
Fewer teens are holding jobs, but mine taught me so much
Josh the line cook leaned on the doorframe, burgers steaming on the hot plate behind him. He was arguing that 'Point Break' is the best sports movie of all time. I disagreed. 'Point Break' is no 'Friday Night Lights.'
'Hot take, Ruskell!' He handed me a basket of fried pickles. 'You're so wrong!'
It was the summer before junior year. I was a waitress at Granby Grill, a little diner in a neighborhood of old millhouses in Columbia, South Carolina. The greasy spoon sat on the far end of the first floor of a massive brick building that had once been a cotton mill.
I was 17 but working behind the bar because Granby's liquor license had not been renewed, rumored to be a casualty of a local legislator's crusade to class up Columbia. Consequently, regulars brought their own drinks in plastic bags and coolers, and I'd refrigerate their bottles and hand out chilled pint glasses.
My duties at Granby were straightforward: Take orders, deliver food, clean tables. Open some days, close others. I got really good at managing multiple tasks, and having a lot of responsibilities made me more responsible.
These values and skills — strong work ethic, organization and responsibility — are what numerous studies hold up as the important reasons teenagers should work part time or during the summer.
They're what teachers mention at school assemblies when they encourage us to get jobs or internships. And yes, I developed those skills. But I don't think that's the main benefit high school students get from working. It wasn't for me.
As a waitress, I was in conversation with both coworkers and complete strangers more than I'd ever been before or since I had that job. I had more arguments, too. Standing behind that bar, people talked to me like the adult I wasn't. They talked to me as a confidant, a trusted friend. The stories they told felt like hints of the bigger life I was desperate to lead, taking my place in the immense world outside my school's hallways.
So much happened in the interstitial time and spaces between our official roles of waitress, cook, customer. This is where I think the value of a high school job lies: learning how to form community with people I never would have otherwise known. People older than me whose lives were vastly different. People whom I otherwise never would have talked to or learned from.
High school students like me spend about seven hours a day in classes, then often stay afterward for school-sponsored sports or activities. High school feels all-encompassing when you're in it. It can be hard to remember that there's a much bigger world in which no one cares what lunch table you're sitting at in the cafeteria or what you got on your chemistry test.
When we get home, we eat dinner, do several hours of homework, scroll on our phones and go to bed. There seems to be no time for a job.
Less than a quarter of American high schoolers held jobs in 2023, according to the US Bureau of Labor Statistics.
It's not necessarily a bad thing to be wrapped up in school. But what I found is that a job can feel like a relief from the academic and social pressures of high school, a place where you relate to others because they're people, not because they're popular or in your social strata.
Teen employment is making a slow comeback from a low in 2010, but the rate is still lower than it was before the start of the 21st century. I don't think it's because teens can't get jobs. In my hometown, there are 'Help Wanted' posters plastered everywhere. Every single one of my friends who wanted a job — granted not their dream job, but it's a start — has found employment. On a larger scale, workers are still needed.
According to Stephanie Melhorn of the US Chamber of Commerce, the United States has 'a lot of jobs but not enough workers to fill them.' So why aren't high school students working the way they once did?
I think high school has become more intense and time-consuming than it used to be because of the college admissions environment. Kids are taking harder classes to have more impressive resumes. We also feel the need to participate in impressive extracurricular activities to get into college, a perception encouraged by the social media apps we spend so many hours on.
Handing out fried pickles and slinging ice cream don't seem good enough for the college resume anymore.
I also think that boredom comes into play — or, really, the lack of it. With phones and the internet, teens never have to be bored again. One can happily doomscroll for hours. Why get a sometimes-boring job to assuage boredom that isn't there?
Whatever the reasons for the decline in teenage jobs, the result is that some students graduate high school without ever having held a paying job. As a result, they may not develop the particular skills and unique endurance that can only come from a low-paying service job.
For example, at Granby Grill, people regularly sent back their meals when a certain line cook added his secret 'JoJo Sauce' for extra flavor. But there were also people who sent their meals back because they 'just weren't as tasty as they were last time.' In truth, their burgers just didn't have the special JoJo Sauce they'd unknowingly eaten on their previous visit. The problem was no one except JoJo knew how to make JoJo Sauce or even what was in it. There's no math or history class that can teach you how to smooth that over.
The daily tasks that came with being a waitress taught me customer service skills, multitasking and better time management. But the people I met at Granby Grill taught me that you can become friends with those decades older than you and strangers who have none of the same interests or hobbies as you. They taught me that you can wildly and stridently disagree with someone and still respect them, still learn from them, still love them.
I don't work at Granby Grill anymore. The little greasy spoon closed a month after school restarted that year. I still think about all the people I met there though and what I learned from them. And I can't wait to get another job this summer.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
2 hours ago
- Yahoo
Hear that big BOOM? It could be the Tooele Army Depot detonating aging munitions
RUSH VALLEY, Tooele County — U.S. Army Col. Luke Clover promised a van full of reporters Wednesday that they will never forget the shock waves propagated by the open detonations that they had gathered to observe. The explosions, as the colonel promised, were loud. They were teeth-rattling. As good soldiers say: 'That's affirmative, sir.' But Wednesday's media day at the Tooele Army Depot — aka TEAD — was about more than sending local journalists back to their newsrooms with a fun and 'detonating' dispatch. Clover and his associates are anxious to share the purposes behind the army depot's open detonations that folks across multiple Utah counties often hear — and feel. 'We want to share with the community what's going on out here … and to let everyone know what's going on out here in support of the national defense and the United States Military,' said Clover, who commands the 83-year-old depot. Tooele Army Depot personnel, the colonel added, are performing essential missions. First, as part of the U.S. Army's Joint Munitions Command, the ammunitions base conducts safe and environmentally responsible destruction of surplus or obsolete ammunition. 'We have a lot of World War II-era munitions that come through here for demilitarization that are no longer useful. Or there are munitions here that have been deemed hazardous or unsafe to use for our service members,' said Clover. Tooele Army Depot also maintains munitions — performing surveillance tests to ensure that the military weapons are safe for use. 'And when they're found to be unsafe, unstable or not operating in the way that they're supposed to, then they're deemed ready for demilitarization,' added Clover. Disposing of obsolete munitions also frees up storage space for modern munitions. Established in 1942 while World War II was raging, the Tooele Army Depot is tasked with receiving, storing, maintaining, shipping, modifying and, of course, demilitarizing conventional munitions. The depot also specializes in ammunition equipment prototype design, development and fabrication. The weather and dry conditions found in Utah's West Desert region seems factory-made for the work being performed at the base. Some depots in other, more humid areas of the country must deal with moisture seeping into their earth-covered magazines and storage areas. 'But the environment here is perfect for that mission … to help maintain the longevity of the stockpiles,' said Clover. The region's natural environmental features can also help mitigate disasters, said Erin Trinchitella, Tooele Army Depot's industrial operations director. 'Part of our environment here, as you could see today, is soil,' she said. 'So if there is an accidental explosion, the soil here … helps absorb that.' Wednesday's media day occurred at a historic moment for the American military: Saturday, June 14, is the 250th anniversary of the U.S. Army. 'We are extremely proud of the job that we do in support of not only the Department of Defense's munitions enterprise mission, but also the overall mission of the United States Army and the other uniformed services: The U.S. Air Force, Navy, Space Force, Marines and Coast Guard,' said Clover. 'We work with all of them, and we handle and maintain the munitions for all of those services.' Depot officials say they are eager to be good neighbors in the Tooele County community and beyond. To help keep local officials and residents abreast of daily detonation activities, Tooele Army Depot dispatches frequent emails alerting local jurisdictions of the day's operations. Subsequent posts are added to the base's social media platforms — including Facebook, Instagram and X. There's even a 'noise complaint' hotline: 435-833-3300. 'We give people as much notice as possible that we are going to be detonating that day — and, along with that notification, we also include information for people to provide us with a noise report,' said public affairs officer Wade Matthews. 'We're not afraid to take that information … we can use that information for making adjustments, if necessary.' Lonnie Brown, Tooele Army Depot's environmental management division chief, said the depot works 'hand-in-hand' with Utah's Department of Environmental Quality, the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and the Army to ensure environmental protections. 'We have several audits to verify that we meet within our permit standards — and we're being reviewed several times a year to make sure that those standards are met,' said Brown. The depot also performs ecological studies to help protect local wildlife — while sponsoring several projects to benefit species such as the Burrowing owls. Tooele Army Depot also works with the EPA to test and monitor groundwater wells. 'We find that there's no significant impact on these wells,' said Brown. On Wednesday, reporters were given a rare glimpse of the lunar-like landscapes that double as explosion pits — and the precise task of preparing obsolete munitions for destruction. Crews prepare the 'donor' munitions before burying it in the explosion pit under at least seven feet of soil. The range area is then cleared and firing lines are tied and finalized. Detonation specialists, safely housed in a 'shooter shack' located several hundred meters away from the blast site, manage all of the firing lines utilizing a lock box that's connected to a firing panel, which triggers the detonation. Specialists executed several detonations Wednesday, with the 'assistance' of several reporters.
Yahoo
3 hours ago
- Yahoo
Hear that big BOOM? It could be the Tooele Army Depot detonating aging munitions
RUSH VALLEY, Tooele County — U.S. Army Col. Luke Clover promised a van full of reporters Wednesday that they will never forget the shock waves propagated by the open detonations that they had gathered to observe. The explosions, as the colonel promised, were loud. They were teeth-rattling. As good soldiers say: 'That's affirmative, sir.' But Wednesday's media day at the Tooele Army Depot — aka TEAD — was about more than sending local journalists back to their newsrooms with a fun and 'detonating' dispatch. Clover and his associates are anxious to share the purposes behind the army depot's open detonations that folks across multiple Utah counties often hear — and feel. 'We want to share with the community what's going on out here … and to let everyone know what's going on out here in support of the national defense and the United States Military,' said Clover, who commands the 83-year-old depot. Tooele Army Depot personnel, the colonel added, are performing essential missions. First, as part of the U.S. Army's Joint Munitions Command, the ammunitions base conducts safe and environmentally responsible destruction of surplus or obsolete ammunition. 'We have a lot of World War II-era munitions that come through here for demilitarization that are no longer useful. Or there are munitions here that have been deemed hazardous or unsafe to use for our service members,' said Clover. Tooele Army Depot also maintains munitions — performing surveillance tests to ensure that the military weapons are safe for use. 'And when they're found to be unsafe, unstable or not operating in the way that they're supposed to, then they're deemed ready for demilitarization,' added Clover. Disposing of obsolete munitions also frees up storage space for modern munitions. Established in 1942 while World War II was raging, the Tooele Army Depot is tasked with receiving, storing, maintaining, shipping, modifying and, of course, demilitarizing conventional munitions. The depot also specializes in ammunition equipment prototype design, development and fabrication. The weather and dry conditions found in Utah's West Desert region seems factory-made for the work being performed at the base. Some depots in other, more humid areas of the country must deal with moisture seeping into their earth-covered magazines and storage areas. 'But the environment here is perfect for that mission … to help maintain the longevity of the stockpiles,' said Clover. The region's natural environmental features can also help mitigate disasters, said Erin Trinchitella, Tooele Army Depot's industrial operations director. 'Part of our environment here, as you could see today, is soil,' she said. 'So if there is an accidental explosion, the soil here … helps absorb that.' Wednesday's media day occurred at a historic moment for the American military: Saturday, June 14, is the 250th anniversary of the U.S. Army. 'We are extremely proud of the job that we do in support of not only the Department of Defense's munitions enterprise mission, but also the overall mission of the United States Army and the other uniformed services: The U.S. Air Force, Navy, Space Force, Marines and Coast Guard,' said Clover. 'We work with all of them, and we handle and maintain the munitions for all of those services.' Depot officials say they are eager to be good neighbors in the Tooele County community and beyond. To help keep local officials and residents abreast of daily detonation activities, Tooele Army Depot dispatches frequent emails alerting local jurisdictions of the day's operations. Subsequent posts are added to the base's social media platforms — including Facebook, Instagram and X. There's even a 'noise complaint' hotline: 435-833-3300. 'We give people as much notice as possible that we are going to be detonating that day — and, along with that notification, we also include information for people to provide us with a noise report,' said public affairs officer Wade Matthews. 'We're not afraid to take that information … we can use that information for making adjustments, if necessary.' Lonnie Brown, Tooele Army Depot's environmental management division chief, said the depot works 'hand-in-hand' with Utah's Department of Environmental Quality, the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and the Army to ensure environmental protections. 'We have several audits to verify that we meet within our permit standards — and we're being reviewed several times a year to make sure that those standards are met,' said Brown. The depot also performs ecological studies to help protect local wildlife — while sponsoring several projects to benefit species such as the Burrowing owls. Tooele Army Depot also works with the EPA to test and monitor groundwater wells. 'We find that there's no significant impact on these wells,' said Brown. On Wednesday, reporters were given a rare glimpse of the lunar-like landscapes that double as explosion pits — and the precise task of preparing obsolete munitions for destruction. Crews prepare the 'donor' munitions before burying it in the explosion pit under at least seven feet of soil. The range area is then cleared and firing lines are tied and finalized. Detonation specialists, safely housed in a 'shooter shack' located several hundred meters away from the blast site, manage all of the firing lines utilizing a lock box that's connected to a firing panel, which triggers the detonation. Specialists executed several detonations Wednesday, with the 'assistance' of several reporters.
Yahoo
5 hours ago
- Yahoo
Fish detour provides easy passage at Pennsylvania State Park
NORTHCUMBERLAND COUNTY, Pa. (WHTM) — Fish at Shikellamy State Park now have a detour to avoid dams. New naturalistic fish passages at the park will provide safe passage upstream for native species, such as American shad and eels, the Pennsylvania Department of Natural Resources said. Close Thanks for signing up! Watch for us in your inbox. Subscribe Now 'Stewardship and conservation of our environment is the core of what DCNR does every day,' said DCNR Secretary Cindy Adams Dunn. 'You can see the results of our efforts in this fish passage, which is designed to function and look natural and help many kinds of life thrive in the river.' The inflatable dam at Shikellamy State Park creates the seasonal Lake Augusta — a 3,000−acre recreational pool. The new passageway is located on the dam's west end and is 900 feet long. It is constructed from boulders and rip rap, the department said, and includes resting places for the fish. With its construction, the passageway is one of the largest of its kind on the east coast, the department said. What's a pawpaw? Local festival celebrates Pennsylvania's only tropical fruit Pennsylvania has invested heavily in improvements to the Chesapeake Bay Watershed, committing more than $580 million to projects since 2021. 'Projects like this within the Chesapeake Bay Watershed, with smart designs that invite fish to migrate up and down the river naturally, complement other habitat efforts statewide to benefit fish, anglers and everyone who appreciates healthy waterways in their own communities and hundreds of miles upstream and downstream,' said Tim Schaeffer, executive director of the Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.