The Beating Heart of the Farm: Our Volunteers
In my day-to-day life at the farm, I cross paths with so many wonderful beings—two-legged, four-legged, and feathered. I regularly chat with visitors strolling the farm paths, collaborate with staff on projects, and soak up the vibrant energy of summer camp now that the season is in full swing. And, of course, I spend a great deal of time with the animals, who never fail to bring me joy (and a little chaos).
But there’s another group I look forward to seeing every day—our volunteers.
Before I began my work at Joppa Hill Educational Farm, I had heard about the strong and well-loved volunteer program. As a lifelong volunteer myself—especially when it involves animals—I was instantly curious and impressed. The number of volunteers, their commitment, and how deeply involved they are in the day-to-day running of the farm spoke volumes.
When I officially joined the team, Katie Schelzel, our incredible Operations Manager, walked me through everything: schedules, tasks, sign-ins, Farm Portal how-tos—you name it. It was a lot to take in, and honestly, it’s taken me about nine months to finally feel like I have a handle on the ins and outs of the program. (Mostly!)
What’s surprised and delighted me most isn’t just how much our volunteers do—it’s who they are. They are the heart and soul of this place. They bring life to our farm’s story, adding humor, compassion, and dedication in every corner of the property. I wish I had the space to share all their stories, but here are just a few that stuck with me.
One Summer Night, Two Volunteers, and a Duckling
Each evening, our volunteers help “turn in” the farm—making sure every animal has eaten, settled in, and is safe for the night. Just recently, a mother-daughter duo showed up for their usual turn-in shift. One of our horses refused to leave the pasture (typical), but they handled it with calm and good humor. They even sent along a hilarious photo of Bessie, our miniature donkey, peaking out of the shelter.
Then came a string of messages: a duckling was wandering in the duck pen. I knew one had recently hatched, but was surprised to hear it had made its way across the field with Mama Duck. Soon after, the duo discovered another duckling left behind in the nest—alone. What followed was a flurry of phone calls, messages, coordination, and care. They managed to reunite the little one with its mother and sibling.
Unfortunately, the duckling didn’t make it. Nature has its own rhythms and rules, and sometimes even the best efforts can’t change the outcome. But the reason I share this story is not about the ending—it’s about the dedication. Our volunteers didn’t hesitate. On one of the hottest nights of the summer, they worked together, with compassion and determination, to do everything they could.
For them, it wasn’t just about animal care. It was about sharing time, laughter, even tears. That’s what makes our farm special: it’s a place where relationships grow and stories unfold.
The Tuesday Morning Duck Pond Champion
When I first started, I was told about a few volunteers who had their “specialty shifts.” One volunteer stood out—a volunteer who adores ducks. Every Tuesday morning, like clockwork, he arrives to feed the animals, greet the barn cats, open the chicken coop, and (most admirably) clean the dreaded duck pond.
Now, let me tell you about this pond: it smells, it leaks, it’s full of…duck stuff. It takes forever to drain and refill. It’s not a task for the faint of heart. But our Tuesday volunteer shows up rain or shine, summer heat or snowstorm, and beams with joy when the ducks dive in after he’s finished. We’re so grateful to all who take on this task—and to those who’ve ever fallen in or had duck water splashed on their faces. Yes, that happens!
It’s not just our Tuesday volunteer who takes on the hard chores, each one of our volunteers will bend over backwards for this farm. Shovel in a morning snowstorm, chase down an escaped horse, take a leash off a surly goat and even herd sheep into their shelter for shearing.
The Chicken Chase Chronicles
This spring, during our busy field trip season, the chickens quickly became the star attraction for visiting kids. But for volunteers? The chickens have turned into one of their most maddening chores.
In summer, when the sun sets late, the chickens want to stay out exploring. I leave a hopeful note on the volunteer portal: “Please make sure the chickens are in and the door is closed.” Volunteers must roll their eyes at me, because getting chickens into the coop often requires running around waving grain and mealworms, all while preventing escapees. It’s not elegant. It’s not really fun.
The notes we find afterward usually read something like:
“I tried my best!”
“Darn chickens.”
“They’re on their own tonight!”
But one volunteer offered a simple, poetic solution during a recent training:
“I bring a book and sit on the bench until they all go in.”
That bench, near the barn and overlooking the fields, catches the golden sunset each evening. What a beautiful way to spend time—reading, relaxing, and letting the chickens find their own way home. This struck me in two ways. One, working on a farm requires patience, time, and accepting what may come. Two, I’m so grateful that this farm can provide a solace and a place for sitting and reading a book in the summer evening.
Meanwhile, I’ll still be chasing those dang chickens around the coop.
Volunteers Make the Farm Work
Each of our volunteers brings something different to the farm. Some come during their lunch breaks to muck the horse pasture. Others spend Sunday nights with family tucking in the animals. We have mother-son pairs cuddling with bunnies, kids riding with the parents in the Gator helping to bring water to the cows, groups from local schools and centers washing eggs and finding joy in the goat antics, and individuals tending to our pollinator gardens or checking irrigation for our community gardeners.
Every single day, there’s someone—often more than one—showing up to lend a hand, share a laugh, and help keep the farm running smoothly.
Our volunteers are not just helpers. They are caretakers of our mission, our animals, and our spirit. And for that, we are endlessly grateful.
Written by Sarah Grosvenor, Executive Director