The Stigma Behind Two Jobs by Alexandra

The Stigma Behind Two Jobs by Alexandra - October 2021 Scholarship Essay

A consistent tapping noise filled the room as my father’s fingers pressed down each key. With each new motion another letter would appear on the screen and another email would be filled up to be sent. I gazed over at my dad who was hard at work. He had been sitting at our computer for the last six hours stressing about potential clients and if everything was running smoothly. Though he was coming down the home stretch with only two hours to go, I knew his workday was nowhere near over. At six o’clock sharp he would stand up, go grab a bite from the dinner that my mom made, and head out the door to his second job. It was the same routine every weekday and he received no rest on the weekends either. The poor man must have been exhausted.
I flipped the page of my magazine over as the sounds of my dad’s car left our driveway. There in so many bright colors was Michelle Obama, the former First Lady and one of my role models. She was pictured smiling with her new book that was out called Becoming. When I looked at her I could feel the warmth of her soul through the pages. It reminded me of one of her quotes that I had heard a few years back, “how hard you work matters more than how much you make,” and I immediately pictured my father. I felt a renewed sense of appreciation for the man that was putting food on the table and a roof over my head. As I stared into the darkness of our quiet street, I just imagined seeing my dad’s car once more returning with his bright headlights cutting through the black abyss.
While my family was middle class, we weren’t exactly comfortable. My friends were all pretty rich and most of the kids at school were too. But my family was working off of one income, and though this was a good amount of money, it was still necessary for my father to take on a second job. I remember being ashamed. Not of my father for having to do what was needed, but for some reason telling others that he was at his second job was taboo.
But as I looked at that window and awaited his return, I remembered Michelle Obama’s wise words. I knew that my father was the most hardworking man that I had ever met and that no matter what he was trying his best. It wasn’t important that I didn’t get the newest iPhone the second it was released or that I would have to buy my own car if I wanted it. What mattered was that my dad was just that, my dad. He was the true essence of a hardworking American that Michelle Obama sought to recognize. And if she could see the good in those who worked hard, I could too.