Work Ethic by Elizabeth

Work Ethic by Elizabeth - October 2019 Scholarship Essay

Academically, I am most inspired by my mother. Not only has she taught me well, she embodies her teachings in every aspect of her life. I was not taught these lessons with academics specifically in mind, but with the entirety of my life. I was taught a work ethic. A core lesson to live my life by. To give one hundred percent, because if I left it all out there I could always be happy with the result, for I would know it was my best.
This was no easy lesson to teach I am sure. I slipped, I stumbled, and I grumbled. However I was always held accountable. I was never allowed to back out or shirk around. I was pushed to my limits and I surprised myself with what I could do and achieve. I was taught to never assume talents and gifts as facts, for if I did I could never rise higher than I was, I could never reach my full potential.
One memory remains stark in my mind. It was early on in my education, eighth grade if my memory serves to be correct. It was a math class, algebra one. It was also the first class where I didn’t understand the subject. I ended up blaming the teacher, griping about her teaching style to my mom. She waited patiently through my rant, and said nothing for a short while after I was done. I remember the setting exactly. She was sitting in an armchair in the living room. A big cushy thing placed directly to the side of the sliding glass door, the one that led to the back patio. Her legs were crossed, hands palm down in her lap. She was leaning back, her head inclined towards the glass door, looking outside into the neighboring trees. She said nothing for a short while, and that had my attention faster than anything she could have said. She faced me, shifting a bit in her seat. She leveled me with a look rarely ever seen from her. “And what have you done about it?” she said. “Have you gone in after school, found other sources, have you tried?” There was more to that conversation, but when she quietly got up and went to the kitchen, I sat in the chair she had occupied until then. I thought, and I came up with a list.
I wrote my list on the notepad that was out on the kitchen island. My list consisted of what I was going to do to fix the problem I was having. I asked her to check me on it, asked her to hold me accountable once again, and I apologized. I completed my list, and I followed it for the year. I finished second in the class. This was a lesson I have applied to my academics ever since. If I do not understand, I find another avenue. And if I have applied myself to furthest degree, than I know I can be content with my work. I thank my mom for that lesson every day.