Dancing Your Way to Hard Work by Gabriela

Dancing Your Way to Hard Work by Gabriela - October 2013 Scholarship Essay

I thought I was special, I believed that I must have done something right to be able to stay later than all the other students. My father would plug in his boom box in order to blast Brazilian music. Then rhythmically beat his hands on any surface at arms range. My mother and I danced around jumping from couch to couch pretending either of us knew how to samba. The school was uninhabited. Every single game, gadget and gizmo was at my disposal. I was queen of the school! I would curiously run up to the loft, which was the sixth graders stomping ground. I discovered that up there the couches plusher, the vista was preferable and spying capabilities were unparalleled. When I had my fill of sixth grade living I climbed down the ladder and ran towards the music. I often stumbled upon my father dancing with the vacuum cleaner, singing into the handle as if it were a microphone, as if he were a good singer. My mother was usually one step ahead of him dusting off the counter tops and cleaning.
Rivendell Elementary School was a small private elementary school in the San Francisco that awarded my family the opportunity to provide me with the best education by offering a work-study program; discounted tuition in exchange for cleaning the school a couple times a week. Once the school was spotless we all jumped in my father's taxicab. After he drove my mother and I home he would go finish the end of his shift. At that time my mother worked in a plastic surgery office as a LVN. The days my parents were not on cleaning duty at the school I would get dropped off at my mother's office. I grew up playing dress up in scrubs and hairnets. I use to stare at the before and after pictures proudly mounted on the walls in the hallway. The memories of my parents zealously working are abundant and diverse.
My favorite thing about being the eldest in a young family was witnessing the growth of my parents. My memories are bursting with recollections of my father night classes and him volunteering at software companies in order to attain needed experience. I have witnessed his exponential climb up the corporate ladder to a high rank in a multinational Swedish corporation.
The biggest life lessons I have learned were from watching my parents mature. The fact that I can recall my father’s taxicab baffles me and fills me with pride. They both independently migrated from a third world country at very young ages. Both worked any job they could get to keep our heads above water.
My parents continuously aimed for growth as professionals and as individuals. Through their actions I obtained a strong value of hard work, dedication and education. I feel lucky in knowing that hard work will always take you to the bright light at the end of the tunnel.
Upon discovery that the reason that I stayed later than my friends in elementary school was because my parents couldn’t afford full tuition I felt disappointed, maybe even embarrassed. Not only was I not the queen of the school, my parents couldn’t spare the price of it. It wasn’t until years later that I realized I was the most special of them all. I had parents that never gave up on their dreams. Parents that shaped me into the person that I am so proud of today. Their transformation permitted me to focus on my education and passions. Because of the lessons they taught me I am on road to acquiring my objective of finish my education with a Bachelors of Science in Nursing.