The brave volunteers turning trauma into purpose

May 17, 2026 07:00 | News

When Benn Lockyer reaches out to grieving fathers through a volunteer support line, he already knows there is nothing he can say to “fix” what has happened to them.

What he can offer is something else entirely: understanding.

The Victorian father lost his son James in 2017 after complications during labour left the newborn with a brain injury. James lived for just three days.

Benn Lockyer holding son James (file)
After the loss of son James, Benn Lockyer found he needed to be around people who could support him. (PR IMAGE PHOTO)

Years later, after counselling and support groups helped navigate his own grief, Mr Lockyer found himself wanting to become the person he once needed.

“I need to give back to this community,” he tells AAP.

“I had years and years of support through Red Nose and, for me, it was, ‘How can I return that, how can I provide support to other families?'”

As Australians prepare to mark National Volunteer Week from May 18-24, stories like Mr Lockyer’s are at the centre of this year’s theme: “It’s your year to volunteer.”

While volunteering is often associated with sausage sizzles, sporting clubs and school fundraisers, many people are drawn to it after some of the most difficult moments of their lives.

For some, lived experience becomes the very thing that allows them to help others.

Mr Lockyer says joining a support group after James’ death was a turning point.

“We didn’t know what to expect. We were terrified going into that room,” he recalls.

“But everyone was supportive and understanding. They all lived through it as well.”

Hearing from parents further along in their grief gave him hope life could eventually become manageable again.

“It sort of normalised and validated a lot of what I was feeling,” he says.

“It provided that hope that, ‘Maybe we will be okay out of this.'”

Eventually, Mr Lockyer began volunteering, himself providing peer support to other bereaved fathers through online chats and one-on-one phone calls.

Despite his own experiences, he initially doubted he was qualified to help anyone else.

“I remember turning up to the first training session and I was terrified,” he says.

“I was like, ‘What am I doing? I’m not qualified to do this.'”

Benn Lockyer
Others further along in their grief gave Benn Lockyer hope life could become manageable again. (Joel Carrett/AAP PHOTOS)

That uncertainty faded the first time he spoke directly with another grieving dad.

“You get onto a phone call with someone who needs help and it just changes. You just know,” he says.

“You kind of doubt yourself a little bit. And then you’re like, no, ‘I’m exactly qualified to be doing this because I know exactly how much pain these people are going through.'”

For Mr Lockyer, volunteering became a way of giving purpose to grief that could never truly be resolved.

“I can’t go back and change what happened. I can’t bring James back,” he says.

“But if I can take that experience and that pain and bring some sort of light to someone else’s life, then that’s given it some sort of purpose.”

For Volunteering Australia chief executive Mark Pearce, hearing stories like Mr Lockyer’s are far from uncommon.

“There is a significant proportion of people, especially in those roles which are personal support, psychological support, where people may have experienced something,” he tells AAP.

“Then, they’ve said, ‘Wow, this is something that was really special to me. This is an opportunity for me to be that person to someone else as they move through that life experience themselves.'”

Mr Pearce says many volunteers underestimate what they can offer until they actually become involved.

Volunteers commonly tell him they feel they have something to contribute but don’t know how.

“‘I didn’t realise what a difference I could make until I actually started to make that difference’,” he reports being told.

Volunteering can also help people rediscover a sense of belonging and connection after periods of trauma or isolation, he continues.

“When you walk away at the end of the day or the night or the week, whatever the case might be, there is this profound sense of belonging, of contribution and personal empowerment.”

Mr Pearce describes volunteering as “almost the simplest human interaction”.

“It’s the ‘need a hand with that?'” he says.

Benn Lockyer
For Benn Lockyer, volunteering became a way of giving purpose to grief that could never be resolved. (Joel Carrett/AAP PHOTOS)

Importantly, he says, volunteering doesn’t always require huge time commitments or certification.

“You don’t need to have formal qualifications oftentimes. You just need to be there with intention,” he explains.

“It can be one hour a week. It can be less than one hour a week … but it’s about that connection.”

Australian Bureau of Statistics research reveals 42.8 per cent of Australians aged 15 or over volunteered formally, informally or both in 2025.

More than 618 million hours were contributed through formal volunteering alone.

Men and women volunteer formally at a similar rate: 22 per cent and 23 per cent respectively. Adults aged 35-54 are most likely to volunteer.

For Mr Lockyer, who now juggles volunteering alongside full-time work and raising two young children, the rewards far outweigh the time commitment.

“Being able to provide that support for other people is important to me and so it’s time that I want to make,” he says.

AAP News

Australian Associated Press is the beating heart of Australian news. AAP is Australia’s only independent national newswire and has been delivering accurate, reliable and fast news content to the media industry, government and corporate sector for 85 years. We keep Australia informed.

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