So, you signed up to volunteer on a Habitat build. Bold move.
Maybe you’ve got power tool experience. Maybe you’ve never met a hammer you didn’t hold upside down. Either way, you pull into the site around 9:00 a.m., wondering if you packed sunscreen and whether “joist” is as funny a word as it sounds.
Spoiler alert: it is. So is our Construction Coordinator, Kevin Parris, who greets you with a hard hat full of dad jokes, a genuine smile, and a plan for the day.
The vibe? Casual. The impact? Not.
You’ll start with a quick safety talk—nothing scary, just the basics of staying upright and not stepping on nails. Then it’s a demo of the task at hand: framing, painting, measuring twice, cutting once. Or maybe just holding a beam steady while someone else wields the nail gun with confidence and caffeine.
No experience? No problem. We’ll never throw you into the deep end without floaties. You’ll be guided, supported, and maybe even applauded. We teach you what to do, and we do it together—one board, one laugh, one high five at a time.
There’s no test. No clipboard. Just purpose and paint splatter.
By 10:00 a.m., you’re covered in sawdust. By 10:30, you’re laughing with strangers who suddenly feel like teammates. Someone brought snacks. Someone else cued the classic rock. And somewhere between checking level lines and lining up studs, it hits you: you're helping build a real house for a real family. Not in a vague, metaphorical sense. In the very real, very local, “this will be someone’s home” kind of way.
That’s no small thing. In fact, it might be one of the biggest things you’ll do this month.
Because here’s the truth: we couldn’t do this without you.
Seriously. Our crew is small. The need in Pickens County is not. Volunteers—first-timers, old pros, people with kind hearts and flexible schedules—are what make this mission move. You’re not just a helper; you’re the heartbeat of the build. The muscle behind the mission. The reason we can hand over keys instead of just crossing our fingers.
And the best part? You’ll get something out of it, too.
Not just the satisfaction of helping (though yes, that’s real). Not just the new skills (though you might learn how to use a miter saw without losing a thumb). But the kind of connection that only happens when people come together with a shared purpose and open hands.
By 1:00 p.m., you’re packing up—tired, probably a little hungry, and completely fulfilled.
You’ll leave with a story, a few new muscles, and maybe a sunburn in the shape of your safety glasses. But more than that, you’ll leave knowing you did something meaningful. Tangible. Needed. You’ll go home different—not because we changed you, but because you showed up for someone else, and that always leaves a mark.
That’s what we’re building here: hope. One wall, one volunteer, one joyful morning at a time.
So—ready to spend four hours doing something that matters?
We’ve got a hammer with your name on it (figuratively… unless you really want us to label it, in which case, we absolutely will).
Sign up today at pickenshabitat.org/how-to-help/volunteer.html, or reach out about group builds. No experience necessary. Just bring yourself.
And maybe sunscreen.
