Sarah Morgan

Healthcare Geek.
Professional Communicator.


History of a Laborer

I love Labor Day weekend – not for itself, particularly, but because it kicks off my favorite time of year.

I love the fall. I love the way the air seems emptier, cleaner, sharper. I love apples and pumpkins and hay bales. I love new back-to-school notebooks and pens. I love when it’s still warm enough for t-shirts but not so hot that you burn your arms in the sun or your feet on the pavement.  I love the smells of leaf piles and fireplaces and pencil shavings and cider and sleeping with the windows open. I love, love, love the fall.

Labor Day was started by labor unions to honor workers, but the only workers who might get any honor this weekend are the ones selling charcoal briquettes and beer. It seemed like a good reason, though, to think about work, and the jobs I’ve had – because I believe one of the most important things any kid can do is work.

You become responsible to somebody who doesn’t love you.

You develop an identity outside your family.

You interact on an adult level.

You realize how much harder it is to make money come in than go out.

You become forevermore, on a different level, appreciative of every “menial” laborer whose work you did.

I’m grateful for every job I’ve ever had, even the awful ones. Here’s what I did before I “got a real job”. What about you? 


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