First job teaches the value of hard work
Mustafa is 12 years old and has a job. It all started with a switch. A Nintendo Switch that is — and my refusal to buy one. Also my refusal to buy him an iPhone, a pair of Timberland boots and a MacBook Air laptop.
I may have pushed him over the edge and into gainful employment when I also refused to let him use birthday and Eid money to fulfil his consumerist wishes.
“That money is for college or university. Or maybe a house for when you’re older. The way real estate prices are going, you need to start saving now,” I tell him. “What if I get a job?” he asks. “Sure, whatever.” As if he’s going to get a job. I know my son, and he values his precious free time too much. The only way he would get a job is if I dragged him to a temp agency myself.
I really need to stop underestimating his motivation where tech toys are concerned.
The next day, he tells me about an ad in the weekly community paper, advertising a job for flyer delivery. He wants to apply. After a few days of cajoling, I email Stephen Shum, district rep of Metroland Media, for more information. (Full disclosure: Torstar, which owns this newspaper, owns Metroland.)
Stephen emailed me back and scheduled an interview for Mustafa. He also let Ibrahim, who decided he couldn’t sit idly by while his brother made mad cash money, tag along.
“You’re 9, you can’t get a job,” I tell my younger son. “There are laws.”
“How come Mustafa gets to work? I have things to buy, too.”
“You don’t get a job just for the money. It’s a big responsibility,” I explain to Ibrahim. But he is busy calculating how many months of work it will take him to fulfil his wish list.
“I have an idea. How about you buy us the Switch now, and we will pay you back?” Ibrahim asks.
After I stop laughing, I tell him he can sit in on the interview. Some hard work might teach him the value of money, or at least give him something to do during the summer.
I give my kids some tips on the drive to the Metroland office. “Make sure you shake Mr. Shum’s hand. Smile and look him in the eye. Show that you are eager to learn and can be trusted.”
The flyer carrier job requires employees to first sort stacks of local flyers and insert them into the weekly community paper. Individual papers are then bundled with rubber bands, or placed in plastic bags if it’s raining or snowing. They deliver the paper according to a detailed route map.
Mustafa signs up for two routes — 148 houses in total — and the Merchant Brothers Flyer Delivery is open for business.
The first week, a wall of flyers and papers are delivered to our house. Mustafa and Ibrahim haul the lot to the basement and start sorting. It takes them more than three hours to get through the pile. The next day they load up a wagon, fill water bottles and slather on sunscreen for the delivery process. It is hot and tiring work, and my husband follows at a discreet distance, to make sure they are OK. It takes them two hours to finish.
The next week, the entire process, including delivery, takes four hours and it’s my turn to follow at a distance. This is their job, and I want them to understand how it feels to work hard for the things you want.
“So what do you think?” I ask Mustafa after three weeks.
He nods his head. “Yeah,” he says, which is his answer to most things these days. I’m going to interpret that as “Everything is cool, mom.” I ask Ibrahim about his first job. “It’s very hard. Much harder than I thought,” he says.
Helping my kids learn the value of hard work and money? That’s a parenting double mic drop. But mostly I’m proud of their tenacity. I know whatever my sons buy with their hard earned cash will be meaningful, as well as entertaining. I guess I can live with that. Uzma Jalaluddin is a high school teacher in the York Region. She writes about parenting and other life adventures. Reach her at ujalaluddin@outlook.com