"On The Things I Learned Working In The Fields"

work ethic:  the value that one ought to work hard at one's job or duties; the belief that hard work is intrinsically virtuous or worthy of reward

The weather forecast was for a heat wave across the Willamette Valley with temperatures expected to be in the upper 90’s.  A “Severe Heat Warning” had been issued with instructions to stay inside and how to avoid heat stroke. 

My mind went back decades to summer when I was a young girl, summers spent working in the fields, from the time I was very young until I was 15.

When I was a kid, there were no summer vacations, no challenge for my parents to find ways to fill the days of summer with camps or activities when the school year was completed.  That wasn't because of a year-round school schedule. The summer was spent harvesting fruits and vegetables for the farmers in the area as soon as school came to an end in May,  They were summers spent receiving a different kind of education.

The small rural community I grew up in was known as Tennessee, and my Dad described the area where we lived as “The Tennessee river bottom," The Santiam River originates high in the Cascades, and its tributary, the South Santiam River, flows through that part of the valley floor. The soil is rich and fertile, the result of centuries of flooding in a time before dams. We lived no more than 1/2 mile from the Santiam. I have often said my father could have planted a rock, and it would have grown.  The soil is that good; there is none better.

Farmers, some with just a few acres, others with a large spread, made use of their favorable growing conditions and planted row crops, the main ones strawberries, raspberries, and bush or pole beans.  Their hired labor in harvesting those crops included the kids from the local town nearby and surrounding area. 

Field work is hard and demanding, both mentally and physically, whether one is five years old or an adult. The strawberries were removed from the vines either by standing up and bending over or traversing the row on one's knees. Raspberries were cajoled from the vine and placed in a wooden contraption tied around the waist which held two boxes. Picking pole beans was an up-and-down-the-vine motion. The beans were placed in a 5-gallon bucket then transferred to gunny sacks. When the gunny sack was full, it was carried by the picker down to the scales to be weighed, and a ticket was given, indicating the amount of poundage.

The days began at 7 and ended at 4 with Sunday as a day of rest. The crops needed to be harvested at their optimum time of maturity so that often meant working in blazing heat. I don't remember a field ever closing due to a "Severe Heat Warning." Field work is not for the faint of heart.

Child labor laws forbidding the use of children under the age of 16 working in such a manner are now in existence. The things I learned while working in the fields are important, though, the base of much of my life and the kind of person I am.

It didn't take much thought for me to come up with a list, as these are applied often in my daily life and, especially, in my work as a gardener.

1.  Finish what you start.  Upon being assigned a row to harvest it was expected by the farmer/owner that all the fruit or vegetables would be picked.  Half-measure was never acceptable.  You finished one row, and you were then given another one to pick.

2.  If I don’t do it, it won’t get done.  I am the one who must answer for the task allocated to me.  When my name was placed beside a certain row number to pick it was a commitment, my responsibility.  There was no one else to place the blame on if I didn’t fulfill the assignment given me. 

3.  If it isn't done right, it has to be done over.  Every field had its “row bosses,” usually women who came behind and made certain no fruits or vegetables were left behind, and they had no problem requiring a picker start over from the beginning in order for it to be done right, to be picked clean.  Accountability in action.

4.  Don’t look up.  The rows were long.  While they seemed to be at least ¼ of a mile in length that is probably an exaggeration.  When I asked my brother the length he commented, “Too long.”  For me, the only way I could deal with that enormity was to focus on the area I was working on.  It was my method to keep from being overwhelmed.

5.  Quitting is not an option.  My mother was always either my picking partner or one who worked at the stand, so the idea of quitting never entered my mind.  As she picked along beside me, her example was my standard.

6. "It won't hurt you" and "It won't kill you."   Classic “isms” of Mom, they are most often true.  Even the most difficult of situations isn't generally harmful or fatal, and field work was one of them.

And lastly:

7.  Money doesn't grow on trees.  While that is an accurate statement, it figuratively grew on berry and bean vines.  It just grew in the form of fruit and vegetable and had to be removed.   "Hard-earned money" is the perfect description when it comes to compensation for field work.  Payment for a 6-box carrier of strawberries was 25 cents; it was a bit more for a 12-box crate of raspberries, but those were much smaller and shrank in the heat.  I remember tripping and spilling a crate of raspberries more than once on my way to the stand where the fruit was exchanged for a ticket, proof of work.  The bulk of the crate was difficult for a child to wield while plowing through the vines.  Bean pickers were paid 2 1/2 cents per pound with a whopping 1/4 cent bonus for staying with the farmer the entire season. 

Cashing in the bean and berry tickets at the end of the summer, the money was carefully spent with a great deal of thought going into purchases.  My first (and only) bicycle at the age of 9 or 10 required most of my entire summer's earnings.  An annual savings bond, money for Christmas gifts, school clothes--the result of a summer's efforts.  

I have had more than one conversation with my peers, those who grew up in the same area as I did, many of them picking in the same fields as I.  The common consensus is that, while field work was hard, it was a valuable experience for kids, one that helped develop us into responsible, hard-working adults, contributors to those around us and society at large.  Self-discipline, working under the direction of others, beginning and finishing difficult tasks under difficult circumstances, and being compensated for that difficult work--character-building values learned while working in the fields.

    


"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."