Jared Crawford
Director of Communications, Hall of Giants
My first job didn’t come with a paycheck. It came with whatever needed to be done. Many children of small business owners can tell that same story.
My first job was working for my dad. He’s run a painting company for nearly three decades, and from an early age every kid in the family learned how to sand, prime, and paint. There wasn’t much discussion about whether we wanted to do it. The work was there, it needed to be done, so we did it. (Yes, we sometimes complained, but that never got us far.)
Not so long ago, almost every teenager had a summer job. Perhaps it was in a fast-food joint, or at a gas station, or at a movie theater. Today, it’s very different. The Wall Street Journal and the New York Times have each recently reported that fewer American teens are working today. You probably don’t need a paper to confirm what your own eyes tell you. Summers are more structured, and schedules fill up earlier. It’s a rare kid who spends their afternoons knocking on doors and asking if there’s work to be done.
The first time I remember doing something on my own was the summer that I started mowing lawns around the neighborhood. When there wasn’t painting work to do, my dad sent me out with a lawnmower (it had seen better days) and a small can of gas. I knocked on a few doors, promising to do a good job. Before too long, I had a handful of lawns to take care of.
I was good at mowing lawns. But I didn’t really know how to price the jobs. Some lawns took longer than I expected, others less. And though I worked hard, I still made a few mistakes – like accidentally taking out an elderly neighbor’s prize zinnias. (I forfeited my pay for that day)
I didn’t make much, but I was proud.
Over time, I got more efficient. A few of my clients told other neighbors about me. Others would walk by while I was working and ask if I had time the following week. When another kid with a similar business went off to camp, I’d take over his lawns as well.
If I didn’t show up, the grass didn’t get cut. If I rushed through the work, it showed. (Mrs. Bates teased me about her zinnias for years.) If I did what I was capable of doing, however, people’s front yards looked very sharp indeed. I could see that my effort led directly to outcome.
My job title has changed, and I don’t spend as much time cutting grass as I did all those years ago. (I bet I could still troubleshoot a malfunctioning pull-starter, though.) But that summer taught me lessons that have formed my work habits ever since. You start by looking for the intersection between people’s needs and your abilities. You fill that need as best you can, adjust when things don’t go the way you expected, show up when you say you will, and keep going.
There may be fewer jobs down at the Tasty-Freeze then there were thirty summers ago. But the opportunities are still there for ambitious young entrepreneurs. It’s our job to encourage them. And to let them mow our lawns.
At Hall of Giants we are focused on telling the stories of America’s entrepreneurs – and in some case those entrepreneurs are now household names and billionaires. But no matter the size or popularity of an entrepreneur, they all started somewhere. Some with mowing lawns or bagging groceries, some with a more hair brained ideas. But no matter the idea or the size of it – there is value in taking that jump. Learn what you can do, where the market needs your skills and work at it.