A class project is a starting point.
“My cousin can do it. He took web design in high school.”
He might be talented. He might enjoy the work. Everybody starts somewhere, and a class is a perfectly reasonable place to start. It is also a very small amount of information on which to base a business decision.
A course can introduce someone to building pages. Before hiring them, you still need to know whether they can understand your offer, organize the content, build the customer journey, check the finished work, and hand it over properly. The certificate doesn’t answer those questions. Neither does the family connection.
If this is a practice project with limited consequences, make that clear. If customers will depend on it to find you, contact you, or buy from you, treat it like work your business depends on.
Your customers aren’t grading the assignment.
A classroom brief has an endpoint. A business website has people arriving with questions and very little interest in how hard anyone tried.
They need to understand what you offer, whether it fits their situation, and what to do next. The form needs to reach the right person. The buying process needs to make sense. Someone needs to check what happens on a phone, with a keyboard, and when information is missing or incorrect.
Your cousin may be able to do that work. Ask to see it. A finished page is evidence that someone can finish a page. A walkthrough of an inquiry or purchase, including what happens afterward, tells you more.
“I’m good with computers” is a broad qualification. So is “I own a toolbox.” You would probably ask a follow-up question before handing either person the keys.
A favor makes ordinary feedback awkward.
When someone is doing you a favor, it can feel unreasonable to ask for another revision, question a decision, or insist on the date you agreed. They may feel equally uncomfortable explaining that your latest request is additional work.
That is how a simple arrangement becomes a vague promise with a login screen. You think the website includes the copy. They think you are writing it. You expect updates. They thought they were helping for one weekend.
Define the pages, responsibilities, review points, timing, and cost before work begins, even if the cost is zero. Put changes through an agreed process. Give each other permission to say when something is outside the arrangement.
Thanksgiving is a terrible project-management system. Have the conversation while it is still easy.
The favor needs an ending. The website needs an owner.
Eventually your cousin gets busy. A new job, exams, another project, or simply a life that no longer has room for your website. That is normal. Your business still needs to change its opening hours.
Before launch, confirm that your business controls the domain, hosting or platform account, and any connected services it needs. Know where the content lives, how to make routine changes, and who handles support. Keep the handover information somewhere the business can access.
Agree on what happens after the initial work. Is maintenance included? For how long? What happens when a form stops delivering messages? Who can take over if the original builder is unavailable?
These questions apply to an agency, a freelancer, and a relative. A professional-looking proposal is not a substitute for clear answers either.
Saving money is sensible. Leaving work unaccounted for isn’t.
A small budget is a real constraint. It deserves a practical response, not a lecture about how serious businesses always spend more.
But include the work you will have to do yourself: writing the content, coordinating revisions, checking the site, chasing unfinished tasks, and arranging support. If those jobs are yours, plan time for them. If nobody owns them, the low price is hiding an unfinished scope.
You can reduce the risk by reducing the project. Launch a smaller site with a clear offer and one useful next step. Pay for a focused review of the plan or the finished build. Bring in experienced help for the parts the builder cannot confidently handle.
A beginner can contribute to a well-defined project. The problem is making your business the testing ground for responsibilities nobody has discussed.
Hire the capability. Keep the family relationship.
Ask your cousin the same questions you would ask anyone else: Can you show relevant work? Explain your decisions? Define what is included? Test the important journeys? Document the handover? Tell me where you need help?
If they can answer well, they may be a reasonable choice. Being related to you should neither qualify nor disqualify them. If the entire pitch is that they took a class and will do it cheaply, you don’t yet have enough to go on.
Choose someone whose ability and availability fit the job. Make the expectations clear enough that you can discuss the work honestly and change the arrangement if it isn’t working.
You can support your cousin without making them responsible for your storefront. And you can hire help without turning a website project into a family referendum.
Put the thinking to work
Write down the arrangement.
List what will be delivered, who supplies the content, when you will review the work, who controls the accounts, and who handles support. Ask your proposed builder to fill in the gaps with you before the project begins.
See what a clear process looks like
Written by
Dan Reed
Founder of Multicomma. I design and build websites, ecommerce experiences, and custom tools, with a focus on what the business needs them to do.
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