Mike Couick
Recently, during a lunch with some of our staff, we began sharing first-job anecdotes. As you would expect, there were fast-food gigs and various positions at grocery stores and restaurants. Our chief financial officer jumped right into her future with a job at the local bank. No matter the position or the length of tenure—a few of my colleagues lasted less than a week at the drive-thru window—the stories were all told with smiles.
Like many of my peers, I had jobs before I had a job—feeding cows and horses, baling hay, doing laundry. They were called chores. But that first job, where I worked for someone else, provided an understanding of the workplace and how to adapt to it.
It was in the kitchen of a Shriner’s Club on the shore of Lake Wylie. The club hosted a lunch buffet every Sunday. We’d begin at 6 a.m. and wouldn’t be done until 4 p.m. that afternoon. The workplace education there was prolific. I learned things like just how much grease can accumulate in a kitchen and how to operate a deep-fat fryer. And how flouring the chicken made sweeping the floor a frequent necessity.
It was constant motion. The only chance to stop was when the customers wanted to chat. They were interested in me as an individual and what I thought of the job. They even shared their own first-job experiences.
My next job took me out of the kitchen to the 15 acres of grass that needed mowing each week. I’d start early in the morning on Monday and get to the last patch on Friday afternoon. By that time, however, where I’d started was often ready to be cut again. It certainly built strong legs and a strong back, but also a sense of patience. Constant work is just that—constant. It is never-ending, but it is valuable.
As I watched my own children encounter the workplace, I learned new lessons. One of the biggest mistakes I made as a parent was guessing what career paths my children would choose. I thought I knew what would make them happy and fulfilled. For my eldest daughter, who is now 31, I predicted that working in public policy would suit her. I found out that, instead, she was good at selling shoes. She got a job at a local women’s shoe store and became their highest seller by the time she was 18. Public policy did not interest her, selling shoes did, and she is still in sales to this day.
I learned that you can’t take what you like in a workplace and overlay it onto everybody else. It’s a lesson I’m still learning with my younger children. Instead of programming them for the future I see, I try to listen to what they are interested in. After all, they are going to be in a very different workplace than what I’ve experienced during most of my career.
That is an evolution that we’ve all seen happen before our eyes during the COVID-19 pandemic. If nothing else, it taught us to be innovative. We’ve not only changed how we work but also how we judge work being done. It reminded us that we need a separation between work and life. Just because technology has given us the capabilities to work wherever and whenever, doesn’t mean we should.
Cooperatives have been really good about making sure the work gets done and your power stays on. When it was necessary and when they could, portions of our staff worked from home. Line crews adjusted operation strategies to protect one another. Safety standards and practices never wavered, despite the obstacle of COVID-19. But cooperatives also make sure their employees experience the quality of life they are working so hard to provide for their members.
Change is as constant as growing grass and our need for safe, reliable and affordable electricity. Cooperatives will continue to adapt and innovate to improve the quality of life for our communities and our employees.