Last week, I delivered some training to a group of Morning Star
colleagues at the California Sun harvesting facility in College City,
California (an oddly named town, since there is currently no college in or
near College City). There are about twenty-two self-managed colleagues
working there, performing the vital work of repairing and maintaining tomato
harvesting equipment and training equipment drivers.
After the training (which went very well thanks to a fantastic
Spanish translator and educator named Georgina), my location contact, Celia,
asked me if I would like a tour of the facilities.
Having a bit of time available, I enthusiastically accepted her
offer. We walked to the equipment receiving area and saw where mechanics
disassemble the harvesters. We then looked around the building where talented
mechanics repair and rebuild the giant machines. Finally, we walked to the
large covered warehouse where the machines are stored and readied for use.
The building swarmed with mechanics putting the finishing touches on their
work prior to the busy harvest season.
As I was admiring one particular harvester machine, a gigantic
John Deere tractor-harvester combination, Celia asked if I would like to see
the machine up close. I agreed. She called over her colleague Robert, who
proceeded to give me an extremely detailed tour of the harvester, pointing
out all its features and options. I made an effort to understand the
technology, but possessing barely enough mechanical understanding to operate
a toaster, I was at a bit of a disadvantage.
Celia then asked me: “Would you like to get in the cab?” Having no
reason to object, I clambered up the short but steep ladder to the cab and
poked my head inside. Robert, who was seated at the controls, began to show
me how highly automated the harvester was, and how it was relatively simple
to operate in air-conditioned comfort. It was very impressive. Celia then
asked: “Would you like to see it run?” Again, having no reason not to see it
run, I nodded, and Robert started up the machine. The noise reverberated
throughout the building (we were still indoors). I gained an instant
appreciation for the power and capacity of these noisy sentinels of the
harvest.
After appreciating the giant green John Deere combo, I noticed
another nearby machine that consisted of one part instead of two. It was
painted red and white. Celia asked: “Would you like to see the red
harvester?” Knowing by now that objecting would be futile, I nodded, and
Robert clambered down from the John Deere and began comparing and contrasting
the combination Deere with the single-unit red machine. As before, he pointed
out all the bells and whistles on the unit. No museum docent could have done
a better job or taken more pride in the object on display. Celia again asked
him to start it up for my benefit, but this machine wasn’t quite ready for
firing on this day. I thanked Robert profusely for his generosity of
time and teaching.
Thinking I was released for the day, Celia asked if I would like
to see how they do the harvester and truck driver training in the field. By
this point, I was prepared to camp there overnight if that’s what it took to
gain a full appreciation of the operation. While Celia retrieved a
potted tomato plant for me (a gift for guests!) we drove our cars about a
quarter of a mile to the driver training area.
A note about Celia. She started working as a seasonal truck
dispatcher in 2006, and worked her way into a full-time administrative role
with Morning Star affiliate Cal Sun in 2012--a very important California
agricultural company. She now handles significant human resources and
administrative responsibilities with large financial consequences. Her story
is that of a bona fide successful businesswoman. The agility with which she
handles the resources and people at her location, and the respect others
accord her, is inspiring.
While watching a newly-hired driver practice moving a unitary
harvester up and down the furrows, Celia asked if I would like to see the
harvester practice with a truck and set of trailers (during real operations,
as harvesters pull fruit from the fields, a separate truck/trailer
combination moves slowly alongside, filling up the trailers for hauling to
the factory for processing). Glancing at my watch (I had to be in Clear
Lake for an early dinner that night), I agreed. Celia called over her
training colleague, Cano, and asked him to provide a demonstration. Cano
spoke briefly to the new harvester driver and another truck driver, and asked
them to show me how synchronicity happens in the field. Like a pair of
performance artists on “Dancing With The Stars”, the two drivers
choreographed the movements of their giant machines in perfect harmony,
thundering down the field in a powerful display of synchronized automation.
It was…breathtaking.
I wasn’t prepared for Celia’s next question: “Would you like to
ride on the harvester?” At this point, she probably couldn’t have stopped me
if she wanted to. I climbed the steep ladder of the red harvester cab. The
driver warned me, wisely, to watch my head in the short space available, and
to hang on tight. And away we went, the harvester charging up the field, the
truck rolling alongside, perfectly timed. It was a hot day, and windy, and
dusty. I was wearing a sport coat and nice shoes. But I didn’t care. As I
held onto the cab for dear life, the dust and wind rushing across my face, I
felt as alive and carefree as Leonardo DiCaprio on the bow of the Titanic.
Hoping, of course, for a somewhat better ending.
Alas, the demonstration eventually came to an end, and I had miles
to go before sleeping. I thanked my gracious hosts and bade the group
farewell.
As I thought about the day, a number of lessons came to
mind.
First, the machinery that this group handles is big and complex.
The cognitive content of their jobs is off the charts. They can see the
results of their work right away—instant feedback. A machine or part either
works properly, or it doesn’t. There are probably a lot of cubicle-dwellers
who would gladly trade places with them.
Second, everyone working there was HAPPY. REALLY, REALLY HAPPY.
It’s just cool to see so many people that love their work.
Third, the entire group is self-managed. There are no titles, no
bosses, and no command authority. There is only work, and people to perform
work. And teamwork. Beautiful teamwork.
Fourthly, everyone is really motivated to achieve EXCELLENCE. The
Gallup organization surveys employee engagement. At this workplace,
engagement could not possibly be any higher.
Wouldn’t it be amazing if every workplace were this
great?
Feel free to download the short movie ("Download
Document" button) below for a peek at self-managed teamwork in
action.
