My daughter starts her first job this afternoon at the grocery story down the street. I’ll drive her down, drop her off, and beam with pride that this day has come.
I remember my first job and the feeling that I was becoming larger than I was somehow; I rose up to what the boss required. I became a different person than just a daughter or student. I was an employee.
At fourteen, with my work permit in hand, I became an employee serving ice cream at Mount Vernon. Then I worked at Staples after school and on the weekends until my second year of college. I loved it. I loved punching my time card, meetings all the employees, and working so hard to sell fountain pens back in the 90’s. Sometimes, I blocked aisles, worked with the stock boys, or cleaned the break room. I would converse with the cashiers all about their lives on slow afternoons.
I loved those teenage jobs so much!