A bit of a rant

I’ve just been chatting to Gemma on the phone. She’s sitting on a train after attending an information session, followed by a long interview, with a company that she’s hoping to secure a job with for the summer months. She had a very early rise, followed by a 6 hour train journey from Leuchars to Leicester, and she’s on her 7 hour journey home now. (There is a reason for me telling you all of this – bear with me!) Gemma’s doing everything she can to give herself the best possible chance of securing a decent job when she graduates in the summer of 2013. So, she attends conferences, lectures, information days and evenings to learn as much as she possibly can about such things as presentation skills, interview techniques, the changing employment market, and all that kind of stuff. She also does her best to gain the essential work experience that most employers now demand; she’s been all over the country to insight sessions that she’s either been selected for through lengthy application processes or has won a place on. She has two part time jobs (for the money as well as the experience) on top of her course work and, of course, a happy, busy social life.

Now, getting to the point at last, I was pretty angry when I read, in a copy of ‘The Week’ this morning, that some high falutin Tory fundraising club recently auctioned off, for thousands of pounds, internships and insight weeks  to wealthy parents so that their student off-spring could gain that valuable work experience from prestigious companies. So, as ‘The Week’ puts it, “what’s the going rate for a leg-up?”. Well, a one week internship at one of the big banks went for £3,500;  a two week insight at a well-known magazine headquarters went for £4,000; one week at a famous PR firm went for £2,000.   And so the list went on.

What an interesting conversation it would be if Gemma came across one such lucky son or daughter when she’s on her, hard-fought for, internship with JP Morgan this April:

Son of the wealthy auction bidder: “So what did it cost you to come here?”

Gemma: “Hard bloody work, part-time jobs to help fund the travelling, endless application forms and psychometric tests, late nights, long train journeys, interviews, catching up with coursework and the gift of a new suit from my mum. What did it cost you?”

Son of the wealthy auction bidder: “Nothing. But it did cost my Dad £4000. So, can you give me some tips on how to work as part of a team – I never had to learn anything about that you see....”

Bah, humbug. It makes me mad. But, at the same time, it makes me extremely proud of Gemma, who’s going to get wherever she’s going through her own hard work, motivation and perseverance - along with all the encouragement, reassurance, advice, support and cuddles that her mum and dad can muster! We're not in a position to buy a leg-up for Gemma, but even if we were, I like to think we'd choose not to. Allowing your children to gradually find and fund their own way allows them the freedom to be their own person - with no obligation to their parents. 

There, rant over – now I feel good again!