My #First Seven Jobs (Before I was 22)

Werk, Werk, Werk.

I kind of like the #FirstSevenJobs meme because it’s interesting to see how people started out (and to speculate shamelessly and wildly about what it means. ) I had my first seven jobs before I graduated from college–in part because I had a part time job as soon as I was old enough to work and not violate any child labor laws. My dad was convinced that if my brothers and I didn’t keep ourselves occupied with structured activities at all times, we’d end up in trouble somehow. He went all-in on the “idle hands are the devil’s workshop” theory, and insisted that after school hours were spent either playing sports or working part-time.

We all played sports at least some of the time. I played softball (catcher, most of the time, bench some of the time), basketball (point guard some of the time, bench most of the time), and I was the least cheery cheerleader on the varsity squad. I realize that not everyone considers that a sport, but tbf, we did those competitions you see on ESPN4, or whatever now constitutes the most obscure ESPN franchise. As the tiniest person on the squad, my job was to be tossed into the air, or lifted over a squad mate’s head in precarious ways. Actually cheering for the men’s football team was my least favorite part of the whole enterprise, even though my middle brother was the team’s quarterback, and I had unrequited crushes on at least a third of the rest of the team. (Worth noting here that my brothers and I are not genetically related, and Philip was 6’2″ and actually a very gifted athlete. I am 5’0″ and my physical prowess is limited to “a competent job of walking.”)

“I’m sure this is a valuable life skill that will come in handy later.”

But when we weren’t playing sports, we had jobs. My first seven:

1. Babysitting, like every other woman who didn’t grow up hating babies. One of my charges friended me on Facebook a while back, and he seems relatively untraumatized, so I guess I did an okay job. (Hi, Derek!) I was 12.
2. Art supply store clerk at Jasmine Hill Art Gallery. I ran the cash register at a local gallery that taught art to kids. I had been one of their students and liked painting, so I spent most of what I earned at the art supply store. This was advantageous to my employer, but bad economics for me. I was 14.
3. Wetumpka Walmart — Cashier, and customer service rep at a Walmart branch in my hometown, population 4000 or so. One year I didn’t want to play softball, and Pa Spiers told me I had to get a job, per the Idle Hands Doctrine. I worked part time for minimum wage and discovered the joys of retail. Like working the customer service desk and having people bring in mostly used bags of dog food with Kmart price tags still on them, and having them demand to speak to your manager when you pointed out the latter. Pa Spiers still routinely reminds me that if this whole New York City thing doesn’t work out, I can probably get my old job back. I was 17 and worked there until I went to college.
4. Perkins Library, Duke University. My first work-study job. I shelved books in the bowels of what is now a really nice modern library, but at the time vaguely resembled a medieval dungeon. I only encountered students on the verge of having sex in the stacks once. This is by far the most boring job I’ve ever had, mostly because I actually did it the way it was supposed to be done. Spending hours rote sorting books by decimal system number is a job that should probably be done by robots, who are incapable of experiencing ennui. Ages 18–20.
5. Legal assistant, Durham, North Carolina ambulance chaser. I also had a second job in college doing some clerical work for a Durham lawyer that involved going to the Durham courthouse to get records, typing up some things on an actual typewriter, and tolerating light sexual harassment. I was 19.
6. Intern, Alabama Attorney General’s Office. Duke required Public Policy majors to complete an internship with a government institution or NGO in order to graduate. I couldn’t afford to go to DC, so I talked my way into an unpaid internship near my hometown in the environmental division of the AG’s office. My project for the summer was to write up a policy recommendation about the disposal of a stockpile of chemical weapons being stored in Anniston, AL. (I actually won an award for that paper, so if you have any chemical weapons you need to get rid of, I can probably help you out.) But my real job was organizing bar crawls for the law clerks, most of whom went to Tulane, the AG’s alma mater. At least one bar crawl ended in New Orleans. That was a fun summer. I was 21.
7. Teaching Assistant, Sanford Institute of Public Policy, Duke University. I was a teaching assistant for Alma Blount, who is one of two people I considered a mentor at Duke. The other was Peter Feaver. Both are still there. Both told me I had some talent as a writer, and both pushed me to be a better one. Besides that, I would guess that the only thing they have in common is that they both think Donald Trump would be an awful president. Alma, in particular, knew I’d write professionally before I did. I am grateful for what they taught me and still marvel at how much they valued teaching in an academic environment that didn’t particularly reward it.

So those were the first seven.

I would say that later jobs paid better, but I did work for $1200 a month at Gawker, and I’m fairly certain Walmart part-time is more lucrative than that.