Now the time has come. While I am working on the eleventh edition of the career choice booklet, my daughter Nora is starting to choose her career. Although she actually made her choice years ago. She wants to look after children in a nursery. My partner, who runs a playgroup with lunchtime supervision, is not entirely innocent in this.
My concern is that Nora is becoming too comfortable with the choice she has made, is not questioning it and runs the risk of experiencing a nasty surprise later on.
While other young people in the midst of puberty are still getting to know themselves and figuring out what they want to do, Nora is absolutely certain that she wants to become a care worker. School has long since ceased to be fun, friendships are complicated, and her parents annoy her, but the care worker apprenticeship is her light at the end of the tunnel.
My concern is that she is being too complacent with her choice, not questioning it and running the risk of a nasty surprise later on. What if everyday working life is not as idyllic as mornings spent looking after the neighbours' children or helping out at the playgroup?
More potential than expected
Independence was important to my partner and me from the very beginning. We encouraged our children to move around on their own within their growing radius, to make their own decisions and to take responsibility for their actions. Of course, we also had to deal with the consequences when things went wrong.
But in Year 8, it becomes clear that Nora is capable of organising herself, finding training companies and arranging work experience placements. Not as efficiently and not as carefully as we would do it, but she manages.
Now I am one of those fathers who hope that their child will make a choice that also satisfies the parents.
I am allowed to accompany Nora to an information event for childcare professions. About half of the young people are there without their parents. Although she is not a shy child, our daughter feels more comfortable this way, which gives me the good feeling that I am not yet completely superfluous.
Even more important to me are the learners who talk about their everyday lives as aspiring childcare professionals. The profession has more potential than I had realised during our children's nursery years.
Between leading the way and letting things happen
My partner and I have various personal contacts in the world of daycare centres and are familiar with both positive and negative examples. It would be easy to pave the way for Nora to join an institution with a good standard of training. But we want her to find her own training place. We point her towards daycare centres that we are convinced invest in their trainees, challenge them and encourage them.
It became clear years ago that grammar school was not an option for our daughter. We have no problem with that, even though we both went to university. However, we are convinced that she is capable of more than just meeting the requirements of the FaBe apprenticeship. We are therefore trying to encourage her to take the vocational baccalaureate.
However, we are also aware that there are countless further training opportunities, particularly in social professions, that do not require a school leaving certificate. I try not to comment on the fact that our 14-year-old daughter does not understand why she should continue her education after her apprenticeship. I don't always succeed in this.
Like many young people, Nora tends towards minimalism. Why make life difficult when it can be easier? Why spend a long time memorising school material so that it sticks in your mind when you can cram enough the day before the exam to get a 4.5?
Every now and then, she feels the urge to improve her grades in order to increase her chances of finding an apprenticeship. She even succeeds in doing so, but inconsistency, like mood swings, is part of her age.
Why do I need to learn this?
The signal box test shows that she meets the requirements of the FaBe apprenticeship. Her teachers also see her as a vocational baccalaureate student. However, I think she will have to work harder than she currently does. And I hope that her thirst for knowledge and her desire to learn more about the world will grow. Although she always asks herself what she will gain from each piece of learning content, I am convinced that it is always better to know more than less.
I wish Nora a start to her professional life in which she can utilise her strengths and be valued for them.
We argue about this from time to time. My conviction that the more she knows and the more skills she acquires, the more interesting her life will be, falls on deaf ears. This makes me realise one of her great strengths: she is strong-willed and stands up for her convictions. Slamming doors included.
A bigger challenge emerges when Nora is asked to try out different professions to show that she has also considered alternatives and that her desire to become a childcare worker is a conscious one. «What else should I try out?» she asks repeatedly. And she surprises us by organising a trial day for herself at our neighbour's flower shop.
The final decision we make together
Meanwhile, the summer holidays – Nora's last ones before she goes back to school – are only a few weeks away. After that, companies will start accepting applications. Does she have her schedule under control? Are there any information events she needs to attend in order to apply? Once again, my partner and I are torn between feeling satisfied that our daughter is largely organising herself and worrying that she might be missing something important.
Choosing a career is the last decision your child makes that you as a parent can really influence. I have written variations of this sentence repeatedly in the last ten editions of the career choice booklet. Now I am one of those fathers who hope that their child will make a choice that also convinces the parents. I wish Nora a start to her professional life in which she can use her strengths and be valued for them. If I see her on this path, it will feel better to let her go.
