Working with your hands, and living on them

Making a living in the trades

"No more holes to fill and no more rocks to break, And no more loading boxes on the trucks for someone else's sake" - Jason Isbell

A former boss of mine once told me he didn't believe you should have to own a business to make good money in the trades. I was working as a carpenter, and hopeful of a steady - if slow and unglamorous - rise in compensation. His statement struck me as a crux of employment woes within the blue collar community, ones I hadn't yet perceived at the time of our conversation. Something that should have been obvious and unnecessary to state ... wasn't.

I accepted my boss's perspective eagerly, and agreed. I was relieved to hear it, because many don't feel that way, and I had staked my future on that simple premise. But truly, I hadn't thought much to the contrary. I'd yet to encounter sufficient reason to doubt the viability of my career path, come bills, children and the unexpected. Though my progress had not come easily, I expected much more to come.

To my mind, tight-fisted and negligent business owners were the problem, refusing good workers their due. Or ignorance on my part was to blame, whereby I'd fail to know and convey my worth, thus being responsible for my paltry pay. Otherwise, I perceived few barriers along my path to making a family-raising wage. As a dutiful employee, comfortable following the orders and learning from respectable employers, I saw no reason for hurry or alarm in the first few years of my carpentry career. I was in it for the journey.

I knew my pay lagged behind many of my white-collar peers, with the absence of such things as benefits and so-called "culture" being other differentiators. But that could be attributed to many factors, I told myself. It is quite hard to compare the worth of "knowledge-work" and craftsmanship, as well as distinguishing the particular context and application. My simple mission was to advance in skill, with a hopeful faith I'd catch up, at least in relative terms.

In proportion to the value I was creating, I'd earn. I held this tightly, because the work I was doing would be quite physically-evident and tangible. My growth and investment would be obvious, meriting commensurate reward. Patience would yield all I needed.

However, bumping my head on a low pay-ceiling within the last couple years got my attention. At several job transitions, I requested more money than I was offered, but still accepted the new position with no pay increase; the experience felt worth the risk. These were similar roles, but at different-enough companies where the resources varied, as well as the prioritization of skills, creativity and passion. I learned that skills one employer will pay through the nose for may not cause another to even raise an eye in appreciation. Perhaps I've taken my talents to the wrong place a few times.

Regardless of the fact that shopping long enough will usually yield a deal, I felt it was my duty to make little fuss, work hard, and remain loyal, with the goal of being undeniable in the future. And that energy carried me far in personal growth. But I'm still uncertain if it has been the best approach financially.

At a certain point, patiently waiting for organic advancement and raises is not possible. Personal life continues to change, as does the market and economy. Working in a booming city has it's opportunities, but also demands. It's not cheap to live in desirable areas, even if you just feel like a bystander while your city transforms to suit the transplants and well-to-do. But regardless of location, staying stationary in a position can be dangerous, if there isn't a clear and active plan. This is especially true if you have large changes on the way, like I have as I write this; waiting on the birth of your first child will clarify what paycheck you are willing to accept.

Getting beyond the entry-level - and then intermediate - pay-grades, the prospect of owning a business seemed more enticing, as the gainfulness appeared unreachable by most other means. Coming up in carpentry, I bought the best tools I could afford, invested in classes and books, even eventually bought a truck. Early on, I stayed late after work, and watched instructional videos at the library after that to gain ground. I wanted to level up dearly, and make up for the years when I didn't know what I wanted to do.

When the novelty started to wear off slowly, and fewer tools remained to be bought, the question of long-term success became more pressing. By year 5, less of my paycheck was required to be reinvested into my craft, but more was needed to pay for the rest of life. The Covid pandemic added some hiccups to the journey, and provided some needed shake-ups which weren't immediately profitable (involving numerous pay-cuts), but advantageous for growth in skill and resilience. I, like many, am still settling down after that bumpy period.

Being hourly (an industry standard) is no sob-story, but for me it has had more drawbacks than advantages. Paid time-off being meager or non-existent, absence from work for any reason leaves a dent in the finances. Paying double to go on a vacation, or to go to therapy, is an all-too-frequent reminder of being tethered to the job, and having little margin to do anything else. Insurance? Maybe a stipend if you're fortunate. Staying healthy is paramount, but the support is often superficial. The physical toll is consistent, if not punishing. Having a spouse outside of the trades is often needed to prop-up the one on the inside.

It's true that larger trade outfits, while usually still small-businesses, do offer perks more in line with the wider working world, and occasionally come with salaries and robust benefit packages. These are more likely to be city or regional power-houses, with large, production-based output. But for every "cushy" carpentry position I've come across in my searches, five more appear that are bare-bones. That said, the smaller shops and firms tend to have more soul. But soul has yet to pay off my truck!

The preponderance of small businesses in the trades - so many of them one or two-person operations - perhaps should have tipped me off to the remunerative nature of owning your operation. Or at least indicated a broad, irrepressible desire to have more control over your work-destiny, whether ultimately successful or not. That desire has been stoked in me for years, but it still hasn't materialized into striking out on my own. The comfort and education of being a dedicated employee have been enough (sometimes just barely) to keep me pacified. Yet I ask more and more whether that dedication could go further under my own banner.

Historically, I've viewed business ownership mostly as servicing the needs of flexibility and authority, more than earning potential. Additionally, the choice of creating a business seemed to be driven as much by personality as anything else. So I subconsciously committed to a different path; aspirational, but with my hands fully on the tools, not managing others or a company. I wanted to focus - to the greatest degree possible - on the fine details.

Beginning to understand my path, I realized I'd need to get both more gritty and more reasonable to go the distance. More focus, less meandering. I'd also need unclouded judgement of my strengths and weakness. Even in my zeal for the craft at large, I would not be a good fit at every shop or with every crew (though I'm hearing many people say that they'll take attitude over experience any day). But in the zones where I could best excel, I should swing big and keep chiseling out my corner of the market.

Not especially desiring my own business theretofore, I hadn't thought of business ownership as the best ladder out of median wage earning. As I mentioned, I assumed the best work and I would find each other, and that I could eventually expect to raise children on a carpenter's paycheck. Many have before, and many still do.

Though I've seen friends and acquaintances find success starting their own enterprise, I haven't yet seen it as essential, but maybe that day is near. I've seen enough ventures flounder and fail to respect the risks, however, so I'm sober and not starry-eyed over the prospect. I've watched closely, being thankful many times that my name is not the one on the building. In particular, I've noticed that the skills of your particular craft, and those of business, are not the same. It's advantageous to have both, but the fact remains that the best craftsmen may not be the best business people. And to a large degree, that should be okay.

In my trade of carpentry, cheap labor is still abundant, as it is perhaps the trade with the lowest amount of credentials and training required (or expected). Anyone with a truck, some swagger, and a modicum of handiness floods the industry with labor. The barrier to entry being low, low pay is the default. If you want it otherwise, you'll have to be clever. Specialization is invaluable, and checking ill-fitting jobs off the list through trial and error is an acceptable way to figure out where you'll thrive. As I've learned it (in broad terms), there is either the generalist path toward management, or the niche and specialized path toward mastery.

I have met few masters, but many business owners. They certainly aren't mutually exclusive, but they don't often go together on a large scale; one usually suffers, sometimes both. This puts me on notice, and encourages extra savviness. To have a business, there will be sacrifices, and all concerns cannot be prioritized simultaneously. I'm still choosing which of mine need the most attention, providing the most longevity and benefit to my family. In pursuing growth at the crossroads of 30, my choices get harder. Passing up leadership opportunities because they'll take away from the technical growth should not mean passing up advancement, but that's sometimes the case. There is a time to pivot into management, but it shouldn't be because it's the only way to make more money.

As I assess my current situation, and where I hope to go, I can't help but taking notes from any owner I encounter. I've started evaluating such things as scheduling, pricing, process-efficiencies, instruction-flow, inventory, etc., as much as creating tight joints, tool techniques and design choices. The former aren't as stimulating to me, but I want the knowledge, which I may need to implement myself one day.

Business ownership is supposed to have perks commensurate with the risk and investment; and if you're clever, exponentially more. I may be there before I know it, but for now I'm seeking the small scalabilities, stretching myself to have an outsized influence on the work and companies I'm involved with. Looking for daily improvements, absorbing every tip lending speed and quality. I've found it advantageous to develop an owner's mindset, even as an employee or contract worker. I try on the various responsibilities, see how they feel on my shoulders, and think about how my day would be improved or impaired by that extra weight and latitude.

Working for someone else allows the employer to focus on the more enjoyable - or more profitable - aspects of their craft, smartly passing off the tedium to the employees. Delegation may be the central burden and privilege of being the boss; a double edged sword, especially for certain types of leaders. This movement upward is sometimes just graduating from one form of drudgery to another. Regardless, my current goal is to have vision from amid the tedium, neither getting too comfortable or too restless. That's hard! It's a delicate balance knowing when to embrace the steadiness, and when to give chase. Stability is useful, but so is motion. Amid that uncertainty, I'm getting well acquainted with the needs of a hungry, young employee, should I ever have one. I'm seeking to solve my own problems while simultaneously solving those of my boss and clients. And that is the best way I've found to summarize this leg of the journey. Forward!