Skilled Labor - Part 1

It is quite rare these days to meet someone who is in the same occupation as his/her parents were.  Family owned businesses that extend beyond the generation that started them are few and far between.  The goal of raising our kids these days seems to have the chief end being to send them off to a good college where they can earn a 4 year degree (or more) and pursue a career in a more glamorous field than what we are in.  Gone are the days when our kids worked in the family business, or even pursued the same profession of their parents.  This is especially true when it comes to skilled labor.  (For the sake of this blog I use the term "skilled labor" in the traditional sense of carpenters, plumbers, welders, iron workers, electricians, etc).

Let me begin by saying that I am not opposed to pursuing higher education.  I loved my collegiate studies and there are certain fields that couldn't exist without it.  However, as a society we have put far too great an emphasis on higher education at the cost of genuine apprenticeships.  I have always loved working with my hands, building things, taking things apart to see how they work and then attempting to re-assemble them.  Working in the trades has always had an appeal to me.

When I think back on my childhood some of my fondest memories were of early mornings. My bedroom was directly below the kitchen.  Every morning, very early, I would be awakened by the sound of my dad in the kitchen, getting ready for work.  I could hear him walking around, piecing his lunch together in his red and white Igloo lunch box.  And then, without fail, I would hear the whirring of the coffee grinder, soon followed by the aroma of coffee and the clanking of mugs.  My dad would leave for work when it was still dark outside, well before the rest of us would get up.  Whether it was raining, snowing, windy, sub-zero temps, or whatever, I'd hear him gather his things and head out to his work van.  Day in and day out, off to go work with his hands, doing his part in building houses.  He was the essence of manliness - worn work boots, flannel work shirt, full beard, thermos and lunchbox, calloused hands - that's what I wanted to be when I grew up.  Maybe not an electrician but for sure a tradesman.  A tough, rugged man who built things, who knew how things worked and why things didn't, who was tough (even a little intimidating at times) yet whom you didn't want to leave.  That's what I wanted to be, right down to the thermos and the red and white lunch box.

As I grew up, I continued to emulate my dad - I set up a small workbench in the corner of the garage, acquired my own collection of tools and scrap wood to work on, etc.  I also enjoyed school as there was so much to learn and do.  Yet, as school continued through the years, it got more book-oriented and less hands-on.  Wood shop was obviously my favorite course in high school as it was where I could work with my hands and build things, exploring my passion for the trades.  But that was it, one hour of the day in wood shop.  The rest of the day's education was geared for... more education!  I love learning, but I love to apply what I learn and put it into practice.  I didn't want to sit in class and just theorize about stuff, I wanted to do the stuff... (to be continued)