Feedback squealed. It was outside of the sound engineer's control, but that was the tenth time that morning. That's when I saw it. I saw the senior pastor, youth pastor, and an usher walking toward the sound booth --- and they did not look happy.
I saw the sound engineer's pained look and sweat on his brow. He was already trying to get the mix under control. It was stressful, and he knew what was about to happen. He was about to hear three different questions about the feedback – plus two suggestions on how his mix could be improved. I could have sworn I saw him writing his resignation letter in his head.
That's when I stepped in. I cut off all three approaches at the entrance to the tech booth. I said sweetly, “What's going on? Is there anything I can help you with?”
All three tried to push past me, but I held my ground. “Are you here about the feedback issues?” I asked. “I know it's been happening all morning. We're trying to get it under control.”
I got three angry glares, but they returned to their seats. The look of gratitude from the sound engineer made it all worth it. His eyes said “Thank you” as he sighed his relief.
Shortly after I became technical director at my church, I made a decision. I decided I would be my volunteers' bodyguard. I had experienced all the unsolicited opinions and criticisms myself, and I vowed that wouldn't happen to my volunteers under my watch.
I approached the staff on Monday and explained what I was doing: keeping them from the sound engineer. I wanted to give my volunteers the very best experience possible while they were serving. They had an extremely stressful job. The whole service hinged on them getting things right, and we didn't need to add more stress to the sound guy by giving him an earful while he was trying to mix that delicate guitar solo.
I politely requested all critiques and suggestions go through me. I wasn't trying to be a bottleneck. I was trying to be a protector.
It took the staff and ushers a few months to get it. I had to keep politely reminding them that their requests should go through me. But eventually they stopped rushing the tech booth with torches and pitchforks.
It was worth absorbing all the stress and criticism for the results. I had happy volunteers, and I had very low volunteer turnover. They didn't have to deal with complaints about lights in their eyes or loudness in their ears. I took those complaints and processed them. If something needed to be fixed, I would approach them and we would fix it. We never ignored legitimate issues.
But my techs didn't feel like they had 500 bosses. They felt like I had their backs, and that made for some very happy volunteers.
