I’m starting to think the hardest job some young people have nowadays is actually showing up for the job they were hired to do.
Now before somebody gets offended, I’m not saying every young person has no work ethic. There are some good ones out there. You can spot them pretty easily because they actually show up, work, think, and don't look at the clock every six minutes.
But then there are the others.
They show up whenever they feel like showing up, pick and choose what they feel like working on, and somehow manage to disappear whenever there is something that resembles actual work.
Meanwhile, I'm standing there thinking:
“We have a job to do.”
Not a job to consider doing.
Not a job to eventually get around to.
And definitely not a job where we spend three hours deciding which part looks the easiest.
I know how long the work should take because I've actually done it.
And I can still do it.
That might be the part that gets me the most.
I'll watch somebody spend half the day doing something I know should take a couple of hours, and I'm thinking, “Did we build this house or are we raising it from the foundation using interpretive dance?”
Then quitting time gets close.
Suddenly everybody becomes extremely efficient.
Tools start disappearing.
Phones come out.
People start looking toward the truck.
And you can practically hear the internal countdown:
“Only 17 more minutes until I can leave.”
Meanwhile, I'm still looking at the job thinking, “We're not done.”
Apparently, that's an old-fashioned concept now.
And Then Comes the Paycheck
Here's where my blood pressure gets a little extra exercise.
Somebody shows up knowing how to do practically nothing, needs to be told what to do every five minutes, doesn't want to think for themselves, and somehow expects to get paid more than I ever did when I was doing the same work.
That's when the old blue-collar calculator starts smoking.
I'm thinking:
“Wait a minute... I've spent years learning how to do this, fixing other people's mistakes, figuring things out when nobody else knows what to do, and crawling into places I probably shouldn't physically fit into.”
And you're getting paid more than I did because you know how to operate a phone?
That's impressive.
I guess scrolling skills have finally become a trade.
Work Used to Mean Work
When I started out, you didn't get to pick the jobs you wanted.
You worked.
If something needed to be done, you figured it out.
If you didn't know how, you learned.
If you screwed something up, you fixed it.
If you finished your part, you helped somebody else.
And if you were standing around doing nothing, somebody would find something for you to do.
Usually very quickly.
You didn't walk around saying, “That's not really my thing.”
You were more likely to hear:
“It's your thing now. Get it done.”
And somehow, we survived.
The Thinking Part Seems To Be Optional
One thing that really gets me is the lack of wanting to think.
Construction isn't always about somebody standing over you telling you every single move to make.
Sometimes you have to look at something and figure it out.
Measure it.
Think about it.
Look at what you're working with.
Ask yourself, “What's the best way to do this?”
That's how you learn.
You can't always Google your way out of everything.
Sometimes you actually have to use the equipment located between your ears.
I know... radical concept.
Maybe I'm Just Getting Old
Maybe that's part of it.
I'm getting older, and I've been doing this long enough that I know what I'm looking at.
I know when something should take an hour.
I know when something is going to turn into a three-hour problem.
I know when somebody is working hard and when somebody is just moving slowly enough to look busy.
I've been around construction long enough to recognize the difference between “I'm working” and “I'm making enough movement that nobody notices I'm not working.”
That's a skill all by itself.
And believe me, I've seen some Olympic-level performances.
I'm Not Asking For Miracles
I'm not expecting everybody to work like a machine.
I'm not expecting somebody to know everything on day one.
Everybody has to learn.
I've had to learn.
The difference is that when I didn't know something, I wanted to learn it.
I wanted to get better.
I wanted to be able to do more.
That's what work ethic means to me.
Show up. Give a damn. Learn something. Take some pride in what you do.
And when the job is finished, you should be able to look at it and say:
“Yep. I did that.”
Not:
“Thank God it's quitting time.”
Although, let's be honest...
After a long day of construction, I'm probably saying both.
Because these days my work ethic may still be strong, but my back, feet, and knees are filing formal complaints with management.
And unfortunately...
Management is me.
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