When I was 18, I moved to the Rocky Mountains and worked at a ski hill.
I started my job in September, long before the snow and most of the staff arrived. I was living in humble communal housing, 7,000 feet above sea level with no phone, car or television, and making $6.50 an hour.
I was young and felt free and didn’t have much to my name. Anyone who wasn’t management was making $6.50 an hour, so we were all poor, but still having fun.
Young folks from across Canada came to work at the ski hill and get a once-in-a-lifetime experience. There was something special about the isolation and lack of external distractions.
Everyone was broke and had very little. Most of us would catch a communal ride to town on paydays to get two weeks’ worth of groceries. Often, one regular-sized fridge was shared by up to 10 people, so the food was also humble.
During this experience, I found the folks from Saskatchewan were always the most hospitable and generous. They were far more hospitable and generous than me. One day my friend Jen, who is still a close friend, offered to share her dinner with me. She was making chicken fajitas.
In a world that consisted of canned soup and boxed macaroni and cheese, a meal with chicken breasts, fresh peppers and tortillas would have been Michelin-star-worthy. I felt honoured by her willingness to share a nice meal that I knew was very “expensive” in our world at that time.
I shared with my family stories of the Saskatchewan generosity I experienced, wondering what set them apart. People from other places were kind as well, but there was always an extra layer that came from the farm kids.
It was explained to me that people in farming communities often needed to depend on their neighbours during bad weather, emergencies and other situations that are harder when you live in rural communities.
I grew up in Calgary, often never knowing my neighbours.
Recently, I was having a conversation about the increase in the number of people working from home and the shift in workplace dynamics.
When we can do our jobs in isolation, focusing on the tasks we want to and ignoring others, it makes us less dependant on others. As a result, we may start to lose empathy and compassion.
At other points in history, when we didn’t have the same resources and technology, people needed to build and foster relationships and understanding with those around them.
Traditionally, in a workplace or school, we’ve had to build relationships and work closely with people that we may not have chosen. These experiences teach us professionalism, etiquette and how to meet people on different levels.
Aside from the trend toward working remotely and independently, we’ve seen a shift in what employees expect from employers. Employers are having a hard time filling positions — there are more positions available than job seekers — which has created space for employees to take the upper hand. This isn’t a bad thing, but it is different.
Previously, there was a common attitude of going above and beyond for the greater good of the company. Now more employees are refusing to do anything not listed on a job description, requesting flexibility and advancement, among other things. This isn’t wrong, but I do think there needs to a balance between personal needs and wants and honouring the company you work for.
As we navigate this new style of working, we need to remember the hospitality of the farm kids.
No matter how smart, capable or efficient you can be, kindness, generosity and empathy will get you further in life. I worry that we are losing that important lesson.
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