My Dad is my Boss

Growing up, I never had an actual job. In high school I would do small jobs such as mowing lawns or house sitting, but that was about it. My parents were always on my case, because they were tired of me asking them for money. Finally the summer before my freshman year of college, my dad came home and said that his work was hiring college age kids for temporary workers. It didn't sound like something I would want to do. It was nine hours a day on week days and five hours on Saturday. It was my last summer before college and I just wanted to hang out with my friends, but it paid well and I liked the idea of making my own money. So I filled out the application and started the next week.

It wasn't work, it was just long days in a hot factory. I did everything from opening paint cans to just sweeping the warehouse. One day, one of the managers told me that I would be learning how to drive a fork lift so I could begin to load and unload trailers. The idea of driving a fork lift sounded kind of fun actually, and I was kind of excited. I had to go through an information video and take a written test before I was actually able to learn how to drive it, and then I had to take a driving test too. It is actually very different driving a fork lift then it is driving a car, and it is kind of hard too. But I passed, and they wanted me to start unloading trailers that day. I was a little on edge because I had just learned, and was pretty nervous. I had to take my time because I didn't want to mess up, because if I did I would have to sit down with my dad, who was my boss. I began to unload the trailer and it was going to pretty smoothly for awhile, but sure enough I made a mistake. When I was unloading a barrel of paint, I didn't get both forks of the fork lift under the barrel, and when I began to lift it, the barrel fell and paint went every where.


 (Image from http://www.istockphoto.com/stock-photo-12386159-forklift.php?st=1ec502e )

I was so upset that it happened, and nervous at what would happen. I called one of the managers to tell them what happened, and they were just happy no one was hurt. I cleaned up the mess, and the manager wrote a report and sent it to my dad. My dad called me later that day to talk to me about the accident. He would up in a difficult situation. He has two roles, the role of being my father and the role of being my boss. This is called Role Conflict, which you can learn more about in the link below http://www.sociologyinfocus.com/2012/12/17/the-sick-role-conflict/ . My dad had to explain to me that he wasn't mad at a father, but as a boss because it was a loss of product that had to be reordered. As a father, he was glad I was okay. As a boss, he made me retake the classes again. I could tell in a way he was upset that it was me who made the mistake, because he didn't want to talk to his son. Luckily, he didn't have to fire me, just redo the classes. At home, his attitude didn't change. But at work, he would take more precautions like checking up on me more often, especially when I was back at driving a fork lift. This could be referred to as Role Strain which is the tension between his two roles of being my boss and my father. The definitions for both these terms can be found in this link, under Role Conflict and Role Strain http://highered.mcgraw-hill.com/sites/0072435569/student_view0/glossary.html .