A few weeks ago I read an article by Andrew Leigh arguing that Australia needs more "joiners".
Not just formal volunteers, but people who participate in the organisations that sit between home and work. Sporting clubs. Community groups. Local associations. School P&Cs.
The argument resonated because most of us can see the same pattern playing out in our own communities.
School events still happen. Fundraisers still run. Grants still get written. Canteens still open. But if we're being honest, an extraordinary amount of that work is often being carried by a remarkably small group of people.
The question isn't whether communities still care. The question is why joining in seems harder than it used to.
For years we've told ourselves a fairly simple story about volunteering: people are too busy. Families are juggling work, commuting, sport, caring responsibilities and financial pressures that can make even the simplest week feel like a military operation. But I don't think busyness is the whole explanation.
The issue isn't that people have lost the capacity to care about their communities. The issue is that community participation increasingly feels heavier, riskier and more complicated than it once did.
Many parents look at school volunteering and see a commitment they aren't sure they can sustain. What starts as helping at one event can appear, from the outside, to become an endless stream of emails, meetings, rosters and responsibilities. Whether that's true or not is almost beside the point. If that's the perception, it influences whether people step forward.
There's also a confidence factor that we don't talk about enough.
For someone already connected to a school community, attending a P&C meeting might feel completely normal. For someone new, it can feel like walking into a room where everyone else already knows each other, understands the acronyms and has been having the same conversation for three years.
Many parents also assume they're not the kind of person schools are looking for. They think volunteer groups need accountants, event managers, marketing experts or people with endless amounts of free time.
Most school communities aren't built on specialist skills. They're built on ordinary people doing what they can, when they can.
The challenge for P&Cs and community organisations isn't finding more people with special skills. It's helping people recognise that they don't need special skills to get started.
When we talk about attracting more volunteers, we often focus on asking harder. We put another message in the newsletter. We post another request in the Facebook group. We remind families that many hands make light work.
What if the challenge isn't convincing people to help?
What if it's making involvement feel more achievable?
Many of today's most committed volunteers didn't start out with an ambition to become committee members. They started much smaller than that. They sold glow sticks at a disco. They helped serve lunch. They blew up balloons before a fete. They covered a shift when someone else couldn't make it.
Those small contributions matter because participation tends to grow through experience rather than obligation.
People become joiners gradually.
First they recognise a few faces.
Then they learn how something works.
Then they realise their contribution is valued.
Then, almost without noticing, they've become one of the people helping things happen.
Unfortunately, many school communities unintentionally skip those early steps. We ask people to volunteer before we've given them a comfortable pathway into participation.
If we want more people involved, the answer may not be bigger recruitment drives or more desperate calls for help. It may be creating more small ways to participate.
- Clearly defined jobs.
- Short-term commitments.
- Proper handovers.
- Friendly introductions.
- Genuine thanks and recognition for people’s time.
The goal isn't to turn every parent into a committee member.
The goal is to create a community where joining in feels possible.
Perhaps that's the real lesson in Leigh's argument. Communities don't thrive because a few people keep finding more capacity, more energy and more hours in the day. They thrive when the load is shared.
The future of school volunteering isn't asking the same five people to do more. It's making it easier for a sixth person to help, then a seventh, then an eighth.
This is part of what we want No More Sausages to help with: making community volunteering feel simpler, more welcoming and more sustainable.
Because strong school communities aren't built by heroes. They are built by joiners.