We now have a new “Kid” who’s helping on the farm. My hope is that this one sticks, and that his competence is such that I can reduce the frequency with which I feel compelled to mutter, “Oh, good lord!” (That one whom I reference was eventually sent packing for failing to do more than stick his toe in the ground and look bored.)
This most recent Kid has been coming here for a couple of months. He’s a “yes, sir,” hard-working lad who, so far, has arrived on time every Saturday morning. Teaching him the rhythms of the day, showing him where tools are located, trying to keep him busy — all, to be frank, threaten to wear me out. And, though far from his Oh, good lord! predecessor, he does bring to the job his own set of challenges.
Let us consider the wheelbarrow: For a couple of hours yesterday, I observed as the Kid moved wheelbarrow loads of chicken manure to a compost pile while cleaning out the coop. Each time, when he was ready to move a full load, he would position himself between the wheelbarrow’s handles, his back to the barrow, and set off like a workhorse pulling a dray. Of course, in that position it is harder to control the balance, and he managed to turn it over once or twice each trip before I finally intervened.
I’m always torn, when watching someone do something wrong, or at the very least inefficiently, between correcting them or letting them get on with it. In this case, it was such an odd way to use a wheelbarrow — the pulling instead of pushing — that I assumed it was just a peculiar personal preference. Eventually, though, I approached him and said, “I’m sure you know that a wheelbarrow is typically pushed,” showing him how. His response was, simply, that he didn’t know. Sixteen years old and he’d never had the occasion to use one.
We went though similar interactions over how to use a pitchfork (not that unusual) and a shovel (unusual). The Kid’s efforts at hoeing were as close to being ineffective as they get without being totally useless.
In other words, he had little to no familiarity with using the most common of tools. How a boy can get this close to being a man and still not know how to use a wheelbarrow or shovel is beyond me. Mind you, it is not an indictment of him specifically, and it is to his credit that he continues to endure a crash remedial course each Saturday.
It does, though, seem more than a bit curious about this culture. Are we so awash in luxury that the basic elements of manual labor are now an alien technology, using a shovel now as complex as a slide rule? If so, it does trigger my concern, once again, about where we are going.
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Note to readers: I will be taking a sabbatical for the remainder of the month. When I return in May it will be on a different schedule. I’m still not sure how often I will post, whether once a month or twice, it still remains to be seen.
Reading this weekend: Eggs, Beans and Crumpets (Wodehouse).
Good thing your previous “kid” got the honest feedback we all need that his services were inadequate and no longer required. More of us need that from time to time. Will the lesson be taken to heart?
Still, it should be easy to understand that the modern economy and all its labor-saving devices has made it so that once-normal technologies, tasks, and know-how are no longer practiced widely. Besides, any “kid” probably seeks his first job these days in food service rather than farm work. The labor is easier and far more familiar.
There is a viral video of parents challenging their teenage sons how to operate a rotary phone within 5 minutes. The kids eventually figured out the rotor but never worked out that they had to first pick up the handset to get a dial tone.
My milieu is the office rather than the farm. Fresh-from-college new hires often lack familiarity with older technologies. One of my trainees sat down at a typewriter but didn’t have the slightest clue how to insert the paper. Brick wall moment. Fax machines are also sometimes impenetrable even through step-by-step instructions are posted on the wall. White Out is gone in favor of white tape. Who ever uses carbon copies now except as an anachronistic acronym for addressing e-mails? Such is the way of things.
Yep, I’m not one to watch the latest youtube video. But the one of the two teens was pretty spot on to illustrate the gap in changing technology. However, a slight pushback, a shovel and a wheelbarrow have been part of our toolkit for several thousand years. Know how to use them!
I think Brutus makes some great points. Imagine the new hire who is told to use a wheelbarrow to move something from point A to point B while a perfectly serviceable skid loader sits in a corner of the barn. Explaining that the time required to move other kit out the way so that the loader is available (and all the polluting fuel required to do so) will meet with rolled eyes. Only the most ancient old luddite (me) would push such an argument.
But another aspect of wheelbarrow management comes to mind. I cannot recall the first time I used a wheelbarrow or observed my farther using one. Long before learning to read I imagine. The thought of pulling one backwards (except to pull it away from some blockage) does seem a head scratcher. But I do recall the first time I used one to haul a slurry. Probably ten or twelve, hauling some muddy manure from the end of a hog lot at my uncle’s farm. That didn’t go well. Lesson quickly taken to heart. Laughs from cousins only pressed the matter deeper into my brain. And to this day I’ll not assume that someone else immediately appreciates the inertial aspects of a slimy wheelbarrow load.
Very little that seems obvious to us will also be immediately obvious to another. For a long while now the “kids” who have come into our work circle, when assigned to do some task for the first time, are greeted with “How do you plan to do this?” No assumptions, fewer surprises.
Sorry to hear about the sabbatical… will miss the weekly feeding. But here’s hoping the time away will bear much fruit.
Thanks, Clem. This piece could have easily been written using a hammer in place of a shovel. Or, I ran across a man in his thirties that had no idea how to use a phillips-head screwdriver. So, perhaps we are speaking of a broader decline in basic tool intelligence. Crawford in Shop Class as Soulcraft speaks a volume on this topic.