It’s not just me imagining it, work experience is becoming more rarefied. According to the Institute of Student Employers (ISE), internships and placements dropped by 1 per cent last year. Despite Labour’s election manifesto pledge to ‘guarantee two weeks of work experience’ to every young person, analysis from The Key Group shows this is a reality for less than half 14-15-year-olds. In fact, less than two per cent of pupils did a fortnight in a place of work.
Aware of their broken promises, the Department for Work and Pensions (DWP) recently announced the creation of 300,000 opportunities for work experience for young people, thus ‘helping them onto the career ladder’.
Back in 1996 all we had to do was ring around a few family and friends to fix my two-week summer work experience conundrum. Fast forward 30 years and I don’t dare tell my 16-year-old daughter that I managed to secure endless work experience when I was her age. Trying to replicate the same rite of passage for her is like herding stray cats.
After emailing every contact under the sun, I finally managed to get my daughter some work experience after her GCSEs this summer. In an age when less of us work in offices and red tape abounds, it was no surprise that it took a whole 11 months to finally tie down a placement for her, at a bridal magazine near Southend, no less.
When I was 16, we called a family friend who worked for a cable TV company and asked him if I could tag along for the week. I had visions of flouncing around in outfits Cher would have worn in Clueless, making lots of tea and coffee and doing reams of photocopying.
If only that had been true. On my first day I was ushered into none other than the Playboy channel room where I spent the first day cutting out pictures of a topless Kathy Lloyd on page three of the Sun. Since this ‘work experience’ took place before the mobile phone, I waited until I was back home with my Labrador by my side before I told my family. Had she known, my grandmother would have boarded the next train from Stroud and steamed straight into the director’s (who bore more than a passing resemblance to Tony Baddingham from Rivals) office and given him a piece of her mind.
Instead, she was blissfully unaware of my introduction to the world of work which also involved boarding a train to Kent with the head of HR whereupon we arrived with the sole task of firing great swathes of people. The head of HR and I were so depressed on the way home, I distinctly remember her buying most of the chocolate from the vending machine at the train station.
After Playboy I worked for another family friend who was a picture restorer. Sensibly he didn’t allow me anywhere near the valuable art, so I manned the phones instead. Unfortunately, the temptation to organise my social life became too great and on day two my boss for the week had given up asking me to take messages for him. At this point I was essentially working for myself. My boss generously overlooked my preoccupation with parties and socialising and gave me a glowing reference saying that I would ‘go far in life’ and that I had ‘an excellent telephone manner’.
I worked for a family friend who was a picture restorer. Sensibly, he didn’t allow me anywhere near the valuable art
So what are the obstacles to offering young people these vital life lessons? Writing in Further Education Week John Yarham says, ‘Our poll of 750 business leaders helps illuminate why the gaps remain. Employers are committed to offering work experience, but many face barriers: 36 per cent find it too time-consuming, 35 per cent believe they lack suitable tasks, 34 per cent are worried about safeguarding, and 22 per cent don’t feel equipped with a clear structure.’ Imagine, as a boss, having to ensure no one is kept in a confined space or feels uncomfortable. Does this not add yet another layer of stress to the employer?
A few decades ago, work experience could even be secured abroad if you knew the right people. During my year abroad from Edinburgh University where I read Modern Languages, I did some work experience which would give Emily in Paris a run for her money. I remember being woefully castigated by my Parisian boss for failing to write everyone’s correct title on their placement for a white tie ball. Seigneur and Dame apparently didn’t have the same ring to it as ‘Lord and Lady’ (I do see her point) not to mention seating two people next to each other who had a long standing disagreement resulting in both stalking off in a huff during the first course. It was at that point that I realised that a career in event planning did not beckon, something that I’m sure my family could confirm.
I also knew that I could cross off HR and secretarial work off my future career options, but it was only thanks to older people tolerating me tagging along for the week that I managed to arrive at this conclusion. Sadly, my children may never arrive at these hard-won conclusions.
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