MY FIRST JOBSeptember 16, 2015
throwing it back to the high school years...but where are my eye brows?
I'm more of a sit down at my computer and type the first idea that comes to mind, kind of girl. Though while browsing my huge list of unread emails, one in particular stood out. The team over at The Ladders were curious to hear about my very first job and what it had done to shape me into the person I am today. If you're a frequent reader, you know since July have been having case of the "feelin oldsies." This was no exception, but honestly, thinking back to my very first job gave me a new found appreciation for all I have now.
I was sixteen and on a family vacation in Myrtle Beach when I got the call. Well, when I got the voicemail. Can you blame me for not answering while at the beach?! I had spent the majority of my summer putting in applications around town because quite frankly, my parents were sick of putting gas in my car. Being from a small town, I didn't have many options and the last place I wanted to be was at the local fast food joint where ten other kids I went to school with worked.
I was pleased to hear the voice of a nice, young lady named Abbey on my voicemail from the local nursing home. I called her back in an instant and still to this day remember how nervous I was. She was super nice on the phone and during our interview when I returned home. Not that I remember much of that interview. I get a serious case of nerves in those situations and tend to black out. Clearly I must have made an impression, because I got the job, and started the following week.
That fall my Junior year of high school started. I continued to work at the nursing home a few nights a week and every other weekend. It wasn't much, but it was enough to fill up my car and shamelessly stuff things off the dollar menu down my throat. When I think back to it now, I can't believe how naive I was. Sure I was young; I had no real responsibilities and cared about next to nothing. I'm sure I complained about my shifts, sometimes as little as 4 hours at a time and I'm sure my parents couldn't wait until I was thrown into the real world.
My parents started their family young, younger than most chose to and certainly younger than most plan to. Through the good and bad times, they always worked, always had their minds focused on getting to work and doing the best they could. Both my sister and I have acquired our work ethic from our parents and complain as I might, them cutting me off at 16 was the best thing they could have done for me. Not only did it force me out of my comfort zone and into the real world, but it showed me what it meant to be dedicated, to care. Your work performance reflects your character, and the first time my once boss told me I was doing an excellent job, was the first time I felt that true sense of pride and satisfaction.
As a mom I see things in a new light. I too will push my daughter to getting a small part time job when she's in high school. She'll moan, complain just as I did. But in the end, realize what I was doing. I am so thankful for all the experiences my first job gave me. It helped me understand and grow as a young woman, and I am certainly proud of how far I have come today.