secondly, be vulnerable and real (thanks Erin).

I found the message.  That line that would help explain why this makes sense.  It went something like this- The Canadian Red Cross needs to shift its priorities to Canadians who need us the most.  One of the projects we have taken on is in the field of Opioid Harm Reduction, an alarming 6000 Canadians die each year and we have been asked to help.  I was ready with the message and the script and now it was to time to deliver the news. Many volunteers cried and everyone was sad.  All I could think was…maybe I could have done this differently.  No one expected this news.  No one could have seen it coming because it wasn’t something anyone thought could or would happen.  The term “blindsided” went through my head that day, over and over again.  It’s not a fun thing to do to people you like and respect.  I know I didn’t make people cry.  The news of losing something that had become such a huge part of people’s lives made them sad.  I cried too, partly because of the same loss everyone else was experiencing but also because it sucked to watch people grieve in that moment when shock disappeared into realization.  We hosted 4 calls that day and we got the same response on every call.  First shock and then sadness. 

Then there was silence as the news sunk in, and that silence lasted way longer than anyone seemed comfortable with. Who wanted to start the conversation right after that news?  But inevitably someone did…and then people started to talk. They talked about what the program meant to them, they shared a few memories and they asked a few questions. I was surprised at the number of people who shared memories so close to hearing the news.

The next part of the plan was to hold space for people.  We let everyone know that they could book one on one or small group meetings with us and that our calendars were clear and open. And we also held open debrief sessions for volunteers to come and ask questions and talk about how they were feeling.  We talked, we cried, and we shared more stories.  Some people came to multiple sessions and cried at every meeting they attended (Paula, you know who you are). And some people were stoic and others just wanted to listen.  It was nice that everyone honored whatever others were feeling.  And together they started talking about what comes next, for their facilities and for them as individuals.  They also started planning and researching and looking forward.  Many people started looking at how we would stay connected and many of them asked how they could stay involved as volunteers.  What projects were available to volunteer on, and how could they stay active. I was not expecting these conversations 3 days after breaking the news to them.  I also did not expect so many people to reach out to make sure I was OK.  We are lucky to work with such amazing individuals.  And then there’s the peeps I work with and who delivered this message with me…also amazeballs.

It’s Friday and even though it sucked, I am ending the week in a better place than where it started. I am in awe of the volunteers who have put so much of their time and passion into Red Cross Swim.  They are talking, they are getting ready to start looking forward, they are asking how to stay involved, and best of all, they are checking in on each other.  I’m not sure if they were made this way or if we all learned how to be like this because of a learn to swim program that somehow taught us to be better humans, but whatever it is I can feel it in my belly button.  Maybe its pride, maybe it’s a connection to these amazing humans, maybe it’s the lamb curry I had for dinner…all I know is that it makes me feel like a super lucky guy to have been part of something that connected us all. 

I have known the definition of resilience for quite some time, but until this week I don’t think I knew what it looked like.

In the end there had to be a reason for all of this, and if Opioids killed the Swimming Star, I guess I’m OK with it.