This I Believe

Ketchup and the Value of Hard Work

I believe in the value of hard work. Writing well is hard work. Too often, students believe they are poor writers and writing is too hard. The self-doubt creeps in, and the word “can’t” rears its ugly head. When this happens, I remind students that anything worthwhile is difficult. Let’s get past this fear. Write. Just write, I say. Write until something comes, because it will. Something always comes. It might not be easy, and that’s ok.

Working hard was instilled early on in my life. Being the youngest of eight, with a double generation gap between my parents and me, I saw on a daily basis what most of my peers only saw when they went to their grandparents’ house, a depression-era mentality of hard work and never wasting. Owning a grocery store, we were never in need of food, but the two expectations of hard work and never wasting were always at the forefront. I often talk about my dad in class, and I love the story of my dad and his ketchup. If you were to ask one of my siblings about it, I’m sure they would laugh about his years in the nursing home putting ketchup on everything. We had to order ketchup by the case! I, though, think of a much earlier and more meaningful time. Dad, a man of few words, always leading by example, often showed the importance hard work in unusual ways. For example, when it was time for a new bottle of ketchup, my dad would put a little water in the bottom, stir it up and put the ketchup/water mixture into the next bottle. I knew there was another bottle, and I knew we were not poor, so why? Because we were told time and again that wasting food was a sin, but really because my dad worked very hard, seven days a week as a matter of fact, to buy that bottle of ketchup, along with everything else we were lucky enough to have.

This strong work ethic certainly didn’t go unnoticed. Since the age of 14, I have always had one or more jobs; it was just what we did. We kids had no choice but to work at the grocery store. We sacrificed football games and parties, and I grew significantly because of it. Despite not always being happy at the time, I thank my parents for instilling this tenet of hard work in all eight of us. To this day, I work extremely hard, two jobs, juggling many hats, fulfilling my family’s needs. Like when I was younger, I am not always happy about how hard I have to work, but I certainly understand the importance.

Hard work gives material things value. Hard work gives us pride. Hard work leads to security and safety in our lives, and this is what I try to model to my children and students, like my dad did for me. Things that are worthwhile may be difficult. Writing and revising well are hard work. Hard work helps us grow. Hard work matters. Write. Something will come, and who knows, it might be good. Will it be hard? Maybe, and that’s ok.

This I believe.