Last summer, my 16-year-old son entered into a Swiss program designed to help him find a career. It allowed him to spend one week in school, the next week doing a mini internship (Schnupperwoche), and then lather, rinse, repeat.
I’m pleased to announce he’s decided on a career path and accepted an apprenticeship offer to be a carpenter focusing on window building and construction.
When he entered the program, he only knew he didn’t want to be stuck behind a desk all day, like both his parents. I can’t say I blame him.
He tried forestry, which he loved and involved helicopter rides in Lauterbrunnen, but the only apprenticeships available for the upcoming school year were either in the French-speaking parts of Switzerland, which he didn’t want to do, or (horrors) locally. (He is itching to be independent and knows his parents won’t spring for an apartment if he can stay in his bedroom.)
He did surveying, which he thought he’d love but actually hated. He was so glad he didn’t do four years of school before discovering he hated the work. They loved him, though, offering him an apprenticeship.
With many other things under his belt, he confidently accepted the apprenticeship offer. It’s a four-year paid program, with four days of work and one day of school. The pay is low (year one is about $5 an hour, year four is a little more than twice as much), but that’s better than paying for education as he would in the US. When he’s done, he’ll be a master carpenter—a skill in high demand for decades, if not forever.
I’d post a picture of him in his new workspace, but that violates the teenage boy rules. Instead, this is the extent of the information I received about the helicopter ride until he got home. For those who don’t have one and are unaware, this is what teenage boys consider an excessive amount of information to their mothers.
