[thirteen]

I got my first job (under the table), when I was thirteen years old, answering phones for a deck and fence supply company and staffing the front desk on Saturday afternoons with my grandmom.

I thought to write about this because I'm reading about child labor regulation cases for Constitutional Law (POLI 230), and I realized, as I was reading, that I had a complete lack of sympathy for the parties arguing against child labor regulations, being of the opinion that limiting fourteen and fifteen year old children to working eight hour days was perfectly reasonable.

How much I have forgotten, or at least pushed out of my mind.

At thirteen years old, I was dying to enter the working world. It's not that I was uninterested in school. On the contrary, I loved to learn and did very well in school. But I picked up odd opportunities for employment when I could, babysitting for younger kids in church or helping my dad with various catering jobs to earn a few bucks. Saturday night cosmic bowling from 9 to 11 PM felt like the coolest thing ever, and having that spare $10 so I could go was vital.

My parents weren't big on giving me money and placed tight restrictions on how much I could spend on clothing, etc. I got a small allowance (I think $40/month), under the condition that I kept a detailed budget in Excel and reported back at the end of the month to show what I had spent the money on. If I had money left over, my dad would encourage me to deposit it into my savings account. And, of course, I was required to give $1 per week (10%) to church.

Turning 14 was very exciting for me because I could finally get a job. An old friend of my dad owned a german bakery and cafe and agreed to hire me to help out on Saturdays for minimum wage (then $5.15/hour). For almost two years, I worked eight hours every Saturday from 10 AM - 6:30 PM, with a 30 minute unpaid break five hours into the shift as required by federal law. The work was hard. I learned to cook on short-order, which was a challenge of multi-tasking and working quickly. I also learned to work a cash register, fill coffee orders, and do basic prep work for some of the baked goods. Sometimes it was slow, but most of the time the work was hard and I'd be on my feet and active for the entire first five hours of the shift. Some days 3 PM was glorious and the break welcome, but others it was annoying to have to sit for 30 minutes when I would have rather been getting paid.

The most annoying part of the child labor regulations, at 14 and 15, was that I could only work for 3 hours on a school day. Because almost no one wants to hire someone for a 3 hour shift, this effectively kept me from working during the school week. As a matter of fact, most companies will not hire workers under the age of 16 largely due to such restrictions. During those two years, I thought often and eagerly about all the jobs that would be open to me once I turned 16 and could work as much as I wanted.

When I did turn 16, I worked about 25 hours/week at a restaurant within walking distance of my school. I would get out of school at 3:10 and walk to my job, where'd I'd eat dinner and change before starting work at 4 PM. I'd usually work until 9 or 10 PM and worked 4-5 nights a week. When I got off work I'd usually eat again and then head home, where I'd waste time watching TV or playing video games and then go to sleep. Homework was fairly non-existent, but that had been the case for me since I'd been 8 or 9.

By the time I was 16 and a half, I was working 40 hour weeks and spent very little time at home. I hated attending school and home life was difficult and tense, so I tried to be at work when I wasn't at school. Days off were usually slept away or spent out of the house, which never really felt like home. I made a lot of money and blew it almost as quickly on my days off. Once I started driving, I went wherever I wanted and became almost entirely independent.

Despite the time-consuming nature of my job, the income I earned and the ways I was able to spend the money (laptop, car) enabled me to pursue other interests. I was able to start a gay-straight alliance at my high school, funding food for meetings myself, and was also able to start interning at the Gay and Lesbian Center of Central Baltimore doing web maintenance and graphic design, among other things. I connected with others in the community and attended my first Baltimore Pride, awhere I realized that the community was hundreds of times bigger than I'd realized.

When I started college, I was wary of my affinity for the working world and chose not to work. Balancing work and school would be difficult because I had previously prioritized work over school, so I chose not to work my first semester and have limited my work during the academic year since then so that I could have experiences like undergraduate research, student leadership, and participation in community activism.

Recently my finances have taken a turn for the worst and it doesn't feel worth it to stress about debt or go hungry for weeks at a time so I can experience college life at its fullest. It's been a good year, but it's time for me to work long hours again so I can get out of debt.

I realized earlier today that I was actually excited to be going back to work. The idea of pushing myself is always appealing, and in many (odd) ways, the food industry feels like home.

It's odd, though. Thirteen sounds... so young. All I wanted to do was get a job because I knew that with money came freedom. Now, however, I'm pretty sure I don't think thirteen year olds should be working. It's funny how views change, how perspectives differ.

It's a good thing child labor laws are in place, though, I suppose, all things considered. I grew up much faster than most of my peers, and I doubt being able to claim that independence earlier or faster would have been particularly healthy, as much as I may have wanted it at the time.