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Jillian Harris on the summer she spent endlessly holding a sign

jillian-harris-vw0826
jillian-harris-vw0826

Before Jillian Harris was on reality television asking homeowners if they’d love it or list it, she was an indecisive 19-year-old trying to decide if she should go to college. Much to her parents’ chagrin, she made a strange choice nobody saw coming. In the last edition of this year’s summer jobs series, the designer and self-made entrepreneur — and new chief creative director of The Jillian Harris Brand House — tells us about her summer spent holding a sign. Seriously. As told to Rosemary Counter.

Over the years, I’ve been a dishwasher, bartender, hairdresser, beer cart girl at a golf course. You name it, I’ve done it. Ever since I was a little girl, actually, I was kinda a little workaholic. My parents assumed when I graduated that of course I’d go to university. That absolutely was the plan: I was going to study to be a French immersion teacher and my parents were so proud.

Then I met this group of guys. They took me under their wing, taught me to do whisky shots and how to shoot a gun, and they were the ones who said, “You shouldn’t go to school, you should come with us to the oil rigs up north.” I didn’t have to apply or interview, no way. And I’d be the only girl for like a hundred miles which sounded like a lot of fun. So I broke the news to my parents and it completely broke their hearts. I like to think I’ve made up for it now.

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We drove four hours north and stayed there for a month at a time. My shift started at 6 a.m., when they’d give me my flag, which was just a sign that said “stop” and “go” on either side, plus a radio and my lunch. And a chair if I needed to sit. The job was to stay there, all day, in the middle of actual nowhere in northern Alberta, a hundred miles from any town, and hold the flag.

As you can imagine, almost no vehicles came through, so for an (entire) shift, I just waited there with my stop-and-go sign. I remember looking around, singing Nitty Gritty Dirt Band to myself. But I wasn’t bored because being bored wasn’t such a thing then; this was 1998, so we didn’t have cell phones or technology or social media. Now I’d do anything for someone to plop me in the middle of nature without a phone. I’d pay a lot for that.

What I would encounter, and this happened like every 30 minutes, was a moose or a bear or something in the distance that might kill me. They gave me a little radio, so if I saw a bear, I’d radio in. Come help me! There’s a mother bear with cubs!

I’d finish at 6 p.m. and head back to camp. We’d play old video games, watch movies, play cards. Even though I was the only girl around, and you might think there must have been at least some canoodling going, there really wasn’t. I was more like a little sister.

I think I made like $18 an hour or something, which felt like a lot. I came home after the first month with five grand in my pocket, and I felt like I was just rolling in it. I was so excited about it that I got in my truck, was about to pick up my girlfriends to go out for a celebratory lunch, but I wasn’t paying attention and I rear ended the guy in front of me. Guess what it cost to get my truck fixed? Five grand.

Holding the flag was a terrible job but also a really good one. I always tell my kids now that every single job is important. No job is above or below you, and even though you’re capable of anything, there are still moments where you’ll be the dishwasher or the flagger or the toilet scrubber. Even if you have a TV show. Don’t be huffy about it because we’d all be nowhere without these workers.

I learned something from every job I’ve ever done, but I think being a construction flagger taught me never to say, “That’s not in my job description so I’m not doing it.” I’ve asked people on my team to change diapers or do some dishes real quick. I’m always looking for people who’ll do whatever it takes to get the job done.

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