A countrywide scheme is tackling the problems of seasonal unemployment in our farming and fishing communities by mining their rich seam of expertise
AT SOME LEVEL most of us probably fancy we could make a respectable stab at driving a bus, waiting tables, writing a romantic novel or – the one we are all sure we could do much better – running a government department. But if asked to milk 50 cows, plough a field or ensure the winter survival of a mountain sheep flock, most of us would be clueless. The reason is, of course, that the core attributes for gainful farming take generations to evolve and are mind- blowingly complex and deeply instinctual. The soft skills of animal nurture, crop husbandry and landscape management must be combined in an intricate mix with harder proficiencies such as carpentry, construction, plumbing, landscaping and accountancy.
Abilities such as milking cows, shearing sheep or saving quality hay are undoubtedly difficult attributes to master. They are, however, almost entirely untransferable into formal labour markets – which are, in any case, often too inflexible to fit with seasonally determined agricultural practices. For this reason, farmers commonly encounter difficulties with finding off-farm employment, which leads to systemic underemployment within agriculture as technological advances make land management less labour intensive. The Rural Social Scheme is tackling this problem by mining a rich but underutilised seam of expertise within farming communities, and the results are slowly transforming country living.
On the approach to the upland parish of Kilcommon, the north Co Tipperary landscape seems deeply rural and raw, a place where farm income is hard won and where globalised Ireland never really left its calling card. The village itself isn’t chocolate-box pretty, but it is proudly neat and freshly painted, with an appealing lived-in feel. These days rural Ireland often seems bleak and abandoned during working hours, as residents commute for employment elsewhere. Here, however, the first sign of admirable local endeavour is the dozen or so cars parked around the village square.
Outside the community centre, rural recreation officer Con Ryan offers an ebullient welcome. A proud hill man, this former Farmers Association officer and later full-on community activist is now tasked with creating a series of looped walking routes across Tipperary. Immediately he speaks of the importance of the Rural Social Scheme to country living and points out that in present circumstances developing walks would be impossible without the scheme’s labour input. “Remember, the workers you are meeting all have long experience of running a business, and most are also involved within their communities,” says Ryan. “They bring huge commitment and enthusiasm, can work on their own initiative and possess a feel for the local landscape that makes them particularly good at developing walks.”
Despite such infectious enthusiasm, I am still half dreading a toe-curling encounter with a group of elderly, truculent and perhaps work-shy males. Inside the community centre, however, the scheme’s participants turn out to be refreshingly young, unaffectedly articulate, almost 50 per cent female and deeply imbued with a sense of community and shared responsibility.
Local priest Fr Dan Woods believes these self-help characteristics may have arisen from a deeply isolated history. “There was actually no road into Kilcommom until the 1830s, so a series of Mass paths traversing the hills were used by the community. People from the hills walked up to eight miles to worship at a Mass rock, and in living memory the same paths were used by school-going children and by people collecting groceries,” says Woods. “These paths, footed by countless generations, are an important part of our history. The rights of way fell into disuse with the coming of the motor car, but with the scheme we are now reopening these trails as new pathways for new generations.”
So far it has all been enthusiastic talking about walking, which isn’t really surprising, as recreational trail building is clearly an endeavour that matches the skills and aspirations of the participants. But do those on the scheme carry out any other tasks on behalf of the community? Immediately a committed sense of localism becomes apparent. Pat Murphy, who has worked on the scheme for almost five years, speaks of helping those cut off in the surrounding hills for up to four weeks last winter – the worst in 40 years. “I visit a woman every Friday as part of my job. During the bad snow we brought her coal on a four-wheel-drive tractor; otherwise you wouldn’t have a hope of getting through. She had only a bale and a half of briquettes left at that stage.”
Other participants then speak of clearing snowdrifts, bringing supplies and filling water tanks for people in similar situations.
Mary O’Dwyer supervises the 20 participants in the area’s scheme. Her list of the activities that it supports includes services for heritage research, rural transport, a parenting group, the tidy villages committee, those living alone, a group of retirees and residents of a community housing scheme. “We cut grass, fix taps, trim hedges, clean up and do whatever else needs to be done.” She then evokes the ancient Irish tradition of the meitheal by pointing out that “if a tractor, a trailer or a bit of machinery is required for some urgent piece of community work, such as clearing snow, participants gladly provide these immediately at no cost to the scheme”.
Bernadette Quinlan is the person credited with the walking-trail idea. She researches tangible heritage and uses this knowledge to attract the necessary spending and employment for community regeneration. She plans to make Kilcommon’s new Pilgrim Trail Ireland’s first audio walking route, so walkers may tune into stories about the multilayered sagas of the upland landscape.
Those present say their earnings from the scheme are modest but welcome. For most it means not having to migrate or emigrate, with the added benefit of regular companionship, which reduces the often isolating experience of working full time within agriculture. Suckler farmer Kevin Shanahan finds the inbuilt flexibility of the scheme its primary attraction. “If you have a cow calving you can go away from your work for a few hours and then come back again: you’re not tied down to hours. It’s very handy that your time is your own.”
When asked if any of those present would accept a well-paid job that involved giving up farming and moving away from the area, it is shakes of the head all around. Everyone wants to stay among their beloved hills, but all agree this is only possible with the income from the scheme.
In these days of high unemployment, active labour-market interventions seem two a penny. What appears to distinguish this scheme from others is the quality and experience of the workforce and the fact that it has aligned itself to an underlying seam of localism and rural pride that is in sharp contrast to the individualism that seems to be destroying many urban communities. A strong sense of place motivated these participants to get out in the worst of the recent winter freeze and ferry water, fuel and groceries to those who were completely cut off, says Con Ryan, who believes the scheme is a modern manifestation of the volunteering tradition in local communities.
Others already have an eye on rural renewal for a secure future. “When the walking route opens up next August it will regenerate the area,” says a highly enthusiastic Quinlan. “Young people here are already asking how they can become involved with information points, restaurants and other services, such as guiding the route of our new Pilgrim Trail.
Rural Social Scheme: Jobs to be done
The Rural Social Scheme, which was launched in 2004, offers 2,600 places across the country to support farmers and fishermen. It is aimed at individuals for whom the formal labour market was not an option because they had untransferable skill sets or needed a flexible lifestyle. The scheme allows those unable to earn an adequate living in our primary industries to receive supplementary income in return for a highly flexible 19.5-hour contribution to community endeavour. It is managed by local integrated development companies on behalf of the Department of Community, Rural and Gaeltacht Affairs. Its high level of continuity, whereby participants generally roll over from one annual contract to another, has been a welcome feature. Developing the highly successful national network of looped walks has been the flagship activity, but participants have been involved in a wide variety of community endeavours. These include environmental conservation, managing museums, insulating the homes of the elderly, developing and maintaining sports facilities and even providing support for children with special educational needs. See pobail.ie.
