Work

Earlier today I was accused by my wonderful father of having no work ethic. I'm a sheltered suburban kid, of course my work ethic isn't going to be great in regards to physical labor and paying off a mortage or anything like that. I've never known what it feels like to be truly starving except on an unfortunate misadventure in Cozumel, and that hardly counts (12 hours people, not all that tragic.) I'm lucky, I know that. And on my better days with God, I thank Him.

But that's not the point.

I am privileged, I've never had to worry about losing the house or my brother being shot by a rival gang.

But don't you dare tell me I don't have a work ethic. Yeah, it's not physical labor or risking my life, or even working at McDonald's. But academically, I am capable of working my ass off, thank you very much.

No one put the ambitions in my head but me. And don't you dare try to tell me I can't work hard. Lazy is living off welfare when you can work and settling for poverty. Lazy is graduating with all Ds because you never tried (not due to low intelligence.) Lazy is sitting on your butt and watching your kids go hungry.

I have it easy. I'm not fighting the odds. Statistics say that since both my parents went to college, there's a good chance I'll graduate too. I'm not doomed to a life of poverty or trying to save myself.

But that doesn't mean that I don't try and help myself. I'm not coasting here. Some of it is luck, some environmental factors, but at the end of the day, it's me making myself actually do it.

When I'm still up way past midnight getting this make up work done, I hope I remember this. I have a work ethic, at least I think I do. I just need to prove it to myself.