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Rated: E · Essay · Teen · #1904858
Narrative argument in favor of students working while in school.
How to Make Money and Get Better Grades
By Allison Baker


         It was my last year of high school.  I had nearly all Honors and AP classes and a great deal of challenging work.  Senioritis was setting in, a severe case.  (Perhaps I should explain: “senioritis” is a near-fatal condition that affects hundreds of thousands of high school seniors each year.  Symptoms include a lack of willingness to get any work done and an overall absence of motivation.)  Unfortunately, I was a victim of this affliction early into the school year.  On top of all of my fast-paced, homework-intensive courses, I hadn’t the slightest desire to put effort into them.
         At the same time, I felt I could never afford to go out and spend time with friends.  I had no time and no money.  What did I do to solve both?  I got a job.  This may seem like the most ridiculous and counterintuitive approach I could possibly have taken: if I wasn’t getting work done in school, how could adding a job to my schedule help?
         Some may argue against students working while in school, especially if they are already involved in extracurricular activities such as sports or clubs, yet having work experience and the responsibility of a job looks good on college applications—and, as it did in my case, can help a student remain disciplined.  I conquered senioritis and made money in the process.  Like doctors starting as residents before actually practicing as medical professionals, I started with an entry-level job to gain experience that would benefit me later in life.
         My first job was at Cold Stone Creamery, right down the street from my house.  For over a month I had been applying to restaurants and stores in the Ahwatukee, Chandler and Tempe area and became frustrated when I didn’t hear back from anyone.  One day, however, I got a call from Rick, the owner of Cold Stone.  He was looking for someone available to work weekends, especially Sundays.  I thought, “This is perfect for my schedule.  I’ll work a couple days a week, and still have time for school.”
         The new job wasn’t difficult, but it was stressful when I was starting out.  I wasn’t used to having to learn so many things at once.  I would scoop and mix the ice cream “creations” for customers, and ring them up.  (At Cold Stone, customers choose which flavor of ice cream they want and then select “mix-ins”—various candies and fruit—to be combined into their dessert.)  Closing duties weren’t my favorite: washing the dishes—mountains of them piled up not only by the massive three-compartment sink but also on the long stainless steel table in the back of the store—sweeping, mopping, Windexing every glass surface in sight, and somehow maneuvering the trash bags out of all of the garbage bins, including one metal cigarette-style bin that was so badly dented that the top didn’t fit over it unless you kicked it.  It was tiring, but it was a job.
         Not all of my coworkers and I got along; however, that was to be expected with any job.  One of my shift leads, Glorianne, was a woman in her early thirties (the rest of us were teenagers).  Glorianne was extremely particular about certain things: the dish water had to be scalding hot, ice cream had to be scooped a certain way so as to not make a huge mess on the authentic cold stone slab, and all of the furniture had to be moved before cleaning the floors—every last tile had to be cleaned until it practically sparkled.  I was sure she hated me when I started.  The first time I worked with Glorianne, she lectured me about how she didn’t goof around about her work, and that “a job is a job.”  She emphasized, “I take this job very seriously.  Your other shift leads may not be that strict, but when you work with me, you’ll do things my way.”  I would dread receiving the e-mail with our schedule each week, and cross my fingers that I wouldn’t be working with her.  Gradually, however, I got to know Glorianne, and we became friends. 
         I distinctly remember one day when our ghea (the ice cream display freezer from which we scooped ice cream) broke down and all of the ice cream was about 20 degrees meltier than it should have been.  We put a sign on the door warning customers of the difficulties the store was experiencing, but a few still came in.  A man in his forties came in with his eight- or nine-year-old son and ordered a malt shake made with the most melted ice cream we had.  (Surely he must have noticed that it wasn’t particularly frozen, right?  It probably would have been just as good a shake right out of the ice cream pan as it would have blended with milk for 30 seconds.)  He watched as I tried and tried to scoop the overly-soft ice cream from the pan furthest from me, and whispered all-too-audibly to his son, “Let’s count how many times she drops that ice cream into the other pans.”  I wish it had been a joke, but he was seriously angry with me despite my efforts to get the ice cream he wanted.  How rude!
         I had never made a malt shake since I was still pretty new at this point, so I asked Glorianne where the malt mix was, and the man scoffed and muttered something to his son.  After I finally got the worst order of all time finished, the man complained, “It’s not worth paying for a shake if you don’t even know how to make it.”  He slammed his money down on the counter and left.  I was mortified, because I’d never had such a negative and angry customer.  Afterward, Glorianne and I talked for almost half an hour, during which she explained, “You know, some customers, unfortunately, will be like that, and you need to learn how to deal with them.  I even had a customer once who yelled in my face and filed a complaint because she ordered extra mix-ins and I charged her for each one like I’m supposed to.  You just have to be firm and explain that you’re sorry but you’re new and you’re trying your best.”  I was upset, but her advice calmed me and still benefits me today.
         I worked at Cold Stone for six months, on Fridays, Saturdays and/or Sundays to coincide with my school schedule.  While employed there I enjoyed not only having some spending money but also having something else to do that would force me to manage my time wisely.  I ended up getting my homework done quickly instead of getting distracted by Facebook or Tumblr all weekend and scrambling to get everything done at 11:00 Sunday night.  I think having a job made me a better student because I learned to be responsible, but I also gained valuable lessons about interacting with people (thanks to difficult customers and tough shift leads) and work skills that would help me in later jobs. 
         Although one might think that working while in school would take up too massive a chunk of time, students can have a part-time job working just a day or two a week, for a few hours, and still balance that with school.  If a student hopes to get a job in college, especially given recent nationwide tuition hikes, many potential employers may expect previous job experience.  Who would want a surgeon who had never had a residency?  Would you really want to be the first person they cut open?  Probably not.  Similarly, a company doesn’t want a manager who hasn’t worked a lower level position at some point in their life, or a chef who’s never looked at a cookbook. 
         My job was one of the most important parts of my senior year.  I believe it is important for students to have a job because a job teaches responsibility, communication, and other professional skills. 
© Copyright 2012 Allison Baker (alliswann at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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