It Takes a Village

When we started Merridale more than 30 years ago, we were, in many ways, following what we would now call a for-profit social enterprise model. We didn’t have a name for it back then. I’m not even sure the term was being used much. We were simply trying to build a good business while being a good neighbour.

At its heart, a for-profit social enterprise is still a business. It needs to make money, pay its people, invest in itself and be financially sustainable. But profit isn’t the only measure of success. There is also a commitment to the people, community and environment that surround the business, and to using the business as a force for something bigger than simply making money.

That has always felt pretty natural to us.

From the beginning, we wanted Merridale to be part of a community. We knew we wouldn’t get very far without one. But more importantly, I’ve always believed that working together makes us stronger. We all get to play in the same sandbox. And while I’m still very much interested in excellence, improvement and doing things well, I don’t believe we have to do that by stepping over everyone else to get there.

I think we can build something good and lift other people up along the way.

One of my earliest lessons in this came through the wine industry.

Way back when – and I really do mean way back when – I started VIVA, the Vancouver Island Vintners Association, alongside just a few wineries. At the time, the Island wine industry was still pretty young, and there weren’t a lot of us. And, as I recall it, the wineries weren’t particularly sure they needed a cidery in the club.

So, I did what any sensible young businesswoman would do. I offered to work for free. Apparently, that was my negotiating strategy.

It worked.

With people like Wayne and Helena Ulrich at Cherry Point, Loretta Zanatta at Vigneti Zanatta, Harry Wolf and others who were part of those early Island wine-growing days, we set out to convince people that Vancouver Island could actually make good wine – and, in our case, that good cider belonged in that conversation too. The funny thing is that none of us could have done it on our own.

We needed tourism organizations to pay attention to us. We needed roads and routes and maps and stories. We needed restaurants, accommodation providers, farmers, food producers and attractions. We needed people to believe that there was something here worth coming to see, and then to work together to give visitors a reason to stay a little longer.

It was a lot of work, but it was also a lot of fun.

And slowly, something started to happen.

People began to see Vancouver Island as a place where good wine … and good cider … was being made.

Fast forward a little, and it became apparent to me that we needed a larger organization – a tourism society that could provide an umbrella for the many small businesses in our area. And so came Tourism Cowichan. Because, let’s face it, most of us are in the tourism business if you think about it — even the gas station that gives people fuel to travel around.

At the time, tourism in the Cowichan Valley was pretty fragmented. Mill Bay was doing its thing. Lake Cowichan was doing its thing. Ladysmith was doing its thing. Everyone was doing their own thing. The CVRD was doing what it could with a very small budget. But there wasn’t really a strong sense of Cowichan as a tourism destination.

So, we started working toward creating Tourism Cowichan as a proper society, with help from Tourism Vancouver Island (4TVI).

I was involved at the board level then, as I have continued to be, and it gave me a front-row seat to help make it happen.

It was, and is, a wonderful example of what can happen when a community starts pulling in the same direction. We needed to lobby all the regions to agree to work together, and once that happened, it became much easier to apply for provincial funding. After some hard rowing in the same direction — with a few deviations along the way — voilà, we have an organization that supports tourism across the region and a much louder voice to tell people why they should come here. Because we are a pretty amazing place, right?Today, people actually say, “We’re going to Cowichan.”

That may sound like a small thing, but it isn’t.

The Cowichan Valley has become a destination with wineries, cideries, farms, restaurants, accommodation, galleries, trails and all sorts of tourism businesses that benefit from people choosing to spend time here. Tourism Cowichan now tells that regional story in a way that simply didn’t exist in those early days.

Those are some of the things I’m proudest of – not because my name is attached to them, but because they became bigger than any one person.

That, to me, is what “it takes a village” really means.

Sometimes you start something.

Sometimes you sit on a board.

Sometimes you make the phone calls.

Sometimes you convince a group of people who think they are competitors that maybe they should work together.

Sometimes you volunteer because there simply isn’t enough money to pay someone.

And sometimes you spend years showing up to meetings that could, quite frankly, have been emails.

But every once in a while, you look around and realize that something has changed.

The community is stronger.

The businesses are stronger.

The destination is stronger.

And a whole lot of people have benefited from something that no single person could have created alone.

That is a big part of what being a social enterprise means to me.

But there is another community that matters just as much — our team.

Because without the team, there is no community to work within in the first place.

I’ve said this before, but unless my team is happy, I’m not happy.

Where you work matters. We spend an enormous amount of our lives at work, and I don’t think it is unreasonable to want that time to include happiness, laughter, friendship and some sense that what you are doing matters. That doesn’t mean everything is perfect. It never is. There are busy days, frustrating days, mistakes, difficult customers, difficult colleagues and probably the occasional day when everyone would rather hide in the walk-in cooler.

But I believe we should still strive to create a place where people enjoy coming to work. A place where people feel respected. A place where they can learn. A place where they can become better at what they do. A place where they know that their work makes a difference, whether they are planting an apple tree, making a cider, cooking a meal, washing a glass, greeting a guest, answering a phone or telling someone the story of what we do here.

And I want our team to understand that they are part of something bigger too.

When someone comes to Merridale for a meal, a drink, a tour, a tasting or simply to sit under an apple tree with their dog, they are having an experience that was created by a whole bunch of people. No one person makes Merridale.

It takes a village.

It takes the people who grow the food, make the cider, care for the orchard, look after the buildings, welcome the guests, wash the dishes, answer the emails, balance the books, fix what breaks and somehow keep everything moving when it feels like the wheels are coming off.

That doesn’t mean we all have to agree on everything. Perfection does not exist. But it means we understand that we are connected.

If our community does well, we benefit. If our team feels valued, Merridale benefits. If the valley becomes a destination people want to visit, we benefit. If another local business succeeds, we benefit from that too!

And if we can use our little corner of the world to make someone’s day better, teach someone something, give someone a good meal, provide a good job, support a cause or simply make them laugh for an afternoon – then that is part of the return on our investment too.

The financial side matters. Of course it does. A business that doesn’t make money eventually stops being a business. But I’ve never believed that profit has to be the end of the story.

For me, the better question is: What can we create with the profit, the people, the land and the opportunities we have been given?

That is the village I want Merridale to be part of. And after more than 30 years, I’m still pretty happy to be playing in the sandbox.

I just wish someone would stop leaving the toys in the cider press