Stories rarely remain unchanged, their context matters just as much as the context referred to by the story. I wrote this sequence of 21 stories about 15 months ago. You may have read some or all of them in their earlier form. Reading it now, we perhaps see something different, especially as we consider the difference between success and regret.
As I republish these stories, I revise and polish them. Some need few changes, for others changes are more extensive. At the end of each story, I add reflections based on where my thinking has moved onto, especially in the context of the Covid 19 Lockdown.
Success: A Little Mester?
My father was self-employed as a sheet metal worker for 30 years or so, until 1986. He stopped because he had multiple sclerosis and climbing on roofs, erecting chimneys is not advisable if you don’t know where your right hand or foot is!
Sheffield has a long tradition of “Little Mesters” and my father styled himself as such, even though they were usually cutlers. I suppose he saw himself in a tradition of independent traders, often fathers and sons.
He designed, manufactured and installed bespoke fixtures for factories. These included ducting (hence the chimneys), balustrading (stairs and overhead walkways) and machine guards. He enjoyed wrought iron work and made domestic gates, pointing them out to us as we drove past. Then he gave them up – they absorbed too much time for too little money.
Success?
Was he successful? He struggled. His problem was getting customers to pay. Everyone owed money and paid their bills once someone up the line paid them. It was understood everyone waited and would be paid in time. There’s no point going to law because you would bankrupt your debtor and then no-one gets paid. End-creditors, like the Inland Revenue, could bring down a chain of businesses by closing down one at the top end of the chain.
My father said it made no difference who was in government, Labour or Conservative, neither cared for small businesses. A lifelong socialist, he found it frustrating the unions supported his workers and not him. I suppose they were end creditors too.
Was he successful? Maybe not. He worked out of grubby workshops and had very few men working for him. It was not what most of us would think of as success. And yet … he was a problem-solver. He made close friends who found him work. And yet … he paid for a brand new house with central heating, put food on the table, took us on holiday once a year. And yet … he paid to get me and my sister through university.
Regrets
A big regret was I never showed interested in sheet metal work. He kept going to provide me with a trade. I was never good with my hands and university beckoned … the first in the family. He had a qualification in technical drawing, that’s all.
And yet … he was an autodidact. The man I admired sat at home of an evening and read books about politics, philosophy, religion … I followed him down that road. And yet … my sister is good with her hands. She designs, cuts and sews fabric into bespoke clothing.
When we think of the local economy, perhaps we think of businesses that aim for success like a 6-figure income! But perhaps we should think of relationships. My father solved problems by shaping metal and so he was in demand. Perhaps we should think of the legacy of families who move on into other worlds but are still rooted in the committed work of our parents.
The local economy nurtured my family. My father’s example inspires my approach to business today. Did your family grow roots into your locality? Does your family today?
LOCKDOWN POSTSCRIPT
Re-reading this story, the thing that hits me is my father’s artistry. An artist pays attention, notices things and then acts to bring about change. They build a body of work over a lifetime. Many artists accumulate loads of half completed projects. You can’t plan ahead as an artist!
My father’s body of work was dotted around the city, inside factories, up their walls and on their roofs. My father didn’t only point out gates. The car would often slow down and my father pointed to some great steel structure, climbing the wall of a factory.
They’re all gone, even the wrought iron gates. I don’t suppose anyone expected them to last forever. New owners, new machines, new regulations all take their toll. Even by the end of his life in 2003, I suspect he could see little to show for it.
My story is positive about his legacy. To be honest, I don’t know whether he would see his life’s work as success or disappointment. He used the words “and yet” when he reflected upon this sort of thing. I’m sure he saw the value of his life’s work in the things I highlight. And yet … I wonder?
We perhaps don’t think of industrial infrastructure as art. The challenge for my father was how to meet the needs of customers with a particular set of machines in a particular building, set out in a particular way. No two jobs were the same. Each job was a problem to be solved and that is where satisfaction came from.
For Reflection
Some good questions to reflect upon, during the lockdown: What is it you find most satisfactory in your work? What is your work exactly? What is the contribution only you can make? We’re not necessarily seeking something that will hang in a gallery somewhere for hundreds of years. Your body of work may be known only to you and your customers, it may be gone in a short period of time – but if it is still satisfying …
We’re on the cusp of something new, a world that needs new insights, new solutions to old problems. This means it’s not the glib solutions by internet gurus that matter – just the inspired insight that only you can see, if you take the trouble.
This was story 2/21. Last Story: Potted Meat (and Naan Bread) Next story: Retail: Merry Hell!