Work ethic is a belief that work and diligence have a moral benefit and an inherent ability, virtue or value to strengthen character and individual abilities. It is a set of values centered on importance of work and manifested by determination or desire to work hard.
The work ethic traits are: appearance, attendance, attitude, character, communication, cooperation, organizational skills, productivity, respect and teamwork
I remember walking by the card shop daily after school, and being drawn to the window display of one particular greeting card that was shiny and bright, colorful, large, as it promised to wish a special mom ‘Happy Mothers Day.’ I coveted it but did not have the money to take it home with me. One day I was inside the store with my father, and without him noticing I quickly swiped up the card, because you see I had to have it to give to my special mom for Mothers Day; I was certain that she would love it! I must have been about nine or ten years old and my character was taking shape. I refer to this as Character 101.
Living in Brooklyn, New York, during my teenage years (1980s), I experienced my share of teenage invincibility. I also felt that anything I aspired for was attainable, probably because of the upbringing of my parents. I was surrounded by endless skyscrapers and crowds of people everywhere I went, who walked fast and seemed to be drawn by a magnetic force that had them always in forward motion.
“It’s ah good ting Bustey went outside before it rained,” commented my Mom this morning, as the rained began pouring down while we prepared our breakfast. “Actually Mom, I saw that it will rain most of the day, so I took him out before it started, I planned it Ma.” A few minutes later, we saw one of our neighbor’s dogs being toileted in the rain. As we were having this exchange, I reflected on something similar.
Yesterday, as The Bustey and I took our usual walk through our neighborhood, in the sweltering heat of a mid-afternoon Summer, I observed one of my neighbors hopping across the street barefooted. She was being led by her miniature Yorkie who seemed intent on getting to his friend’s house to play. As I watched my neighbor return to her home alone, I suddenly had an epiphany, related to her simple act. And suddenly, I became melancholic, over what I once did myself, that is, before Assimilation!
“Ma, I remember when we use to stand at the bus stations in Brooklyn (New York) in that scorching heat or the freezing cold waiting for a bus, and when it arrived it couldn’t hold any more people, so then we had to wait until another arrived. Sometimes there was standing room only, and you might fit if you could push yourself past people as you stepped onto the bus and stand kinda balancing yourself in the aisle, and we would fall if it weren’t for the other bodies holding us up.”