BRIAN HAS been a volunteer for the past six years yet the majority of his friends have no idea he is a Samaritan.
“I would be what we call a private Samaritan. A lot of Samaritans would be quite guarded about it,” he says.
Having put himself forward as a volunteer, he was selected to undergo a training programme to become a volunteer.
“Sams”, as they are sometimes called, are picked, not for their ability to give advice, but for their ability to hold back on it.
“We don’t actually give advice here and rightly so because we don’t know the in-depth circumstances,” Brian explains. “Instead you’ll say, well, what options are open to you?”
“At the end of the call, they’ll say thank you for that advice but in actual fact you didn’t give them any advice, you just gave them the chance to talk and explore things.”
Often, there is no sense of resolution for the volunteer following a call, but sometimes simply being there to answer the door or pick up the phone is its own reward.
“You can see the apprehension in people . . . Be it anger, be it hurt, be it pain, be it something that happened 30 years ago and it’s someone’s first time talking to somebody. Just the fact that we’re here to let that release in, in many respects, its often a privilege to actually be there and see that.”
Support services are in place for volunteers with dedicated staff on each shift who they can turn to should they need their support. “Sometimes you really do hear some harrowing stories,” Brian says, adding that the support provided by his fellow volunteers is invaluable.
“In my life I have never met such a superb group of people. It’s an honour and privilege to walk in that door and meet the people that you do here,” he says.