Tough Road.
Loved building this over the 4th of July holiday weekend with a few employees from the shop.
One of the young men that works for me, his name is *Aaron, and he’s 34. He’s been on probation for 7 years and has 3 left. He told me on his first day that at his last job his boss threw a drill at his head while it was still running. “That sonofabitch didn’t respect me. So I quit.”
Aaron takes medication daily for schizophrenia. His doctor started cutting the prescription back recently because the pills were making him sleep 20 hours at a time.
When Aaron was 17 the feds raided two meth labs, both of which he had been involved in. He was given a 30 year sentence and credit for 20 served, so he spent 10 years in prison. Three years into his time he was involved in a “violent event”, resulting him being transferred to administrative segregation for the remainder of his sentence.
For seven years he spent 23hrs a day in his cell, was given 1hr of “rec time” by himself in a 20 x 20 cage, and had almost no conversations with other people except once a year at his annual prison board review.
This weekend I realized all the guys I work with uniquely value camaraderie and are excellent conversationalists. Especially since their time served is off-limits after their initial interview. The moment they set foot in the shop to work for the first time that part of them is no longer recognized.
In an effort to build confidence and self-worth, during work hours we focus on their gifts and skill sets, setting a tone that values who they are, not who they aren’t anymore. We find what aspects of the job they’re best at and make them the company expert in that area.
I was caught off-guard. Every single one of them expressed relief when finding out we don’t engage with their prison stories or the offenses that landed them there. That is for their parole/probation officer, recovery groups and church if they attend. At Gracie they are simply a “finisher” “jointer” “assembler” “packager” or “New guy. What’s your name?”
This weekend at lunch in town someone started talking about tattoos and soon the phones were out and shirts were being lifted up. I was cracking up inside — people at the restaurant were staring at us like “who the hell are these people?!” and interrupting their own conversations to eavesdrop on our descriptions of permanent illustrations and meanings.
Covered in sawdust and by no stretch of the imagination quiet, I’m sure the moment we poured out the exit everyone applauded. If they did, it was their loss. I’d put money down that their crew (if they even have one) is exponentially more boring than mine.
Aaron is a perfectionist. It’s rare that I’ll walk by him in the shop and not hear him talking to himself, but the smile on his face when he’s finished with a piece of furniture is priceless.
“Boss, look. That’s damn good isn’t it?” It’s damn good.
Yesterday Aaron was a no-call no-show. It was his first time not coming into work and without explanation.
It isn’t uncommon. The manufacturing workplace is a stressful, exhaustive environment. Today Aaron was in 10 minutes early, and worked harder than ever. I’ve realized there is only one person who can offer an individual their second chance, and it happens only once. Most of us will be someone’s 7th, 22nd, or 30th chance. It isn’t our job to count. It’s our job to provide a first, second, and maybe even third chance of our own for them. Whatever we can handle our end, we extend it to them.
Most of Aaron’s future depend on his decisions each day, just as it’s always been. But here at Gracie, at least he knows it’s 100% his choice whether or not he chooses to come into work each day. I hope he does. He has a tough road ahead.
*Name changed.
