It is no surprise that Gen Z faces a structural unemployment challenge in Canada. Even at the height of summer hiring season, the unemployment rate for Canadians aged 15-24 sits at around 13 percent. This is a critical stage of life—when people should be building skills and forming the professional networks that will serve them throughout their careers. Instead, many in this generation are missing those opportunities because of a shortage of available jobs. Compounding this problem is another troubling trend: the rise of the NEET youth. 

What is a NEET? The acronym stands for a person Not in Education, Employment, or Training. When most of us picture a typical 20-something, we assume they are working full-time, combining part-time work with college or university studies, or enrolled in an apprenticeship. NEETs fall into none of those categories. Some may be between jobs for a short time, but Statistics Canada also follows a stricter measure known as NEETEST—Not in Education, Employment or Training, Excluding Short Transitions. These individuals have remained outside of work, school, and training since entering adulthood. According to data from Statistics Canada, 12.5% of youth aged 20-29 are classified as NEET, while 7.6% fall into the more persistent NEETEST category. In practical terms, that means one in ten young adults in Canada is currently disconnected from both the labour market and formal education or training. 

As a millennial, I won’t fall into the easy trap of dismissing younger generations as lazy. The job market for youth is genuinely difficult right now, and I understand the frustration of those who want to work, build skills, and start building a future. 

Still, the persistence of NEET status can be hard to grasp from another generation’s perspective. My own path into the workforce began early: at 12 I was picking corn for an hour a day, then moved to high-school jobs at roadside corn stands, Canadian Tire, and the bakery at the Real Canadian Superstore (where I still pride myself on recognizing a perfect French loaf). After graduating, I took what we called a “victory lap”—ostensibly to upgrade credits, though football played a part too. Uncertain about my next step but drawn to geography and seeing the world, I enrolled in a Tourism and Hospitality program at my local college. 

That experience alone opened doors I hadn’t anticipated. It’s the same opportunity I hope more young people, including those currently outside education and employment, will consider exploring today. 

Before sharing my own path through the industry, it’s worth taking a look at the scale of opportunity—and the persistent labour challenges—in hospitality and tourism. 

According to the Ontario Restaurant Hotel and Motel Association (ORHMA), the sector is expected to face a shortage of 88,000 unfilled hospitality and tourism jobs in Ontario by 2030. This is an industry that generates roughly $86 billion in provincial revenue and contributes 1.8 per cent of Canada’s total GDP. Even in 2026, restaurants, hotels, and tourism operations continue to struggle to find workers. Hotels Canada’s 2026 report found that 72 per cent of hotels have difficulty attracting local workers, while 58 per cent of hoteliers anticipate ongoing workforce shortages.  

The question almost asks itself: if an industry is actively seeking people and a generation of young adults is looking for work and skills, what is standing in the way? 

The barriers are both systemic and structural, and responsibility is shared. Young adults aged 20 to 29 bear some of it, of course. But equal attention should fall on parents—Gen X, Boomers, and yes, many millennial parents as well. 

Drawing on the research from Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt in The Coddling of the American Mind, and my own work on Arrested Educational Development, a pattern of overly protected parenting has left too many young people less equipped to navigate real-world challenges. Soft parenting has, in many cases, produced softer resilience. 

Yet parents and youth are not the only actors. Hoteliers and the broader hospitality industry also carry significant responsibility. In the numerous reports issued by provincial and national hotel associations that lament the “difficulty of hiring staff,” the proposed solutions often sound well-intentioned but rarely confront the core concerns of workers. Few emphasize competitive wage growth, meaningful collective bargaining, or clear pathways for career advancement. 

Entry-level work has long been characterized by low pay and precarious hours tied to fluctuating guest traffic. The climb from front-desk agent to general manager typically demands a 15- to 20-year commitment. Operators frequently point to the inherent volatility of the business—occupancy and demand can shift daily—as justification. The broader data, however, tell a different story. 

Between 2017 and 2025, Canadian hotel average daily rate (ADR) rose from roughly $157 to $216 per night, while revenue per available room (RevPAR) climbed from about $103 to $143 per night. Occupancy held steady near 66 per cent. In other words, hotels sold roughly the same number of rooms while increasing prices by 37-38 per cent—well ahead of the roughly 25 per cent rise in the Consumer Price Index (CPI) over the same period—without corresponding real wage gains for many frontline workers. 

Creating a more welcoming workplace is valuable. But sustainable recruitment will also require addressing the fundamentals: better pay and genuine opportunity for advancement. My own experience in hospitality offers a useful counterpoint to some of these challenges. 

While studying hospitality and tourism, I completed a co-op placement—an option that remains widely available in college hospitality and tourism programs today. That summer I worked in the Student Work Experience Program (SWEP) at the Fairmont Château Lake Louise. I still regard it as one of the best summers of my life. I flew into Calgary, took the shuttle into the mountains, spent a few hours walking around the lake and taking photos, then reported to human resources to collect the key to my staff room. 

Like many mountain resorts, the property provided staff accommodation. I shared a two-bedroom unit with three others: a summer student from New Zealand and two full-time bellmen in their early twenties. Bunking with a roommate was new to me after having my own room growing up, but it proved far less daunting than it first appeared. The arrangement turned into an unexpected highlight—good company, shared stories, and a ready-made social circle. 

The work itself was demanding—early starts, late finishes, overtime, weekends and holidays. Yet those long hours felt secondary to the people and the time off. We filled our free days with trips to the staff pub, canoeing on the lake, and the occasional borrowed car ride into Banff or Calgary, all set against the mountain backdrop of Lake Louise.  

Hospitality still carries a mixed reputation, and some of the criticism is fair: entry-level wages are often low, career progression can take years, and the old saying holds true—you work when most other people are off. Anyone expecting regular weekends and holidays at a luxury hotel will be disappointed. What compensates are the relationships formed, the practical skills developed, and the sense of contribution that comes with the job.  

For me, that summer at 19 was also the first real lesson in independent living. I learned to manage a modest budget, navigate shared housing, talk to strangers, ask for help, and handle everyday adult tasks. Booking a three-day trip to Calgary—hotel, deposit, restaurant reservation for myself and my roommates—felt like a small but meaningful milestone. In many ways the experience functioned as a low-stakes training ground: a place to make ordinary mistakes, learn from them, and practice the routines of adult life while earning a paycheque in an extraordinary setting. 

I returned to school with greater confidence and a clearer sense of control over my own life. I took on campus jobs, managed car payments, and continued travelling with friends—weekend trips to Toronto and a final-year spring-break trip to Cozumel, Mexico, planned with classmates.  

After graduation, the hospitality program again opened a door: a work placement at Walt Disney World in Florida. At 20 I arranged my own work visa, flew to the United States, moved into staff accommodation, and quickly built a network of colleagues. Those connections made it possible to rent cars and explore the Gulf Coast and Miami—experiences that further sharpened customer-service, communication, conflict-resolution and basic business skills.  

From Disney I moved to a bellman position in New Brunswick, driving myself from Ontario and gaining another layer of independence. I later returned west, this time to Banff, where I worked the front desk and was promoted to Rooms Supervisor within a year. That role led to my first management position at the front desk in Jasper, and eventually to a position at one of the country’s top golf courses. 

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I share this path not to hold it up as the only route, but to show that meaningful independence is possible at a young age—and that many people emerge from it stronger. One reason the NEET numbers remain stubbornly high, I believe, is that too many young adults have been conditioned to fear risk. Yet independence rarely arrives without some calculated leaps. Hospitality, at its best, offers a practical and relatively accessible way to take those leaps: a blend of real-world work experience and daily life skills that together help build both a résumé and a functioning adult. 

The drawbacks are real and should not be glossed over. The shifts can be unsociable—early mornings, late nights, weekends and holidays. In a busy resort town such as Banff, almost everyone is on the same schedule, which is precisely why Monday nights often become the unofficial weekend; the shared reality creates its own lively community. The career ladder can also feel long. Entry-level roles are frequently modestly paid, and progressing to meaningful management responsibility may take years. None of this is permanent, however. I worked in the industry for five years, then returned to school for a bachelor’s degree and later a master’s. Many others use hospitality as a launch pad rather than a lifelong destination. 

What stays with most people are the relationships formed and the places experienced. Those same skills—customer service, conflict resolution, time management, self-reliance—proved transferable when I later entered university. Arriving at 25 with several years of work and supervisory experience made me a more focused student and a better manager of my own time. College credits also transferred, allowing me to complete a four-year honours degree in three. 

For anyone currently outside education, employment or training who is reading this, the invitation is straightforward. Hospitality will not solve every structural problem in the labour market, nor will it erase the difficulties of the present moment. But it can provide a concrete next step: a chance to earn money, meet people, live independently, and practise the ordinary skills of adult life in an environment that is rarely dull. The question worth sitting with is simple— is the life you are living right now the one you actually want? If the answer is no, the doors of hotels, resorts, restaurants and tourism operations remain open. Walking through one of them has helped many people before you begin to write a different chapter. 

For a practical way forward, no single group can solve the NEET challenge alone. Meaningful progress requires effort from young people themselves, from parents, and from the hospitality industry. Here are concrete steps each can take. 

For NEETs and young adults currently outside education, employment or training 

  1. Take a calculated risk this month: apply for a college hospitality program, once enrolled, attempt an entry-level hospitality role, a college co-op, or a seasonal position at a resort, restaurant, or hotel—even if it feels imperfect or temporary. 
  1. Treat the first job as training for adult life rather than a permanent destination. Focus on building punctuality, customer-service skills, budgeting, and the ability to live with others. 
  1. Accept that early shifts, weekends and modest pay are common starting points; view them as short-term trade-offs for independence and experience. 
  1. Use the networks you form at work to open the next door—whether that is a promotion, a transfer to another property, or a return to school with clearer direction. 
  1. Ask yourself regularly: is the life I am living right now the one I actually want? If the answer is no, take one concrete step toward changing it. 

For parents 

  1. Gradually step back from solving everyday problems for your adult children so they can practise decision-making and resilience. 
  1. Encourage (and financially support, if needed) real-world experiences such as a first job, a co-op, or a season working away from home rather than indefinite time at home without structure. 
  1. Talk openly about the value of imperfect early work—long hours, modest pay, shared accommodation—as normal stages of growing up, not failures. 
  1. Resist the urge to shield young adults from every disappointment; controlled setbacks are how independence and confidence are built. 
  1. Model and discuss the difference between support and over-protection. 

For hospitality employers 

  1. Make entry-level wages more competitive and transparent so the sector can attract and retain motivated young workers. 
  1. Create clearer, faster pathways from front-line roles to supervisory and management positions, with visible milestones and training support. 
  1. Improve scheduling predictability and consider modest quality-of-life measures (staff transport, better accommodation standards, or weekday social programming in resort towns) that matter to younger employees. 
  1. Partner more actively with colleges on co-op and internship pipelines, and promote these opportunities directly to NEET and under-employed youth in Canada. 
  1. Shift the public conversation from simply “we can’t find staff” to concrete improvements in pay, progression and workplace culture that make hospitality a genuine first-choice option. 

Small, consistent actions by each group can begin to close the gap between young people looking for purpose and an industry that needs them. The doors are open; walking through them is the next step.

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