The child labor field (100th Street SW)
Writing in Augmented Space
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Script
As you swing out of the driveway of the farm, take in the endless view of cornfields everywhere you look. [sfx: traffic noise] That one on the right as you go around the bend in the road is where me and my brother helped my uncle pick rock every summer. Pull your car to the side of the road and step across that green grass into the dirt of the field. As you gaze across that vast field in front of you, take in the view. Planting hasn’t quite started, so all you can see is dirt and trees beyond the field.
Pick up a clump of dirt and run it through your hands. That dirt and the sweat and toil that goes into planting and harvesting is what taught me about hard work and dedication. And despite the number of hours we spent baking under the summer sun, we were content in knowing our hard work would pay off.
It was mid-morning on a summer afternoon when my brother, uncle, and I hopped out of the truck that was parked on the side of that road behind you. [sfx: sound of a loud truck in background] The sun was beaming down, and the temperature was inching up to 100 degrees. My uncle then drove the skid steer down that driveway to your right and into the field. [sfx: sound of skid steer driving] Water bottles and a box of popsicles could be seen in the back of the skid steer. It was a scorching hot out, but we knew that work needed to be done.
My brother, cousins, and I spread out in that field in front of you and claimed our coverage area. As we searched for rocks in the field, my uncle drove the skid steer behind us. The footprints we left behind as we walked through the field could be seen in that fertile dirt beneath your feet.
It became like a game – who could get the most rocks into the bucket first. Whenever we found a rock – like many that you can probably see in the dirt below you – we’d toss them into the bucket. [sfx: sound of rocks hitting metal] As I trekked along through that field in front of you, an enormous rock came into my view.
“Brian, a little help over here,” I said to my brother, who came to the rescue, lifting the rock and tossing it into the bucket with a clunk.
Sweat dripping down our faces, we grabbed a water bottle from the skid steer that my uncle parked right by that telephone pole to your left. We gulped the water down until there wasn’t a drop left. [sfx: sound of drinking water] After a few hours of trudging through that field, we dragged ourselves across that field and into the pickup, heading back home.
Back then, we swore it was child labor, but now we realize what it really was – a glimpse into life. Life that doesn’t let you just slip by, but one that demands every ounce of energy you’ve got. It’s hard work like this that yields some of the best things in life. For my uncle, it was a field ready to be planted. For us, it was the contentment of knowing we had worked hard to accomplish something that needed to be done.
As you lift your feet out of that soft dirt, and turn around, heading back to your car, think about whether your hard work has made you content with your life. Pull your car away from that sea of black dirt, and get going again down that old dirt road. [sfx: traffic noise]