I still have a small wooden stool my brother made in woodwork class years ago.
It has "use your nana" burned into it and heart-shaped cutouts in the sides.
These days it's used for all manner of things, including acting as a wee stepladder if I can't reach something. It's as sturdy now as it was when my brother made it as a teenager.
I still have the skills I was taught in sewing classes in my intermediate and high school years and it was in cooking class I learned to make an omelette.
My parents honed my life skills, but not every kid is lucky enough to have a mum who is an excellent seamstress or a dad who is a carpenter.