Many young people today aged under 18 are working or starting up their own small businesses, including Miss 16, who has started a car-grooming business. Photo / Getty Images
Many young people today aged under 18 are working or starting up their own small businesses, including Miss 16, who has started a car-grooming business. Photo / Getty Images
COMMENT:
"How old is she? She's pretty small," the elderly man said.
My daughter and I visited his home recently to quote a job cleaning the inside of his car. The man had warned me about a mountain of dog hair which could be tough to remove.
Miss 16 lookedover the car and assured us she could handle it. She had already spiffed up several vehicles (two were filthy) while starting her new car-grooming business venture. They turned out fine. Not perfect, (I had to re-clean one dashboard because of dust left behind when my teen worked in a dimly-lit garage) but clean enough to make a dramatic difference.
Back to the man's questions. I told him: "She's 16. And she's fierce." This last statement I blurted because it came to mind after years of watching Miss 16 on the soccer pitch.
"Well, I don't want her doing the job. Not to be ageist, but she's too young." I felt my shoulders tense at his preface: "Not to be ... sexist, racist, fat shaming, etc…" This preamble is no magic eraser for what in my opinion is a discriminatory statement.
Imagine a septuagenarian on my doorstep to quote yard work. I open the door, size up his thin frame and say, "Oh. No, you couldn't possibly mow my lawn or tend my gardens. There are too many weeds. Not to be ageist, but you're too old. And frail. Sorry, I'm happy to spend double to hire someone else."
I have, in fact, had business owners I'd estimate close to retirement age or older provide home services. I hired them based on online recommendations. I didn't ask their age or gender. In each case they did a very good job at a fair price.
When so much of our service economy relies on the labour of young people, can we afford to discriminate? Notice the server who brings you coffee next time you're out; or the retail clerk who sells you shoes. Many of them are under age 18.
What's more, New Zealand's Human Rights Act states no one can discriminate against you on grounds including age, sex, gender, race, ethnicity, country of origin, colour, illness or disability.
When so much of our service economy relies on the labour of young people, can we afford to discriminate? Photo / Getty Images
But in practice, sometimes landlords quietly tell friends they won't rent to people from certain ethnicities; some employers hire a prospect based on looks or won't hire someone they deem "too experienced" (often code for too old).
Miss 16 and I have put the surly never-customer in our (squeaky clean) rear-view mirror. Together, we've met many other clients who were a pleasure to work for, including a widow with six children and 16 grandchildren who praised my daughter's work ethic and a man who asked us to clean two trucks the same day. Neither questioned my kid's capabilities.
It's not just the sideline business that's new for us; so is having a 16-year-old in our house, because the milestone happened last Monday. We're discovering what age 16 means. It spells burgeoning independence, the chance to start driving; the ticking of a clock asking, "What do you want to do with your life?" It's a question Miss 16 can spend the rest of her days wrestling if she chooses. For now, she's focused on re-starting college and passing her learner's driving test.
For me, 16 also brings a looming sense of loss and change. How will I cope when Bird #1 flies the nest? Friends and family who've been there say by the time the sparrows reach 18, your home is their hotel and you're ready for them to spread their wings, their dirty clothes, papers, shoes and other flotsam elsewhere.
I had a tentative plan for how life might proceed when Miss 16 finishes college. Maybe her brother and I would follow her to America if she chose to study there. But a friend recently reminded me early adulthood is when young men and women must problem-solve themselves. And it's easier to let Mum figure it out if she's hovering nearby.
I'm slowly removing my hands from my eldest child's decision-making wheel. She needs to steer, making her own twists and turns, even if they lead to a cul de sac. Eventually, she'll find her way.
The kid is already learning more about the world with her (very) part-time job. Such as most people are good, but a small percentage are difficult; always get payment as soon as possible, lest someone tries to tell you the hour and 15 minutes you spent scrubbing cobwebs from windows, gum from floors, mildew from the boot and black stains from doors was all for nought since their 20-year-old car doesn't look showroom-new; and bring extra cleaning cloths because you never know…
One of the most important things that could grow from this time is if my daughter starts building a muscle she'll need throughout her life. It's the one we flex each time someone tells us we're too young, too old, too thin, too heavy, too inexperienced or too qualified.
An American friend recounted a story that happened decades ago when she was trying to land her first job in television news. Despite the fact she'd achieved high marks in school, was well-travelled and modelled in Europe as a teenager, a small-town news director in told her she didn't have what it took to make it in TV. Today, she's an on-air in Los Angeles.
New Zealand's Human Rights Act states no one can discriminate against you on grounds including age, sex, gender, race, ethnicity, country of origin, colour, illness or disability. Photo / RawPixel
As a mum, I want to protect my kids from situations and people I deem dangerous, unhealthy or simply rude. But I won't always be around to do that, so my teens, as the saying goes, must learn to fish. I'm letting them bait their own hooks bit by bit - travelling overseas to visit friends and family last year without me; taking on a job; getting themselves to friends' houses, the mall and the city by bicycle and bus instead of always relying on Mum.
Just wait until Miss 16 earns her restricted licence and starts driving without me. I may need to supersize my meditation app (and actually use it).
Author Johnnie Dent Jr wrote: "As parents we have a tendency to overprotect; it's okay to try and show them all positives but we cannot forget that the real world has teeth."
Just know, Dear Daughter and Son, I will always have ears to listen and arms to hug. You can never be too self-sufficient to need a mother's love and sometimes, her bark, if not her bite.
