I learned that community and a sense of purpose is one of the best ways to improve mental health
After a long hiatus spurred by the COVID-19 pandemic, I recently returned to volunteer with Lawyers Feed the Hungry (LFTH) for the Sunday meal service at Toronto’s Osgoode Hall. My time volunteering was abruptly cut short in March 2020 – the month of infamy where the world slowed to a halt, and we entered a period of masks, lockdowns, and social distancing. When the in-person meal service finally resumed last year, I was ecstatic to return to the program to reconnect with some familiar faces in the downtown Toronto community and return to my Sunday morning routine. The legal profession is no stranger to issues of mental health – and here I wanted to share not only how rewarding my volunteering experience with LFTH is but also how it has left me with important lessons about managing stress and anxiety.
For over 20 years, LFTH has served an essential function in Toronto's archipelago of social programs, serving over 75,000 meals a year to the homeless and the impoverished. I joined LFTH for less than altruistic motives when I had an existential crisis early in my articling term and was unsure of my future practice area. I began volunteering to network with other lawyers, hoping one of these connections would lead to future opportunities (after all, it’s who you know, right?).
However, the more I volunteered, the focus became less on networking and more on conversing with my fellow volunteers and the guests we served. I was drawn to the sense of accomplishment and teamwork in donning the white apron, setting tables, and prepping meals before the start of the meal service. One of the shift’s highlights is the banter between volunteers discussing our work week, exchanging tales from the Saturday night before, or just enduring some good old-fashioned ribbing because someone arrived late for their shift.
LFTH’s brilliance is that it places vulnerable communities in a context where they can be seen and heard. When we encounter these individuals on the streets, we may avert our gaze or walk around them like a traffic pylon. Even for the best-intentioned, the kindest of hearts, encountering the homeless on the streets of Toronto may feel transactional: an outstretched hand, a ruffling in your pocket, followed by an exchange of a crumpled bill or loose change; there’s maybe a thank you – “a God bless you” – in return – and we continue with our day.
Unlike the encounters above, volunteering with LFTH provides a real opportunity to have a conversation, listen to guests and give them the space to be heard. In between serving meals, pouring coffee, (or rushing to the back cooler in a cold panic for more orange juice because the staff is getting crushed with waves of requests), you get to ask guests about their day; you get to listen to them about their favourite spots in the city; you get to see their hand-made clay sculptures; you get to hear their take on politics and the happenings on the world stage; and now and then you get the occasional legal query (which by chance, if anyone from the Law Society of Ontario is reading this: rest assured, they were directed to the law society referral service).
My volunteering experience may be of some value to those who find themselves desperately struggling to balance their professional lives (and increasingly non-existent) personal lives. As my career and professional obligations grew, I found less time for “myself.”
Looking back on how I managed anxiety and stress before entering the profession, I can’t truthfully say that I took my mental health seriously or managed stress effectively. A recent study on the mental health of legal professionals in Canada cited burnout, depression, anxiousness, and suicidal thoughts as common distresses in our profession. Given the findings, maybe as legal professionals, we are all collectively struggling to manage stress, anxiety, and our overall mental health.
It may appear counterintuitive for me to then recommend volunteering our time for a program like LFTH when our professional and personal schedules are already logjammed. However, in hindsight, when I was most stressed, carving out the extra time to volunteer with the LFTH was instrumental in regulating my mood and stress levels. Volunteering acted as the emotional equivalent of a “chiropractic back crack.” The sense of kinship I felt with my fellow volunteers and the self-fulfillment I obtained from assisting individuals in our community were instrumental in helping relieve some of the anxious feelings plaguing me that week. Proclaiming about the sheer net positive in my life after giving a few hours of my time almost feels like a crime to proclaim (after all, volunteering shouldn’t be about you, right?). This sense of community and connectedness cannot be understated in this post-pandemic world, where the new normal is hybrid work models, which can leave legal professionals disconnected from their coworkers and the clients they serve.
Since I started volunteering, the stresses and anxieties of day-to-day life are still ever-present. However, since joining LFTH, I have managed these worries better and obtained a sense of community and personal enrichment. I encourage you to consider volunteering with us at LFTH – or consider similar opportunities in your community to better your mental health, all while playing a small role in assisting the vulnerable members of your community.
For more information on how to get involved or donate in Ontario, please visit the Law Society Foundation website.
