Leila, your post gets at some things I have spent a lot of time thinking about. I want to share some of the process I went through that ultimately led to me not offering work for stay anymore.
I will admit that I feel really, really protective of our land. It has been in the family since the state was settled, hundreds of years, and I feel a really deep emotional attachment to it and have almost a belligerent attitude about people interfering with it. I am even more defensive about it because it is being affected by herbicide/pesticide use nearby, over-hunting by some neighbors, things like that. It is also an undivided estate, meaning that other family members and I hold it in common, and they are less permaculturally or ecologically minded than I am, so there are power struggles over how to manage the land. I already feel like I don't have enough control over it, so the idea of relinquishing some of that control in an irreversible way (which is the only way that would give tenants some security) to someone who wants to contribute to the land in exchange for living space and/or food from the land, etc. gives me the willies. This is my emotional baggage, but I think it's safe to say that most homesteaders and similar people who are offering this sort of arrangement feel pretty invested in and possessive of their land.
There are huge problems with land ownership and private property as they stand--just to name a few, I own the land I do because my ancestors engaged in genocide against
Native Americans and enslaved Africans and African Americans to work the land and make money off it, and continued to exploit free blacks and poor whites after that, not to mention undocumented immigrants (common practice here). I aim to avoid that sort of exploitation, but there's no doubt that I benefit from unfairness in the system. That being said, I don't see the private property system going away anytime soon, and I don't have a whole lot of sympathy for people who squander what wealth and opportunity does come their way, which I see a whole lot of.
Anyway, it is really hard to manage our land by myself and meet my family responsibilities without using chemical/mechanical methods that are not in line with
permaculture. If I could afford additional infrastructure, I could do this better, but we we are "land rich, money poor," as they say. Almost all the
profit from the ranch goes into paying taxes and insurance and maintaining the ranch and paying our expenses, which are minimal--I live on around $6,000 a year.
So my original thought was, there are people out there who want to produce some of their own food, live a simpler life, etc. and they could get a chance to do that here, and I could get some help maintaining the place, and it'd be win/win. And considering what they'd be paying for rent to live in an apartment where they couldn't do any of that, working for ~10 hours a week on the place would be a good deal for them, especially considering they'd be getting food and access to tools and equipment in the bargain, and maybe gaining some useful experience and skills.
In my mind, it was a better option than a normal rental arrangement, especially for people who were cash poor like me, but were also land poor. But what I discovered is that for most people, the mental comparison they ended up making was not between a normal rental arrangement and what I was offering, but between the idea of having their own place and what I was offering. They felt exactly as you said, that they were contributing their labor to improve my land without any security or ownership in return; they felt like serfs. And unlike a normal landlord, who only shows up to fix the plumbing or collect the rent, I was always there. I had thought that would be a good thing--likeminded people living in proximity and sharing resources--but my constant presence ended up being an emotional burden on them, no matter how much I tried not to make it one.
Another big problem was that most of the people who stayed tended to assume I was made of money because I had my own big place and didn't have to work a job outside of ranching. So if I didn't want to spend money on something that would make their lives easier or that they felt they were entitled to, or didn't want to hire someone to do a job they didn't want to help with because they were too busy or thought it was too hard or gross, they thought it was because I was being a stingy hardass. Maybe so. But like I said, I live on about $6,000 per year, and that's why I can live without an off-ranch job. Most of my tenants were making salaries at least five or six times that; most of them thought that living on $30,000 a year meant they were borderline poor, and it didn't seem to register with them that I went without a lot of the things they took for granted.
Some of it was just different expectations. I use a
bucket toilet and eat mostly what I grow or gather, even if that means squash and eggs every day for the whole summer, and if something breaks in my house I fix it myself, and I was expecting a similar level of self-sufficiency and tolerance for (at least initially) low standards of living from people who wanted to be involved in homesteading and that sort of thing. They thought lack of indoor plumbing and doing without repairs they couldn't make themselves was living in squalor. I thought that not asking anyone to put up with anything I didn't already put up with myself was a good standard, but their standards were more oriented around the usual landlord-tenant relationship where the landlord is supposed to fix problems and maintain a "decent standard of living" (decent according to whom is another matter). I didn't mind them working at their own pace most of the time, but expected help when something came up that couldn't wait (cow bogged down,
fence broken, that kind of thing). They expected to control their own schedules and that they wouldn't have to cancel plans they'd already made, no matter what came up. Even when I tried to work this sort of thing out in advance, I found that what people said they were okay with and what they actually turned out to be okay with were two different things, when things moved from the hypothetical realm into the actual realm.
And it seemed like they wanted more and more from me and felt more and more entitled to it, while offering less and less in return. I absolutely know the same thing happens from the other side, like you mentioned, Leila--owners taking people more and more for granted while becoming more and more reluctant to offer them any amenities or recompense. This is another one that I think comes from the power differential--differences in power and status tend to make people feel justified in getting what they can out of the other party, without suffering moral compunction, because they view the other person as fundamentally unlike them and not entitled to the kind of consideration they'd give to someone on their same level. So even apparently decent people can do appalling things to people they don't see as their equals (either up or down the social ladder, although those on the upper rungs have more power to do damage, usually), and not suffer a qualm. So now I try to avoid getting embroiled in situations that end up with one person beholden to another or under another's thumb, because I think it's lowering for both parties.
The fact of the matter is, I have to work hard to live on this land. I have to work a lot just to afford to keep it, and a lot more to keep it productive, and I live without a lot of things that many people consider "necessities" in exchange for the freedom of not working for someone else. So yes, if other people are going to live here and benefit from the natural bounty of the land and all the previous work I and my family have put into it, I expect them to work as well; if that's "unpaid labor" then I guess that is what I was looking for. I don't think that's unfair. That being said, I don't think it's right to keep people in virtual serfdom. With rent and most of their food paid for by ten hours' work a week--less than I have to work to keep the place functioning and pay my "rent" (taxes and insurance and maintenance costs)--that should still allow a person or couple to work full-time jobs off the ranch and save for their own place. That's five hours per day on Saturday and Sunday, or a couple hours several evenings per week. Less time than most people probably spend watching TV.
I still think that's fair, and that I was offering people a good opportunity. But I found that it made them unhappy, and it made me unhappy, and it had a tendency to slowly turn everyone into our worst selves. Even likable people that I think would have been good, hard workers on their own places were mediocre workers or downright hindrances working on my place. And they weren't saving up or getting ahead, despite ample opportunity to do so; they just seemed to get stuck in a rut, even the ones who wanted their own places someday. It seemed like the arrangement was just draining all their motivation and positive, creative impulses so that they weren't moving any closer to their goals, and it was draining my
energy so that it ended up being a net loss for me in terms of managing the place. So that's why I stopped offering work-for-stay.
I'm actually really curious to hear about positive long-term work-for-stay arrangements (not just seasonal type stuff). I hate to say it but I've never heard a story of a positive experience of this kind from anyone actually involved (I have heard lots of stories about how it worked so well for one's father/aunt/granddad but I tend to take those "better days" stories with a grain of salt). It was a bit of a blow to me that things worked out so badly so consistently when I tried these arrangements, because usually I get along with people really easily (even if I do say so myself) and am less negative and
judgmental than I probably sound in this post. And these were all people I liked and thought I would jibe with. I have done a postmortem on things I think went wrong but I would really value having some case studies of what went right in successful long-term work-for-stay arrangements.
God, this post is so long. Sorry.