Jayne Dowle: Jobs that work wonders for youngsters' prospects

Is this because such research doesn’t exist, or is it the case that the number of under-18s looking for such work is so insignificant that it simply isn’t worth bothering to investigate?

There’s a big cloud of “can’t be bothered” hanging over the whole issue. I have two children, a son who is 15 this month and a daughter approaching 12.

Lizzie, my daughter, is already champing at the bit. There’s a discount store in the town centre and it’s a rarity these days; this particular establishment employs youngsters stacking shelves and so on from the tender age of 14.

Lizzie has already calculated that in a couple of years, if she puts in around 10 hours a week on the shop floor, she could be on for making £200 a month, tax free. This is very attractive to my daughter, who likes to save her money and then have a splurge in Primark every few months.

I can see I have taught her well. Her brother, on the other hand, has been coming up with constant excuses to get out of looking for any kind of paid employment to supplement birthday and Christmas money and the occasional treat he receives for doing well at school.

My children have never had regular pocket money, because there hasn’t been the spare cash to commit half the time. Anything extra, they have to earn as a reward.

It was exactly the same when I was growing up. I wanted shoes and clothes and those quaint old-fashioned things called “records”, so when I was 13 I started delivering newspapers and also landed myself a job washing glasses with my friend in a working men’s club. I’m not sure the latter was ever strictly legal, but it was £6 a night, so we didn’t complain.

From then on my part-time career ascended to the dizzy heights of babysitting, serving in a butcher’s shop and a newsagent’s, towards the pinnacle, working in McDonald’s as a lobby hostess in the summer before I went to university.

I loved working as a teenager, if I’m honest. I liked the independence it gave me. Not only did I have my own money, I stood on my own two feet and dealt with buses, bosses and customers.

It helped me to develop my personality and taught me how to overcome problems without having to run to my parents to sort them out. My various roles also gave me something to put on my university application form and eventually, my CV, proving my potential usefulness to potential employers.

My prudent grandma made me “save half and spend half”, chivvying me off to the Post Office with my pound notes every week. By the time I left home, I had amassed more than £1,000 in my savings account, the most disposable cash I think I have ever had in one place in my life, to date.

Anyway, I’ll take off my rose-tinted glasses for a moment. Here’s a few of Jack’s excuses: “No-one takes on anyone under the age of 16, these days, you know.” It is legal to work from the age of 13 upwards, but I agree with him, to a point. There simply isn’t the same plethora of part-time jobs there once was.

When I was young, we simply asked around to see if any children needed looking after and turned up at the appointed time with a large bag of crisps and a copy of Just 17 magazine to pass the time. Babysitting seems far less common these days. There’s a lack of trust, and a lot of suspicion about teenagers misbehaving.

Or “it will interfere with my homework”. Given that my Jack rarely brings homework actually home as he fits it in during free periods at school, this argument doesn’t hold much credibility with his mother.

So, this summer holiday I’ve decided
to take him in hand. His very first 
job for money is mowing his grandparents’ lawn every week. When I first put this new opportunity to him, he looked pained and said his knee hurt. Football injury, you know. Then his back hurt. Growing pains? He is 6ft 1ins in his stockinged feet, so this is feasible, I suppose.

However, given that he is at least three inches taller than me and twice as strong, I would say that his physical ability entirely qualifies him for mowing a lawn. He did it. And he enjoyed it. He stood back and looked at his achievement and said he liked being able to take pride in his work. And his grandparents gave him a £5 note.

I was going to frame it, but Jack decided he wanted to go swimming with his friends, so his earnings paid for an enjoyable afternoon. Now that he has made the connection between working, earning and reward, I’m hoping that he gains the confidence to spread his wings a little further.

Today the front lawn, tomorrow stacking shelves? If it keeps him in haircuts, I’ll be packing him off with a box of sandwiches and a flask.