Can a Rural Resume be a Plus in the Job Market?

Potato pickers with baskets and barrels, flat-bodied truck, and John Deere tractor with two-row digger. Fort Fairfield, Maine, 1985.

According to Matthew Hora, author of Beyond the Skills Gap: Preparing College Students for Life and Work, employers and educators say “work ethic” is the biggest missing skill in the workforce. A strong work ethic, Hora claims, comes from one’s parents, jobs held in teenage years, and role models. In addition, many times workers from rural areas are pursued in the marketplace because of their reputation for high productivity and focus, job loyalty, and low absenteeism.

My husband used to travel frequently and ended up once in a heavily populated section of Massachusetts. At a certain restaurant, he and his co-workers received the best meal service ever. When they asked where the waitress was from, they were all shocked to learn—except for my husband—that she came from northern Maine, one of the most sparsely populated spots in New England.

My parents, also from northern Maine, were potato growers and pursued their business in a professional manner with good success. They capitalized on a key ingredient: cultivating long-term relationships with local families in which everyone worked together and benefited from doing a good job.

Dad learned this early, the hard way. He began growing potatoes in the 1940s with a heavily mortgaged farm. He hired adult transient workers for the crucial labor-intensive fall harvest in an era when potatoes were hand picked instead of harvested by machines. As he was new to the game, Dad didn’t realize the importance of early bonding. In the middle of the harvest, half his crew left, never to return. They had been offered higher wages elsewhere.

The next harvest, things were different. Instead of transient employees, my parents hired local people from families they knew. More inexperienced teenagers joined the ranks, but they were all encouraged on several fronts.

During the fall school recess—when local schools closed so students and teachers could help with the harvest—my parents daily transported workers who did not have their own ride. They also made phone contacts with each worker to make sure everyone knew what was expected.

Field rules were strict. At least one worker was usually fired the first week if he or she was caught throwing rocks at other workers or engaging in other unsafe practices. For the remainder of the season, rock throwing was at a minimum.

Dad tried to be visible at all times to most of the crew in the field, encouraging them to continue at a steady pace and adjusting things when needed if workers were too slow or too fast for their appointed tasks. He stayed with the field employees as much as possible because some of them would stop working as soon as he left.

Every afternoon, my mother handed out either candy bars or soft drinks to the workers. On very cold days, she brought them hot chocolate. If a young employee was ill, Mom would care for them in the farmhouse until a ride was found for the worker to go home.

These little touches helped solidify a good working relationship. There were no more abrupt employee walkouts. Every late summer, more new families would contact my parents, asking to be hired.

Prior to our college years, my brother and I also helped on the farm. Watching 50 or more people doing various tasks proved interesting, and us young ones wanted to be a part of such excitement. You never knew what would happen next. 

Sometimes wooden barrels unloaded from the field held mounds of dirt and rocks instead of freshly picked potatoes. Eventually the truck driver would find out who filled these barrels, and Dad would have a talk with the culprit. At other times, the two-row potato digger would break down in the middle of a beautiful, sunny day. Pickers celebrated in the field while an adult sped towards Presque Isle or Mars Hill in pursuit of new parts.

One night, a fire broke out in one of the outer storage buildings. A former employee was driving back to his parents’ house when he spied the flames. Mom called the fire department while the young man and Dad ran to the storage sheds nearby to move tractors filled with fuel that might ignite.

The entire fire department came and half the town watched. The last fire truck with the last load of water finally put out the blaze, with no spreading of flames to larger wooden storage buildings within yards of the torched shed.

All through the rest of that night, neighbors drove slowly past, looking for more outbreaks. But no more occurred and the next morning the harvest continued at full force.

It’s these kinds of experiences that affect rural children one way or another. We observe and sometimes participate in the work of our peers and adults. We watch how things are done, pick up the pace, gain experience and comradeship, and obtain the ultimate reward: a day’s wage for a day’s work.

So in interviews with potential employers, don’t be afraid to capitalize on your rural heritage. A conscientious, productive work ethic may be just what they’re looking for.