DISCLAIMER: this is gonna be a long post, I apologise in advance.
So yesterday this post came up on my fb timeline, written by someone who’s business is connecting grooms to riders in need. I thought I could move past it without saying something but I can’t.
I am a groom. I love my job. I also love my horses. I would give anything for them, they are my life. In my current job, when I was full time, I started work at 8am. We stopped for tea at 11am, lunch at 1pm and then we did evening yard chores at 3pm till finishing time which ranges from 5-6pm. I got a day and a half off work each week, getting paid more than minimum wage per hour and 6 weeks paid holidays. I was “on the books” aka I paid taxes on my wages, I was a “legal” worker. I’ve been in this job for 2 years and 2 months and I’m very happy.
In my very first job as a groom I was 18 - I had no idea really what to expect. My days started at 7:30am. I was allowed 10 minutes for breakfast once the 16 horses were all hayed, fed and mucked out by me. Then it was straight back to work till 6? 7? 8? 9? In the evening - I never knew when I’d finish up, it depended entirely on the whim of my rider. If he decided that he wanted to ride a horse at half 7 I had to be there to groom them, tack up, leg my rider up, put up jumps and then when he was finished and gone home I’d untack, wash off and feed everyone their dinner and then clean all the tack for the next morning before I could go inside for my own dinner. I was supposed to get 1 day off a week but that very rarely happened. If I wanted to take 2/3 days off to go home I’d have to work ¾ weeks in a row to “earn” those days off. Even then I would be bombarded with texts of “where is this” and “what does this one get fed” while I was away from work.
On show days I would get up at 3am and if I was very lucky I would be in bed by 11pm. But only if I worked my ass off and went without food for the entire day.
I was paid €200 a week regardless of how many hours I had worked.
I lasted 6 months in that job. I came away with depression and anxiety that I still suffer from. “But why didn’t you just leave?! How could anyone work in those conditions?! It’s not fair!” Because people like the person who wrote that fb post were telling me it was “normal”. You aren’t a “proper” groom if you complain, if you take days off, if you’re “watching the clock”. What fucking bullshit.
Are you telling me young grooms getting into the profession should be “happy” and “feel privileged” to work with these amazing animals when they’re getting no sleep, no free time to themselves, no holidays, terrible pay? “But they’re getting accommodation included!” Yeah I had accommodation included too - it had no heating, was overrun with mice and I had one plug in radiator to keep myself warm. But oh yes that definitely made up for my lack of wages.
So for anyone deciding whether or not they want to be a groom I have this advice for you.
Being a groom is like having any other job. You have the right to know your working hours, you have the right to days off and you have the goddamn right to AT LEAST minimum wage per hour. You are a human being, you are not a robot. It is not normal to be treated like dirt, it is not ok for you to feel abused or unappreciated, you are not something that can just be thrown away. Stand up for yourself. If your job isn’t up to scratch then leave, get the hell outta there because there are jobs out there like my current one where you will be a valued member of a team and you will still be able to live your life.
Horses are my everything - without them I don’t know who’d I’d be. But that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy my days off when I get to relax and switch off. That doesn’t make me any less of a groom, it means I’m looking after both my physical and mental health. You can still be a great groom and be paid proper wages, you can still be a great groom and take days off, and you most definitely can be a great groom and know your working hours.
This is so well put, it really worries me just how much grooms can be taken advantage of.
i just don’t think i’m meant to be in a relationship.
i wish i could be. i wish i was the kind of person who gave up love so freely. but my love is caged in the mason jars of my heart and i don’t give it up easily. i don’t tell the people i love i love them until it’s too late. i don’t do small talk; i stare at my hands and pick the skin around my fingers and try not to tell people that when i was fifteen, i tried to end my life and it’s still hard to wake up some mornings.
i don’t know how to talk about the small stuff. i don’t know how to keep a conversation going about the weather or school or my parents. i don’t know how to keep a conversation going about anything, really. i don’t know how to get to know someone. i don’t ask the right questions or answer correctly. i go on one date and then i run away because it comes with too much anxiety. i don’t know how to give someone the chance to love me.
all of my relationships– all two of them– have been messy. they’ve drained the life out of me. because when i finally love, i love too deeply. i am invested to the point of obsession, can’t breathe without the other person, infatuated so badly i let them drown me. all of my relationships have drug me under, never rose me up. i think i’m addicted to the pain that comes with fighting for the one you love.
i don’t know. i watch everyone else starting to settle down and i wish it could be me. but i just don’t think i’m meant to be in a relationship. i’m just empty empty empty.
M.E. King, a son of a British farmer who had a change of heart, reads his spoken poem to broaden views and help make a change.
I love when people aren’t afraid to change their actions because they realize that they have been wrong. The old people stereotype is that “old people will never change their ways”, but the exact opposite is what happened here. I think that’s one reason why I find this poem so beautiful.
exactly! my dad is 57 and he’d never gone a meal without animal products until realised I could never get through to him just by asking him nicely to stop after I went vegan. I complained and argued and ranted at him for a week nonstop and we didn’t talk for almost a month. then one day he rang me up and thanked me for being patient with him all that time but that he knew he needed that last push. anyone can change.
That’s so awesome. The world needs angry vegans if anything is ever going to change.