July the Fourth is a day for celebration and some serious reflection. Independence Day. For the Bohunk and me, blessed to be baby boomers, independence meant hard work. It was hard to find a job in late 60s suburbia for a couple of mid-teeners. You had to know someone, and once a job found you, it was best to put your heart and soul into it — even for minimum wage.
My next-door neighbor worked in the kitchen at a nearby Mr. Steak restaurant. At 15, through his introduction, the manager hired me as a busboy. In that job, I learned a lesson that has been at the front of my mind ever since. “If you got time to lean, you got time to clean.”
Impressed by my work ethic, Dennis moved me onto the grill once I hit 16 and could work longer hours. I learned how to gauge the doneness of a steak, plan to get several dinners to the floor at the right time, and do a nightly cleaning of the grill and flattop. It was hard work, but the income allowed me to buy a 1967 Mustang and treat the future Mrs. Fernlund (aka The Bohunk) like royalty. Hard work paid off.
My work ethic, instilled by family and friends, is a conviction that commitment and hard work have inherent value. Consistent effort, going above and beyond what’s required, seemed natural. It helps to be truthful, ethical, and trustworthy, even when no one is watching.
The Bohunk and I somehow managed to raise four children who possess a strong work ethic and little tolerance for bad management.
Our oldest daughter, Stephanie, who is already half a century old, works for a financial management firm, helping clients who have money to invest with all the details needed to ensure their goals are understood, and investments are appropriately managed. Although this isn’t her first choice of career, she enjoys the clients she works with and her boss, and is well compensated in terms of wages and benefits — what I call “golden handcuffs.”
She manages to complete what her employer deems a full-time workload in about half the time. Unlike her coworkers, she doesn’t spend time on social media or engage in mundane gossip to fill an eight-hour day. Since the Bohunk’s genes, which demand constant activity, are dominant, the downtime is excruciating for her.
Despite her pleas, the boss won’t expand her workload. In my day, bosses were more than eager to find more for me to do. And when I was in management, I ensured that we continually monitored how people’s workload affected their on-the job satisfaction. The responsibility of monitoring workload is something all managers should take seriously.
Based on Stephanie’s experience and observations of young people today, the work ethic in general appears to be suffering. Bad management is probably at fault, but younger workers seem more interested in perfecting their digital skills, and they want a different “work/life balance.”
We boomers came of age in rapidly changing times. Our parents’ generation were urban pioneers, taking factory and service jobs while promoting a boom in white-collar careers. They tended to display loyalty to their employer, which isn’t so common today.
In the late 1990s, as a struggling newspaper editor in Grand Marais, I could see how the job market was rapidly changing. An executive from North Shore Mining approached me on a mission
consider a post-high school career at its taconite mill in Silver Bay. Sitting in my office, we discussed ways to encourage local high school graduates to stay in the area.
I was not convinced that a job in the mill, 60 miles to the west, was a choice Cook County kids would make. The generation that built the North Shore and toiled in the mills, on the lake, and in the woods generally wanted a better life for their kids, even if it meant they went urban.
So, I asked the executive about the career paths his adult children were pursuing. His two sons were moving up in white-collar jobs on an executive track in insurance and banking. He admittedly preferred that for them over working in the mill, a place that was dusty, loud, and potentially dangerous. I finally asked him what made him different from the parents in Cook County.
Almost 30 years later, I’m convinced I was right. The factory jobs that disappeared over the last three decades are not coming back due to economic factors and an employee population that sees no value in the hard work they demand.
No amount of politicking is gonna change that.
