Anyone who works in agriculture can arguably attest to the fact that there is a high probability of having to work alongside family, specifically if you’re working on a farm. Many farms are operated by a variety of family members, and my own family and our farm are no exception to this likelihood.
I started working on the farm when I was 11. I realize that sounds extreme to some people, but I’m not meaning I worked 10-hour days in the scorching heat before I hit puberty; rather, my sister and I were raised to help out here and there with jobs we were able to do being so young, and growing up, both March Break and summer holidays consisted of working on the farm.
At the time, I positively hated it. Now, I’m grateful.
I primarily work with my dad, and occasionally my uncle. I won’t lie; there are days that are hard as hell working with family, but there are also glorious, fantastic days that I consider a blessing because not everyone has the opportunity to work with their family.
People often ask me what it’s really like working with family, and I don’t sugarcoat it. As I said, some days are great, and others are shit, and when it’s a shit day, it could rival the diarrhea that presents itself after consuming Taco Bell.
I think that working with family brings out more emotions when conflict arises, and it makes sense. If you’re having a rough day at work and your boss is an ass to you, you’re able to walk away at the end of your shift and return home, not having to see them until the following day or your next shift. When your dad is your boss, you don’t exactly have the freedom of steering clear and avoiding him for the foreseeable future.
I have some shitty memories from working with my dad, but I also have wonderful ones, and there are far more pleasant memories than unpleasant ones. As challenging as it can be, I am grateful to be able to work with my family.
Photo by Richard Bell on Unsplash
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