I’ve had a very varied volunteering journey — or perhaps I should say career, because it feels like one. It all began before COVID, when I first became an exhibition host at Waddesdon. My great love has always been art and the history of art, which I actually studied. Back then, it was a paid role — two days a week, which felt marvellous at the time. That led to another exhibition in the Stables the following year, and then a photography show, which was one day’s paid work. After that, they announced there’d be no more paid positions — but by then, I was already hooked. I stayed on as a volunteer, partly because I’d planned to start volunteering before retiring anyway.
I’d spent twenty-two years working in schools, and as retirement loomed, I thought, “Yes, I want it… but what on earth am I going to do with all that time?” I was single then, and the idea of suddenly having endless free days was both exciting and a bit daunting. So before retiring, I arranged everything with Helen at Waddesdon — started with the paid job, loved it, and by the time I stopped working full-time, volunteering had already become part of my life.
Over the years, I’ve done a bit of everything: hosting in the House, helping at exhibitions (which remain my first love), and working on the Guercino exhibition — which was, frankly, to die for. This year I started doing house hosting again, and then I spotted something new: Community Engagement. I thought, “What’s that about?” So I met Edwina, who runs it — a lovely woman — and she explained the idea. She’s building it from the ground up, trying to reach people who wouldn’t normally visit Waddesdon. It’s about breaking down barriers — social, cultural, financial — and making it a two-way exchange.
Essentially, it’s collaborative outreach: we invite groups here who might not usually come, and we also go out to them. So far, we’ve had a women’s refuge group visit — young mums and children who might not have had the means or confidence to come otherwise. We didn’t even go inside the house that day; instead, we focused on craft sessions in the grounds, tying in with one of the family summer activities. It was a joyful, chaotic, heart-warming day — paint, glue, laughter, and lots of tea.
Since then, we’ve visited elderly groups too — people my age and older. We went to a local village group in Quainton, and later to another luncheon group where most of the guests had mobility challenges. Getting them into the house was a mission! We used shuttles, lifts, and a small army of volunteers, but we made it work. They were so grateful, and it reminded me how much small acts of inclusion matter. Of course, we always end up having lunch at these events — that’s practically part of the job description!
But my favourite session so far was with the local Asian community — mostly older Indian, Hindu, and Sikh men and women. They came to Waddesdon and it was an absolute riot. They weren’t shy or overly formal; they threw themselves into it, literally. Bags everywhere, everyone touching things, laughing, completely ignoring the usual National Trust hush — and it was glorious. They adored the bling and the grandeur. And since I’ve done Bollywood dancing as well as line dancing (as you do), we ended up re-enacting a Bollywood film moment — the one where the helicopter lands on the lawn. On the shuttle bus back, we were all singing Bollywood songs, laughing till we cried. There were two rather bewildered visitors sitting with us who didn’t know what on earth was going on, but they joined in by the end. That day was unforgettable.
We later visited the Multicultural Centre in Aylesbury, where they welcomed us with such generosity. They were doing their exercises when we arrived, then invited us to lunch. I’ll admit Indian food isn’t my usual choice, but I gave it a go. We prayed to Ganesh, lit candles, and talked for ages. They were among the most hospitable people I’ve ever met, and they want to visit again. That’s when I realised how powerful this outreach is — not just for them, but for us too. It brings Waddesdon to entirely new audiences and helps us see the place differently ourselves.
Community Engagement is still a new project — very much a work in progress. The sessions don’t always run like clockwork; sometimes a group cancels, or schedules don’t line up. Edwina’s still refining how it fits within the wider Waddesdon system, especially how sessions are advertised internally. She’s also building a huge network of organisations, from women’s groups to Afghan refugee groups, and even RAF connections. It’s growing fast. I help when I can, but sometimes life gets in the way — medical appointments, grandchildren, holidays. Still, whenever I can make it, I do.
Alongside this, I’ve stayed involved in other volunteering roles at Waddesdon. I often host in the House, though I tend to prefer exhibition work because I love having something to focus on. This year I’ve been working on Signatures, which is fascinating. It features a collection of historical letters and documents gathered by Edmund de Rothschild — including signatures from figures like Elizabeth I, Byron, Maria Edgeworth, Mozart, and even Salieri. I’ve made it my mission to engage visitors with these stories. As people walk through, I’ll say, “Have you seen Elizabeth’s signature?” and that sparks conversations about letters, postcards, and the art of keeping history alive.
I’ve always championed female artists too. When I worked on Guercino, I made sure to mention Artemisia Gentileschi alongside Caravaggio — giving visitors a sense of women’s role in art history. I’d love to see Waddesdon host a female-focused art exhibition one day. When you find your niche, as I have, volunteering doesn’t feel like work at all. It’s joy, curiosity, and connection all rolled into one.
I even help out in the restaurant at Christmas. The House looks stunning, but it can be hectic, so a few years ago I tried catering. It turned out to be one of my favourite things — showing guests to their tables, helping to clear and reset, chatting to people over mince pies and wine tastings. There’s such warmth in it. Every season brings something new to learn and someone new to talk to.
I’m a bit of a note-taker too — I’ve got a spreadsheet listing every letter and document in the Signatures exhibition, complete with dates, authors, and historical context. It’s my way of learning, my comfort blanket. If someone asks me about an artefact, I can tell them exactly when it was written and what was happening in the world at that time. It’s the teacher in me, I suppose — once an organiser, always an organiser.
Volunteering here has also taught me the value of balance. Alongside my roles at Waddesdon, I volunteer with a hospice charity as a listener. That role couldn’t be more different — it’s quiet, reflective, and deeply human. After all the art, culture, and chatter, it’s grounding to simply listen. It’s taught me so much about empathy and presence. Together, these two volunteering roles give me a wonderful equilibrium.
What keeps me coming back is the continual learning — every visit teaches me something new. Even the drive up to Waddesdon feels special. I always allow half an hour: fifteen minutes to get to the village, fifteen to drive up the long winding hill. The deer, the trees, the smell of the seasons — it’s a joy in itself. The work here has a rhythm, like the school year I used to know so well: spring bursts with energy, by autumn we’re all a little tired, and then Christmas arrives in full sparkle.
There’s never really a gap, either. Between January and March, we have WardFest — a brilliant programme of talks and training that keeps volunteers engaged. There’s always something to learn: curator tours, mental health workshops, BSL taster sessions, even training on inclusive language and communication. It’s inspiring to see how much care goes into ensuring we all keep growing, both personally and as a community.
Recently, I’ve even been brushing up on British Sign Language. I can sign “welcome,” “thank you,” and a few other basics — and it’s been lovely to use those little gestures when greeting visitors. Every small skill like that makes the experience richer.
If someone told me they were thinking about volunteering, I’d say, “Absolutely do it.” In fact, I’ve already converted a few friends. One of my former colleagues recently retired, and I told her all about it over lunch — she’s now signed up for admin volunteering. There’s something for everyone here, whether it’s exhibitions, catering, outreach, or the shop.
People sometimes say that volunteer numbers are dropping elsewhere, but at Waddesdon, there’s always a place for those who want to contribute. And it’s not just about helping the house — it’s about helping yourself, too. It keeps your mind active, your spirit connected, and your heart open. Volunteering gives you a reason to get up, to learn, to laugh, and to belong. For me, that’s what Waddesdon is all about.
