Last summer, I was in desperate need of a job. It was May, and I had just moved back home from college, so naturally all I wanted to do all summer was sleep in until noon, watch Netflix and hang out with my friends. Unfortunately, reality set in and I needed to pay for books in the fall and put money in my savings account for 'just in case' purposes.
My dad had mentioned to me that the factory he worked at offered a summer help program for college students to work there temporarily during the summer. I should say he mentioned it as a joke, never truly thinking that I would want to work in a hot factory making construction materials with a bunch of middle aged men.
It turns out it was a last resort. I applied to 11 different stores either in my hometown or close by, and none of them called me back. I turned in my application for the summer help program, and after a drug test, an interview and an orientation, I had the job.
I don't know if this is standard at factories, but part of the job was working swing shift: two weeks of 7:00 am-3:00 pm, two weeks of 3:00-11:00 pm and two weeks of 11:00 pm-7:00 am. As luck would have it, my first shift was 11:00 pm-7:00 am. I was assigned to be on the same shift with my dad, for which I was really grateful. I didn't want to have to face a bunch of strangers alone and sit by myself at break.
When I walked in wearing my steel toed boots, my glasses, my sport shorts and t-shirt and my hair pulled up in a ponytail, I could feel everyone looking at me and with good reason. I could tell they were wondering what would possess a girl like me to spend her summer working swing shift at a factory with mostly middle aged men. One reason was money; after all, it did pay $10 an hour, which is a lot more than I would make bagging groceries, and I could get overtime.
Another reason had more meaning behind it. I had just finished a particularly hard year of school. It took a toll on me emotionally, academically, mentally and physically, and I needed to do something drastic with my life and escape the tiring routine of the school year. I decided the best way to do this was to do the scariest thing I could, something so unexpected that even I didn't know how I would react. What I really wanted was an experience far beyond the boundaries of my comfort zone, one where I could learn something.
And I did learn something. I discovered I'm a fast learner because I seemed to pick up on how to work the machines quickly. I learned how to re-roll racks of tape and stack boxes on the skid in the correct formation (after many failed attempts).
I also learned what a unique opportunity I had. Everyone I talked to there told me to stay in school and finish my education so "I didn't have to work at a job like this for the rest of my life." This comment really stuck with me. I don't think it came from a place of hatred for their job, but I feel like they repeatedly told me this because I had the opportunity to go to college, graduate with a degree and get a job in a field that I enjoyed. I found out that not many of them had this opportunity.
It put my entire life in perspective for a moment. Yes, I had endured one of the hardest years in my life, but in the end it was going to be so worth it when I graduate. I realized that people would give up a lot to be able to go to college. This summer had become more than re-rolling tape and folding sheets of rubber roofing, it had become a teaching moment that whatever I was struggling with would come to an end. My goal was greater than any present struggle and God would see me through anything.
My dad doesn't work there anymore and I didn't work there this summer, but experiencing those three months meant more to me than just a summer job. It sparked a fire in me to start doing things that scare me, to start having experiences where I can learn something about myself.
