Talking Shop
It dawned on me recently that not everyone gets to talk about sheep all the time. When I say everyone, I’m mostly thinking of my shearing clients. Those folks do make up almost all my human interactions. Many a farmer, both young and old, have off-farm jobs unrelated to sheep. Engaging in such a lifestyle is tricky – not just because farming is hard, time consuming, expensive. No, it’s because you go about your “normal” day in a light fog due to a portion of your thoughts stuck back on the farm. You might switch off a part of your vocabulary, that which includes manure, teat, uterus, and thoroughly scrub the dirt out from under your fingernails before arriving at a regular place of employment. No matter how well you transition, a focus remains on your flock at all times. But we are a talented sort, masters of multitasking and I have no doubt each are able to do well at those “normal” jobs. Where though do you find hearkening company empathetic to the contents of that other portion of your life? The portion which is so consuming, which provides no sick days or holidays, which you don’t do because it pays the bills but because you love it. I’ve not met many shepherds who aren’t passionate about their stock. Now imagine the shearer, a beacon polished in lanolin, walks in once per year and does not balk at words like manure, teat, or uterus. That is your chance to spill all the shepherding stories bottled up for too long.
I love being in this position. I learn, I teach, commiserate, and laugh every single day on the job. Shearing for the clientele I do means interactions with mixed experience. A countless number of emails start off, “These are my first sheep…” and there’s quite a few clients who have raised sheep since before I was born. My minor in agricultural education has served its dues most definitely while speaking one-on-one with clients but also presenting to the public as I did this past weekend at the Martha’s Vineyard Agricultural Society. Having to start at the basics offers its own challenges. Like the farmer working off-farm, I too must reel in the sheep jargon when presenting to a crowd of unsuspecting locals. It’s a good exercise to check that I can still explain each tidbit instead of being complacent with a settled bit of knowledge backed only by, “that’s the way it is because that’s the way it’s always been.” Meanwhile, my clients with a lifetime of knowledge push me to the other end of the spectrum. On their farms I’m reminded how it feels to remain a pupil. What stands out the most are the individuals of that reputation who also open their minds to listen to my stories. When looking up to the heights of achievement obtained by one’s senior and a gesture is made to say, “actually, we are eye to eye,” at least for a conversation’s moment I am captivated. That sense of respect bestowed upon me is what I try to remember when speaking to others. Every interaction could turn into recruitment of another advocate for lamb and wool. That’s reason enough for me to be a welcoming presence while discussing flock health with a new client or shearing welfare to an audience of knitters.
It's not like shearers need another responsibility piled onto their plate. Nevertheless, we’re in a unique position to serve our community one step further. That is a part of our business mission statement after all. Serving sheep, land, and community. Originally my take on community was the one outside the industry, trying to produce food and fiber accessible to local populations. Now I know we’re doing more than that, simply by listening. By listening, we’re also learning. One of the lessons passed on by a senior shepherd was to never close your mind to new knowledge because that is when you and your flock stagnate. The majority of my work-related interactions are about sheep. Not always pleasantly about sheep. Plenty of discussions about disease, death, and slipped-out-of-the-barn wet sheep needing to be rescheduled for shearing. Still, there’s something to be said for commiserating over and celebrating the ins and outs of your work with someone who understands. Talking shop if you will.
Cheers,
Siri
The flock from Slough Farm who I sheared during a public demonstration at the Martha’s Vineyard Agricultural Society. Read about it (and view beautiful photography) at The Vineyard Gazette.