The things we learn
By Daniel Fuller
I just overheard a landscape apprentice working on my neighbour’s yard across the fence complaining that he just couldn’t get the levels right. His boss was patient and took the time to let him get it right himself. I didn’t stay outside long enough to hear how the story ended, but I reckon it could have gone one of two ways.
Hopefully, he eventually got it right, sending a rush of dopamine and feelings of accomplishment through his body. He’ll walk a little taller and be ready for the next challenge, but maybe he internally gave up and let somebody more competent do it for him. In this case, he’ll confirm what he secretly suspects: that he’s not able to do this job to the level of his co-workers, and he’ll start to mentally check out.
I’m not sure I believe in all that hype about Millennials and Gen Z’ers being lazy. I think spoiled kids are generally lazy and grow up to be lazy adults. It’s always been that way. That’s one reason some people never really make much of their lives – they continue to take the path that seems easy at first but leaves them too psychologically weak to overcome even the simplest hurdle.
Contrast that with those of us who belong to the group of lifelong learners and tinkerers who accumulate a bunch of lessons along the way. Some of them are lessons passed down from greater minds that came before us, like ‘right plant, right place,’ or ‘take small and slow steps.’ Other lessons are learned through bitter experiences, and we tend to cherish them because they keep us safe from repeating our mistakes.
Some lessons we have to learn more than once, and they are so painful that they make us cringe when we remember the times we failed to learn. Early in my landscape maintenance career, I remember I parked the work ute in front of a client’s house one day and smashed the passenger window while I was whipper-snipping. My boss had the window repaired, and I did it again the day I got the ute back. After those two events, I always parked the vehicle next door to each job, away from the path of projectiles.
Experiences like that impact us, and hopefully, we can instill the lesson in the next generation without the pain of the experience. “Hey bud, never park the ute next to a lawn mowing job. Here’s why…”
When I was a team leader, I could forgive most things. If you were late, I was still getting paid. If you broke your hand doing something stupid and needed to do all the easy tasks for a few months, that’s groovy. If your kid beat up the teacher and we’ve got to go pick them up, what’s the address?
The one thing I can’t forgive is a consistent lack of heart. As long as you’re being a Negative Nelly, we can never achieve the things I need for us to achieve.
I’ve often felt like that apprentice from across the fence, unsure whether I could do something because it was hard. That feeling is just a normal part of growth.
I have never had a boss as patient with me as this apprentice’s boss. But if he can dig deep into that little beating thing inside his chest, I think he’ll be alright.
Daniel Fuller
M: 042 6169 708
E: hello@plantsgrowhere.com