Here’s the thing you need to know about Cynthia McArthur; she loves biking.
She fell in love with it right after college, on a three-month cycling trip through Europe. It made her feel strong, confident, and capable. She loved to set her own pace, ride as far as she wanted, and stop when she wanted.
For Cynthia, biking is freedom.
In her 30s, Cynthia landed her dream job directing a 4-H Youth bike program through the University of Minnesota. She worked with 300 communities teaching and advocating for safe bicycling as a lifelong activity.
It was through that job that Cynthia got connected with the Center for Victims of Torture (CVT). The Center is an international nonprofit based in Saint Paul that provides care for survivors of torture and war. They help people heal.
The Center contacted Cynthia trying to find free bicycles and helmets for their clients.
As a response, Cynthia developed a community service project where kids collected unwanted bikes, refurbished them, and donated them to the CVT under her supervision. That didn’t work.
It is one thing to air up a tire, lube a chain, or adjust a seat, but most of the bikes the kids found were junkers, needing complicated repairs well beyond the budding mechanics’ skill and interest. Cynthia ended up doing the repairs. She canceled the community service program, but continued working on her own, finding, fixing, and donating bikes to CVT.
At about the same time, Cynthia came down with something. She felt exhausted. Her muscles ached. She stayed in bed for days. She just couldn’t recharge her batteries. In 1990, she was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. The illness raised havoc with her immune system and her mental health. The woman who biked 100 miles a day couldn’t ride around the block.
Eventually, the syndrome hit so hard that her doctor advised her to quit the work she loved and concentrate on managing her energy. In 2003, Cynthia left her job—in essence retiring at age 52. But she continued with CVT. Now she refurbishes 30 to 50 bikes a year, with the help of others. She volunteers when she has energy.
Over the years, Cynthia has suffered through debilitating chronic fatigue flair ups, back problems, broken bones, and depression.
Given this litany of ailments, many people would have abandoned volunteering. So, what sustains her decades-long commitment, in spite of health problems?
A couple of things keep her going.
Refurbishing old bikes fits Cynthia’s values; she’s a recycler. She doesn’t like waste. And because of that, Cynthia honed skills that CVT can use and that few others possess. She can fix bikes from the 1960s through the 1990s—the ones people throw away.
“Most mechanics recommend buying a new bike rather than fixing a dated one. And a lot of young mechanics don’t fix things, they just replace them. Because of this new-is-better mentality, many mechanics don’t know how to work on old bikes.”
Cynthia also continues to volunteer because CVT values her contribution. “You walk in and it is, ‘It is great to see you! Come on in!’ You feel like you belong.”
CVT provides continuing training to volunteers, just as they do for staff. “Your participation is nurtured.” But clearly the biggest acknowledgment was when CVT nominated Cynthia for the Virginia McKnight Binger Awards in Human Service for people who help others but receive little or no public recognition. Cynthia was one of six people honored in 2010.
Even with all these reasons to continue volunteering, sometimes Cynthia had her doubts. When she is tired, the work can feel demanding rather than rewarding. That’s when she feels like the energy she is giving isn’t coming from the right place. She worries that it might taint the goodness of the gift. She believes that energy and intention pass from person to person through actions. She wants to send good energy to the people who receive the bikes.
“I love fixing bikes and I’m good at it, so it’s fun. But I was getting burned out. I wondered if what I was doing was really of value. Then I received something that keeps my compass in the right direction.”
Cynthia received a thank you note from a man who had been a political prisoner—held captive and tortured by his own country for 10 years. The fellow wrote, “With this bike I can ride north or south, east or west, for as long as I want. And when I get tired, I can lie in the grass and look at the sky.”
Cynthia called him a poet. Then she added,
“With my chronic fatigue, stress on my muscles causes me to feel like I have the flu, so I can’t ride much. But I remember. I remember what it felt like to be able to ride north or south, east or west, and then when you’re tired to lie in the grass and look at the sky. I know how much damn fun that is. So if I can provide that for someone else—my god—what a nice gift.”
What gift will you give?