International Volunteer Day: The People Who Show Up First

Spontaneous volunteers on Lesvos, 17 September 2015.

Today is the UN International Volunteer Day. It is a day to look squarely at those who act before systems fully spin up. I am thinking in particular of unaffiliated, spontaneous volunteers: neighbours, visitors, bystanders who decide to help when capacity is stretched. They often stand in the shadow of institutions, yet in practice they form part of the response. They are first on site, fill gaps in the early hours, and take the experience home with them.

This has been my field for a decade. On Lesvos in 2015 and 2016, and in Norwegian events like Utøya and Gjerdrum, I saw the same pattern. When need outruns capacity, people rise. They self-organise. They find the tasks no one has had time to assign. They do it because someone needs it done. When we recognise this as a predictable part of crisis response, the work becomes safer and better.

Recognition should not be viewed as a gesture of good will. It is governance. When unaffiliated spontaneous volunteers are treated as legitimate actors, they receive a clear entry point, a place or team to turn to. and a number to call when something feels wrong. The effects are practical. There is less friction at the interface with municipal services and emergency responders. Assistance reaches pockets that would otherwise wait. Information quality rises because rumours become timestamped observations that everyone can use.

This is also about values. Those who help should not have to carry the experience alone afterward. Duty of care is not a stack of forms. It is a clear scope, a visible point of contact, short rests that are actually taken, and a brief closure after a shift that normalises common reactions and points to support if needed. That is how trust is built in both directions. That is how we avoid unnecessary strain and regret.

Volunteering changes people. Many arrive as insecure about how they can best help, and go home as something else. Identity shifts in steps: observer, helper, teammate, steward. Stewardship is the turning point. It is when someone starts caring for the conditions that allow others to help well. They pass on what they have learned. They hold boundaries when it matters. They build simple routines that outlast adrenaline. When that happens, a community gains durable capacity, not only a bright flare that dies down.

This is the core of my book, How Spontaneous Volunteers Disrupt the Management of Forced Migrants and Life Seekers, now published. It is written for practitioners. It distils fieldwork, interviews, and Nordic data into practical moves that fit inside existing structures. The goal is not more bureaucracy. The goal is controlled flexibility: making it possible to welcome help safely, quickly, and accountably.

On a day like this it is natural to say thank you. We should. But gratitude is not enough on its own. It has to be matched with simple frameworks that show the effort belongs in our shared work. When we make that space, two things happen at once. People get help faster. Those who help go home a little steadier than when they arrived.