Do I have any SmartLess fans out there?
I was catching up in the car the other day (at 1.8x speed — I know, intense) and Kris Jenner was the guest. Go ahead and eye roll. But when she started talking about work, she echoed something I hear all the time from successful people, whether they went to college or not: early work gave them a real edge in life. She talked about helping out in her mom and grandmother’s stores growing up, and about scraping donut glaze off floors for not much money and all the free donuts she could eat. Unglamorous. Motivated by a paycheck.
It got me thinking: what age were you when you had your first job? Babysitting, retail, a farm, a family business.
And then, what will your kid say when someone asks them that question?
Because somewhere along the way, a lot of kids just stopped working.
If I ever gave a TED Talk, it would probably be about raising kids with privilege who still know how to work. And it would start with chores and jobs, because I think those are some of the most essential things we’re cutting out of childhood.
I started babysitting at 10.
I still remember being left alone with three kids and a box of Hamburger Helper, realizing I had absolutely no idea how to brown hamburger meat, and calling my mom from a wall phone for a tutorial.
I watched a lot of TGIF after the kids were supposed to be in bed.
Sometimes they never actually went to sleep.
I got in trouble once for leaving the dishes, and learned fast that babysitters who clean up are the ones who get called back.
I think I made five dollars an hour.
Lessons were learned.
My first real job came at 15, at a health club in Minnesota.
I started in coat check in the women’s locker room, then moved to managing the tanning bed schedule without accidentally burning anyone, and eventually worked the front desk, swiping membership cards, delivering the awkward news that someone’s account had lapsed, managing lost and found, and figuring things out when they went sideways.
By senior year, I was running the pro shop.
What I learned there had nothing to do with fitness.
It was everything about people.
How to make eye contact.
How to deal with someone who’s impatient, or demanding, or just having a terrible day.
How to show up when you don’t feel like it, because someone else is counting on you.
How to do things that feel small, but actually aren’t.
Today, it’s no secret that our kids have fewer and fewer chances to practice being human in that way.
They order food through apps.
They check out at self-checkout.
They can go entire days without talking to an adult outside of a classroom.
Everything is automated, delivered, or optional.
Or honestly, everything is done for them (spoiler alert: this is a short-term solution that will have long-term challenges).
A recent piece in TIME Magazine highlighted how many young people are struggling with basic communication. Not because they can’t do it, but because they’ve never really had to. This is not new news to you, I know.
It’s not their fault.
If they are able to do chores or work, it is ours as parents if we don’t give them opportunities to practice.
And at the same time, a phenomenon is unfolding as young people are craving structure. Meaning. Real experience that feels earned.
It makes sense, doesn’t it?
Because we’re heading into a world where personal connection is becoming more valuable, not less.
Job applications are easier than ever to submit. AI can make anyone look polished on paper.
But not everyone can hold a conversation, read a room, handle rejection, or stay steady when something gets uncomfortable
That’s what work teaches.
I can tell you within ten minutes of working with someone, whether in a job or even a volunteer setting, who had those early experiences.
They carry themselves differently.
They have a higher tolerance for people, anticipate an impending scenario and how to solve it, don’t crumble as easily, and don’t think they’re above small tasks.
That combination is becoming genuinely rare. And because it’s rare, it’s valuable.
This isn’t about burning kids out or filling every hour of their schedule, but rather about giving them a place to practice responsibility, humility, and resilience in real life, with real stakes, around real people.
It’s also never too early to start.
Begin with chores.
Give them responsibility that actually matters.
Let them be counted on.
And then, when they’re ready, give them a way to work, and support the businesses who are actually willing to take on teens these days…it is not easy to manage.
I’d love to hear about your first job, and as a parent, how things are the same or different.

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