Tom is on work experience this week, working at an aquatics centre (as opposed to a supermarket fish counter as Mum had unreliably informed Maggie and Janet). The first day was a novelty and he came out full of beans, his only complaint being his hunger. I picked him up at 5pm and he has usually been snacking since 3.30 when he is at home. Today however, he said something about cleaning out 70 fish tanks and a terrible headache he'd been nursing all day.
"It's the hours," he grumbled at the dinner table. Apparently he gets half an hour for lunch and no other breaks (sounds a bit like slave labour to me!) When he completed his application form, many moons ago, he wanted to be a marine biologist. Since then, he has changed his mind quite drastically and wants to go into journalism. Well, if nothing else, this will strengthen his resolve. That's all I can say I got from the experience.
When I did work experience, back in 1980 when it was a very new concept, there were three types of placement on offer; banks, schools and shops. I knew I wanted to be a teacher. I had known that since I was about six, when I used to line my dolls and teddies up in the garage and teach them lessons from my toy blackboard. I even had a register, full of names written in my best handwriting in an exercise book, split into house groups, each separated by a different coloured divider card. (Of course!) The only thing was, none of my dolls were ever cheeky and they all wanted to be there. Knowing this was my destiny, I decided that I needed an experience other than school and so I opted for a shop. I think I was also influenced that my best friend, Sarah was doing the same:
"It's the hours," he grumbled at the dinner table. Apparently he gets half an hour for lunch and no other breaks (sounds a bit like slave labour to me!) When he completed his application form, many moons ago, he wanted to be a marine biologist. Since then, he has changed his mind quite drastically and wants to go into journalism. Well, if nothing else, this will strengthen his resolve. That's all I can say I got from the experience.
When I did work experience, back in 1980 when it was a very new concept, there were three types of placement on offer; banks, schools and shops. I knew I wanted to be a teacher. I had known that since I was about six, when I used to line my dolls and teddies up in the garage and teach them lessons from my toy blackboard. I even had a register, full of names written in my best handwriting in an exercise book, split into house groups, each separated by a different coloured divider card. (Of course!) The only thing was, none of my dolls were ever cheeky and they all wanted to be there. Knowing this was my destiny, I decided that I needed an experience other than school and so I opted for a shop. I think I was also influenced that my best friend, Sarah was doing the same:
We ended up together at the Co-op on Salford Precinct. (Nice!) I spent my first day rolling up whalebone corsets!!! The next day I was given the job of serving fruit and sorting out the rotten fruit. On the third day I was sent to the butchery counter, where the butchers rubbed their hands with glee, left me all alone and went upstairs to play cards for most of the day. I remember scowling inwardly at anyone who asked for liver. Have you ever handled raw liver? Yeuch!
All of this was undertaken whilst they played one of those dreadful Top of the Pops LPs (not by the original artists) on loop, the same album all week.
Learning curves, you have to love them!
Learning curves, you have to love them!
3 comments:
I thought serving on a fish counter was where every marine biologist started!
I used to work in the Co-Op to on the deli counter - Liver had a very weird texture - as my only ever experience prior to that was eating it (reluctantly when Mum made it) I was amazed to see that livers were actually HUGE and that the bit of liver on the plate was actually a slice!
It was the tubes inside that freaked me out. Yeuch!
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