As work-environments go, ours is pretty out of the ordinary.
We run an RV Park and live onsite (that’s not the weird part—although it certainly has its interesting moments). It’s a small park—just 105 sites, around 65 of which are occupied by long-term folks—which functions almost like a mini-town within our already-small-town. And we only hire from the tiny pool of park residents.
It’s a small crew, eight part-time people in addition to ourselves, and all of us live here. As a consequence, our team works together, lives practically on top of each other, and (because apparently that’s not enough time together) tends to hang out with one another as well. (Oh, and I shouldn’t forget dates one another—there’s been a fair sampling of that dynamic over the years, into the bargain.)
What this means (one of the things it means, I should say) is that when there’s any tension or discord among staff members, it gets amplified exponentially. Fissures in the team blow up into factions, and scheduling becomes gruesome, trying to keep people separated who are rubbing one another the wrong way—because they’re already practically tripping over one another just in everyday small-neighborhood life.
It also means that when the crew is the right mix, an incredible closeness builds up. Right now we’ve had the same crew in place for 18 months (a remarkable record for us, given that everyone here is on wheels!), and although there have been some of the normal human tensions that spring up just in the course of being people, this crew has stayed tight.
Last Thanksgiving Jon & I said that we’d have a turkey-day feast in our park clubhouse for anyone who didn’t have other plans—and the whole crew showed up to eat, and to offer up a Thanksgiving prayer together. At Christmas time we had a dinner & staff party for the grownups (& spouses), but we also had a Family Day in the clubhouse—trimming a tree, baking and decorating Christmas cookies, making ornaments, and stringing popcorn & cranberries for the tree. Everyone came—even the crew members without kids were in there, frosting cookies, hanging ornaments from the ceiling, and stringing popcorn together, along with laughs.
This team also pulls together to help each other out. Chicken-noodle-soup from scratch when one is sick. Regular rides to the grocery store and to church for the one without a vehicle. Lessons on budgeting and other tenets of adulting, for the one who just got out of an abusive/controlling relationship. Dinners for a teenage son of the one who has to work late at his other job.
When the custody-sharing ex-husband of one went to jail (meaning she no longer had any kiddo-less days in which she could get her work-hours done), her coworkers stepped in to divide up the days and provide her with free kid-care for the two days a week that pay for her rent and utilities. Her kids are little, and lively, and that’s no small commitment as an ongoing arrangement.
I feel Blessed to see this kind of old-fashioned Community in action. I feel Blessed to be a part of it. It’s not perfect—because we’re not perfect—but this is Community to be proud of.
We did have some rumblings recently—frustrations by one party being taken out on a second party through negative talk to third parties. And those are times when my “Boss” role and my “Group-Mom” role tend to blur together. We can’t afford to let things go sour (if it can be helped—which ultimately isn’t up to us) because we know from experience how miserable it is when the group doesn’t get along. I can’t force someone to behave differently, but I can (and do) at least deal with them directly on the subject. In this case what followed was a heartfelt apology, to the team at large and the maligned party in particular—and I have hope (not unfounded, I think) that the rift may be on its way to repairing.
The other thing that came out of that conversation was a reference to a (half-)joking comment by another member of the team, to the effect that it would be lovely to hang a punching bag in the shop, for blowing off steam when frustrations pile up. Andy wasn’t talking of work-frustrations when she made that remark, and when her comment was repeated to me this week, I stopped to ask myself if maybe we couldn’t actually do something of the sort. For almost every member of the crew, I could name some frustrations they’re dealing with. The shop isn’t the place for it, but we do have a little shed behind the clubhouse…
The upshot is that, after polling the team, I ordered a punching bag yesterday. I found an inexpensive one that’s freestanding on a base, so it doesn’t need to be hung up anywhere, and (although our folks said they’d put in the $5 apiece to cover it) Jon & I figure we’ll call it our early Christmas present to the team.
A Community Punching Bag may be an unorthodox response to interpersonal pecking, but what of it? Tallying it up, two staff members have admitted anger issues, another has a demanding live-in grandparent, several have kids (every parent could use a punching bag from time to time!), three have troublesome exes… Hell, whose life doesn’t have its frustrations? We may have a line out the door when we set this thing up!
Kana's Chronicles 
What a fantastic story! Many in the “mainstream” probably look down their noses at people who “have to” live in an R/V park, but a big found-family with the relationships you describe would make most mainstream neighborhoods green with envy. What matters is the love you have, not where you keep it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re right—we get (snobby) comments every year from the vacationers passing through who complain that there are (gasp!) people LIVING here! We take great pains to make sure our residents keep tidy and uncluttered sites, so there’s no reason (except the aforementioned snobbery) to complain about their presence, but there you have it. Every year.
As for me, I’ve found that where there AREN’T fences, there ARE god neighbors!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Kana,
Your situation reminds me of the old army before the 1973 All-Volunteer Army set in. In those days just about everybody lived on a military base, and it was a very close knit community. We were probably the first gated community if you think about it.
As a young soldier we all lived in the barracks, 44 of us in one building together, one communal bathroom and shower, We usually had a young officer, a second Lieutenant as our platoon leader, and then our noncommissioned officers. In many cases our noncommissioned officers actually lived with us in the barracks. The senior noncommissioned officers as well as the officers all lived on post in base housing.
As a Captain when I was assigned to Fort Snelling Minnesota, between trips to Vietnam, we did not have base housing but we were still a very close knit community. I would be invited to the commanding officer’s house for dinner and even though I was a bachelor I was expected to reciprocate. I got to be a pretty good cook and even the colonel’s wife was impressed. We entertained at the officers club, and you were expected to be there on Friday evening for dinner and to stick around at the bar for drinks. As a batchelor you were to be available to dance with the officers wives or their daughters as well.
During the “social season” you would be invited to dinner by the more senior officers in the command and you were expected to be there. I was dating a girl who ultimately became my fiancé and I was required to introduce her to the officers of the command before we could get married.
At one of our big official Dining-ins (a formal dinner party) I was required to introduce my fiancé to the officers of the command and their wives. Actually she was ‘interviewing’ for the ‘job’ as an officer’s wife. She had to be somewhat ‘accepted’ by the Colonel and his wife (probably more importantly his wife). Was this a woman who was suitable to serve as the wife of an officer.
I actually served with a Captain who was dating a woman and they were planning to get married. At one of the Dining-ins when she was introduced to the command the colonel’s wife very subtly said, ‘I don’t think this woman is suitable to be married to an officer especially an army captain’. In those days the commanding officer had to sign a form so that you could receive allowances as a married officer. The fear always was that based upon the pressure from the wife that your commander wouldn’t sign the paperwork and you would be denied those additional benefits. It didn’t happen often but there was always that fear.
Shortly afterwards the captain resigned his Commission and got out of the army, got married, and within a year and a half they were divorced. Sometimes I think that the colonel’s wife knew what she was talking about.
In those days getting a divorce as an officer was career ending. The feeling was that if you couldn’t control your family’s life how could you control the soldiers that were under your command?
Of course after 1973 things changed in the army with the All-volunteer army, people could live off post if they wanted to, we lost a lot of the formality of the officers club and a lot of formality of the Dining-ins and other special occasions that we had. It was a shame to lose all of those old traditions. But it was a new army and we had to get used to it.
Although a funny thing about that, while I was in Vietnam I sent home a service for 24 of expensive China, as well as all of the flatware and glassware and serving pieces that went with it. In 1973 the assumption was that I was going to have to entertain and I wanted to make sure that my bride had the accoutrements that she needed to properly entertain for a large group.
I still have an entire service for 12 with the tableware glassware and China that goes with it that’s never been out of the crates in the past 50 years. Unfortunately neither one of my daughter in laws want it and nowadays kids don’t use formal China in their homes anymore. So it sits in boxes and someday my kids are going to have to decide what they’re going to do with it. How times have changed.
So I can understand your small community there and in some ways I envy your position that closeness could be a lot of fun it can also have a lot of problems as well. But you do with it as you can. Regards
Hardcharger
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re right—it’s a situation with its beauties & joys, and also its challenges & pitfalls!
LikeLike
I have a friend who lives in an RV park and is doing quite well. Your story reminded me of the Grapes of Wrath and how the migrant workers tried to set up a community – the challenges they faced, etc. It sounds like you folks are doing great.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m grateful not to be dealing with Dustbowl-era problems—that makes even our “squabbles” seem petty by comparison! ;)
LikeLiked by 1 person
To have community in 4.0 is wonderful.
LikeLiked by 2 people
What a really great idea – I can imagine the tension defusing which goes on!
I lived in a caravan (as we call mobile homes or what you would call trailers) here in the UK for 18 years and loved it.
LikeLike
You did! Lots of people are doing it now, for jobs (traveling nurses, construction workers, etc.), or because housing is expensive or unavailable, or (the reason my husband & I did, when we first married) because they want to stay mobile and keep options open… I don’t think it was so common twenty years ago, though. I’m betting you have stories!! We live in a house now (though we still manage an RV park), but some of my older posts are about RV Life—you might find you relate. ;)
LikeLike