Finding a place to fit in at work

When I was a kid there was a worker on a neighbouring farm who made me nervous.

He had an awkward limp and his face was scarred, with his mouth twisted into a sneer on one side and the eye above it not quite right.

I visited often to see a friend but felt slightly uneasy when Cleve was around.

One day there was a local horse event which attracted lots of visitors, a bush race on tracks loosely circling the town.

There was an excited buzz among the horses and people gathered at the community centre. I was astonished to see one horse, completely unrestrained by halter or lead rope, simply following quietly at the shoulder of a man walking through the crowd.

Then I saw Cleve, who was trying to lead a thoroughly overexcited horse across the sports oval but looking like he was mostly getting dragged.

While leaning into the horse’s shoulder to guide it and avoiding the skittering hooves, he called a cheery greeting.

He was in his element.

As I grew up, I realised Cleve was kind, generous and a bit shy – and felt ashamed of my childish mistrust.

His rolling walk was likely due to a lifetime in the saddle and the scars were perhaps also a sign of an outdoor life. They were caused by cancer.

I sometimes meet people in racing who remind me of Cleve. Diamonds in the rough who are more comfortable with animals than people.

Not all of us can find a place where we fit in the average workplace or on the corporate ladder.

One of the things I like about racing is its diversity and the sense of belonging and purpose it can give to people.