Consistently, the CAS gets good volunteer turnout — 33 percent of our 7,700+ membership is nothing to sneeze at. It’s a respectable, decent number that’s downright enviable compared to other associations.
I have worked for the CAS for nearly 20 years, in which time the office has grown from 10 or so to 37 staff members. I’ve seen a lot of people come and go from this institution — presidents, committee chairs and members, and staff, but there is one thing for me that is as rare a sighting as Sasquatch: an Actuarial Review volunteer.
Although the AR is my main committee, I rarely get to meet my volunteers. Sure, I might run into one at a CAS meeting or seminar every few years or so, but we have never had a formal face-to-face meeting. We don’t have teleconferences, and, except for the editor in chief, I don’t even talk to them one on one on the phone.
And yet, I know these people.
I know their habits. I know their editorial pet peeves. I know that they delight in turns of phrases. I know they are fascinated by good story telling. I know they can dissect the logic of an argument.
They are word lovers and grammar gurus from all over the world. Sometimes English is not their first language. These volunteers are many times the one who scrutinize text the most.
AR volunteers catch things I could never dream of understanding. (Sometimes I have caught actuarial typos, too, which always amazes me.)
They are dedicated, often staying with the committee for several years.
AR volunteers hail from a tradition begun in a basement with one lone volunteer and his wife, Matt and Edyth Rodermund, creating a newsletter printed on mimeographed sheets. (Millennials, look it up.)
I started out working with just two copyeditors. Today we have a team of 20 copyeditors and seven regular volunteer contributors. (You do the math, actuaries.)
It doesn’t matter that the AR Committee’s only contact is through email. We are proof positive that people can work together for a common goal without laying eyes on each other.
