“Talent is a gift but your attitude, work ethic, and character are things you have to develop yourself.”
It seems to be a theme within a theme that most of my firsts happen at a young age.
Which is still true of today’s first,. My first job.
My parents made me who I am. One of their primary tenants of child rearing is, make them independent. For this reason I was taught a lot of things a a young age. I learned to do laundry when I was six or seven. I started cooking around a year after that, by junior high it became my primary chore to make dinner. I was required to learn how to check my oil, air pressure, drive a manual, and how to change a tire before I could get my license.
There are other things but lets move on to the topic at hand, my first job. While I did small jobs around the community (babysat, mowed lawns, picked up walnuts) my first daily job started in eighth grade. (I think. This one is a bit hazy, I really just remember late junior high.) It was a combination of things. Some janitorial activities, organizing and accounting for supplies, gopher, other small jobs when needed.
I had another one of those moments. One where I was talking to a friend and mentioned a memory from my past (first job). They were surprised to hear my age. I went back later and asked my mom about it. Why? It was really her, one day she announced that I was going to start. Then I did.
I was wondering if it was just a way to keep track of me. Know where I was. She said it was so I’d develop a work ethic, that one day that would count for a lot no mother what I did.
My mother has been steadily pushing me towards independence my whole life, one experience at a time. I’m not sure that’s a gift I could ever return the favor of.