Nothing like starting off the new year running.  Not me, I mean my minivan. It's still going, at just under 200,000 miles-- and it's about to be driven by my daughter Allison. Yesterday I finally signed her up for online driving instruction, and after she completes the first six hours, she can get a learner's permit and start "practice driving", with Andy or I next to her. Parent Taught Driver's Ed, that's what we're doing, and I actually can't wait to get started.  Because each hour of her practicing behind the wheel of my minivan means another hour closer to me not being an "abused chauffeur" any more, and another hour closer to her taking on more responsibility.  We plan to buy her a used car that she can call her own, but will expect her to pay for the gas and part of the insurance.  "She's got to have some skin in the game," we've been advised by a few people, and we agree.  Which means, now that she's 16, she needs to move on from her meager attempts at earning weekly allowance into something all together more interesting-- and lucrative: a part-time job.  And she wants a car so badly, she's fine with that.  But finding a job may prove to be a harder task for her to accomplish than learning how to drive.  "I will NEVER wait tables and I will NEVER be a cashier!" she's proclaimed many times.  When I mention working at a local clothing boutique, she says,  "I wouldn't want anyone to see me working.  That would be embarrassing." 

Huh? What is up with that?  When I was in high school, it seems like every teen worked, whether you had to or not.  Bank presidents' kids rubbed elbows with assembly line welders' kids behind the counter at McDonald's; my peers also clerked at clothing stores, carpet stores, mall food courts, movie theaters-- I got out of school early every afternoon to work at the town newspaper and was also a counselor at a summer camp.  I think we'd all agree that no matter what we did or why, our first jobs were great "real world" experience.  And sometimes, we made lifelong friends and had fun.

So, at first I thought all of Allison's affectations about jobs were just her inner diva (and child) shining through, basically just "spouting off" because she might be afraid to grow up.  But then I came to an eye-opening realization: I've lived in this Dallas suburb over 17 years and I really, honestly, haven't seen a lot of neighborhood teens "on the job".  I mean, the clerks at the neighborhood CVS, Starbucks, and Half Price Books are grad students from the nearby university; the "sandwich artists" at Subway recently arrived in America and need every minimum wage hour they can get just to survive; many of the cashiers at the grocery store and Hallmark shop are long-time grandmothers. There is no "newspaper boy"; our papers are delivered by a hard-working family man.  Sure, a lot of teens are over-scheduled with sports and other extra-curriculars and their parents want free time spent on studying, so I understand the lack of teen workers during the school year.  And I know the economy has made adults now compete for jobs previously taken by teens.

But I believe another reason I don't see a lot of teen workers around here any more, even in the summer, is the increase of helicopter parents--giving kids whatever they need and not expecting anything in return, raising a bunch of inept kids who just can't leave the nest when it's time. The more years I live here, the more I see the results of that kind of parenting.  It's no wonder these parents are showing up at their kids' post-college job interviews and talking benefits with their kids' HR managers--they've never encouraged their kids to be independent and work at anything previously.

Yes, it's a sad situation, but those of us trying to raise functioning adults, and those trying to become functioning adults, stand to benefit from their mistakes.   Because the more that helicopter parents helicopter, and keep their kids out of the job market, the more jobs will be open for my teen.  And the real world experience that she can gain now will be invaluable, and will make her even more marketable later in life. 

Now, if only I could get her to see that.