Work, Work, Work

Our son Eric, fine lad that he is, will soon be the age I was when I started working part-time in high school. Getting that job was the best thing I ever did. Besides finally having some money to spend, I did a lot of growing up during those two years.

In the 11th grade I worked at a restaurant, washing dishes for $1.60/hour. Then one of the cooks graduated from high school, quit, and left for college. To be sure he wouldn’t be drafted he attended McGill University in Canada. I was given his job, and I was a short-order cook until I graduated from high school.

With that bit of background, The Boston Globe has this news item about child labor in Massachusetts.

New provisions in the laws enacted last year bar 16- and 17-year-olds from working past 10 p.m. on school nights. They also cannot work past 8 p.m. without adult supervision, the attorney general’s office said.

I never worked past 10 when I was 16 and 17, but there was rarely an adult present after 8 pm. Just us high school kids. In fact, during my time as a cook I was often in charge of shutting down the kitchen. There were Saturdays when I worked from 8 in the morning until final clean up was done at 10 pm. Fourteen hours straight! A 25-hour work week was not uncommon, on top of school, homework, drama club, and volunteering at a teen hotline. And the Lutheran church! Let’s not forget about church. I loved my life during that time, but I can’t imagine ever allowing Eric to burn himself out like that.