Back in 2013, a photo was snapped of 29-year-old Stewart proudly carrying completed nomination papers into Ontario Liberal Party headquarters. I was wearing one of my favourite shirts – a simple black shirt with shiny letters that read ‘Shameless Idealist.’ It was a gift from Jess that captured my spirit pretty well at the time.
I was optimistic, full of ideas, and most importantly, believed in our democratic institutions and their ability to deliver positive social change. I believed that if the right people were pulling the levers, awesome stuff could happen. It took less than two years in the partisan cesspool of Queen’s Park to kill the idealist in me, and that shirt gathered dust in the drawer as cynicism set in.
How many of us have used a derogatory term to describe the work ethic of folks younger than ourselves? Somewhere buried in the sands of time is a transcript with grey-haired Adam complaining about the kids to Eve: “They have no idea how easy they have it. After listening to that blasted snake we had to gather berries and, if we were lucky, snare a hare. They just have to go down to the fruit tree grove I planted.” Complaining about those younger than ourselves is a time-honed tradition. Today’s column is going to be different; it’s about why the kids are OK, better than OK if you ask me. It is the kids that had me wash that shirt and start believing in positive change again.
Five years ago, we received an email from a young kid from the Brussels area. It was completely out of the blue as we weren’t advertising any positions. Yet, the email caught our eye – a polite message, accompanied with a resume outlining a kid who wanted to make some real money after doing the lawn-cutting thing for a few years.
That fellow just wrapped up a weekend at our farm in which he showed up without being asked, worked independently, and did an exceptional job. He wasn’t asked to come in, but he saw a job that needed to be done during his last shift and took the initiative to do it. Three years ago, a young carpenter working on our house renovation at the time started asking questions about our farm. Today he runs multiple barns, operates farm equipment, and fixes things that I will never know how to fix.
Our farm currently employs five people under the age of 25. Each one of them plays an important role here at the farm and they all have earned the title ‘farmer.’ Each of them have shown they are willing to get dirty and work hard. Each one has treated a sick pig and held a pressure washer for hours on end, ensuring that we have clean barns and good animal health.
There is little glamour to be found in a pig barn. There are no picture-perfect moments that will enhance their pathway to becoming a famous social media influencer. While there is no glamour, I have discovered we do offer something that the kids are looking for: genuine fulfillment.
We offer the opportunity to be a part of a team doing something noble – feeding people and caring for animals. When I was a teenager, I did not care about how a job made me feel, I cared about who paid the best. The mentality at the time between my peers and I was simply: who cares what the work is, chase the money. That is why I worked at Molesworth Farm Supply instead of Tim Hortons. It all boiled down to the extra $1.25 per hour on the paycheque.
I have learned as a business owner that money is still very much top of mind, but it isn’t enough. The highest hourly wage does not buy loyalty to the job. That is not to say that the kids don’t care about money (I have been leveraged into a couple raises already by enterprising young people who understand their growing worth to a business during a period of inflationary wages).
However, money isn’t everything. I am reminded of a scene from Mad Men, my favourite show of all time, that illuminates generational differences about what is valued in the workplace. Don Draper is confronted by a young employee, Peggy, who complains that Don doesn’t thank her for her good work. He says, “It’s your job! I give you money, you give me ideas.” Peggy replies, “You never say thank you,” and then Don thunders in reply, “That’s what the money is for!”
Gone are the days where money alone is enough. Without the kids at the farm, I might still be stuck thinking like Don Draper versus asking myself what we can do to find more pathways to fulfillment. Instead, they have inspired me to dig out my Shameless Idealist shirt and focus on how much more fun life is when you are an idealist versus a cynic. Instead of seeing a lack of progress when a mistake is made, it gives me an opportunity to build more skills in a positive way knowing that not only is it helping our own family business, it is equipping someone with skills that are going to help build a better world.
That same better world I myself wanted to be a part of building when I put in those nomination papers a decade ago. The kids are alright, folks. It is on us to make sure we keep building them up instead of grinding them down.
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Stewart Skinner is a local business owner, former political candidate, and has worked at Queen’s Park as a Policy Advisor to the Minister of Agriculture, Food, and Rural Affairs. He can be reached at stuskinner@gmail.com or on Twitter: @modernfarmer.
