There is a difference between an individual’s character and personality. A person may exude a particular vibe and express themselves in a particular way and that can be associated with “personality.” However, more than this “personality” we can see, their actions and decisions in specific circumstances more accurately define who they are as an individual, or in other words, show us their “character.” This most important detail, which I learned from both the lectures I received from my father and personal experience interacting with people, has helped me in choosing the people most important to me in life. More importantly, enhanced awareness of my own character development, and my tendency to place priority on maintaining a certain character has influenced many, if not most, of my decisions in life so far. This tendency has come from the influence of my father, who was not only a loving, caring parent, but also a role model to whom I hold immense gratitude. I would not be who I am today, standing where I am today, if it were not for his presence in my earlier life.

My father is a graphic designer, and most of the time, he is a busy man. At some point in my adolescence, my routinely, “goodnight,” to my parents was replaced by worry and curiosity, wondering when my father would be coming home from work and imagining how my mother felt to sleep in a now much bigger, emptier bed. When he was around, and his tall figure stood over me, often placing a hand of comfort on my head, tousling my hair, it would embarrass me, but secretly ease my worries. When he wasn’t working, he was sleeping off long hours of work. He spent most of his time in front of his computer screen, one project after another, drowning in emails and presentation slides. Before I realized how much time had passed, before I noticed the years pass, I noticed the lines of gray hair on his head. Still, his work ethic had not changed. This wasn’t an obsession with work; although I could recognize the passion he held towards his work, I knew it was the duty of caring for us, his family, that had pulled him through the long hours for so many years. I believe, despite the difficulties life had thrown him, he was able to endure them by the strength of his values, which includes placing importance on care towards his family. I had always seen my father as a strong person, and he made me want to become just as strong. This did not involve physical strength or authoritative power. This strength stemmed from a commitment to patience, and it branched out into core values I still hold priority in my life today.

These core values are especially prevalent when I find myself standing against a tough situation. I always confront it by first, reminding myself who I am, reminding myself of the values I hold important in my life. Using this perspective as a guide, I feel more prepared in maneuvering difficult, sometimes painful, situations. Having my values in mind helps me weigh my options, and I feel more satisfied with the decision I make. So follows, in these critical moments, I feel great gratitude towards my father, from whom these values originated. I believe he played the role similar to a sculptor, helping to shape the character developing in my younger years, because ultimately, these values, which lead my decisions and actions, define who I am today, and who I will be in the future.

As a child, I was too shy and hesitant to reach out to others, and consequently, I had difficulty making friends. As a way to cope, I enjoyed many hobbies, such as reading and sketching, to keep myself occupied, even if I was deemed an introvert. Unfortunately, I could not escape to my books during recess, as we were all forced to play in the playground outside. I remember spending my early days in elementary school leaning against the brick wall of the school building, not stepping too far out into the area, craving company while observing other children assemble into their own exclusive groups. Different groups of children took their places at specific parts of the wire fence that enclosed the playground. The boys who played dodgeball claimed most of the middle concrete area. Uncertain as to how to approach these other children, I stuck to the wall and feigned invisibility.

When I was about ten years old, I found friends in the Islamic saturday school my parents had placed me. Finally, a group that acknowledged me, and I often followed their every move. I had been given a place somewhere, and I thought it was necessary to do everything I could to keep it. I would offer my room for sleepovers, ask my parents for food to provide them, almost anything I could do to prove I deserved a place in their group. These particular friends were not always so keen on following the rules, even though all our parents placed strict expectations to follow the lifestyle of Islam. One day during Ramadan, one of the most significant holidays celebrated in Islam, where Muslims are expected to fast every day, my friends planned to go to the movies. Although children were not required to fast, it was not uncommon for children our age to fast for half a day, to become accustomed to the tradition.

The girls sat on the bunk beds in my bedroom, and nodded to each other in agreement, planning out the rest of the day. I had uneasy thoughts about their decision not to fast at all, but pulled by the inclination to please my new friends, I decided to follow suit. My guilt made my body antsy, and I could not sit still with them. I stood up to stand by the doorway, then to stand by my bookcase, pretending to skim through my books. When my father came by the open door, I could not say a word, and the girls shouted our plans excitedly from the room. My father said nothing, but from the way his facial expression changed, I recognized disapproval. Regret filled my chest the entire day, and eating popcorn at the movies did not outweigh this guilt in the slightest. My father spoke to me the next day, and instead of scolding me, he seemed to see through my quiet demeanor and pick up on the guilt I had been feeling. The words I remember from that day were, “It doesn’t matter what other people decide to do. You don’t have to follow them.” This was the first moment I remember an overwhelming respect towards my father. His words from that time would come to mind every time I confronted a situation of peer pressure, and ss if those words were a magic spell cast over me, they filled me with the strength to follow my own instincts, even at the fear of losing my friends. My father, and the consequent experiences of overcoming peer pressure, taught me there is little we can do when people decide to leave our lives, so more importantly we should do what we can to avoid losing ourselves.

After this experience, there were many days I spent alone with my father. Occasionally, my father asks me to go out, sometimes to watch a movie, sometimes to window shop at his favorite mall. Again, this emphasizes how much he values time spent with his family, as he is always willing to make time for us, despite his busy schedule. Obviously, we would not face each other in the car, as his eyes were focused on the road, but he would suddenly start his usual lecture. He’d pick a recent occurrence and use it as a transition to talk about an important value he hopes for me to hold, spewing anecdotes through the entire ride. I would place my chin in my hand and lean against the car window, facing the outside but not really looking. My vision was full of images of the childhood he described, or imaginary scenarios he would offer, and he somehow knew the right words to trigger a very specific set of emotions.

“Someday, I want to do more,” he would say to me, and even at my age now, tears would collect in my eyes, listening to the rest of his words. I think I couldn’t help but cry because I felt moved, because I felt powerless, because I felt his frustrations. He was working long days and late nights, and he still had room in his heart for such high ambitions. He would mention his dreams to build a charity, build a school, build a youth center for Muslims, and suddenly my world expanded. As I listened to him describe them to me in detail, my imagination was forced to expand farther to reach as far as his had, and I became inspired to look for my own dreams and ambitions, my own way to contribute to the world. My father claimed, according to Islam, “these types of deeds will reward you even after you die.”

The ideas poured into my head by my father sprouted into habits in my daily life. It became natural to me, for instance, to put a full effort into whatever I do, to avoid doing anything half-heartedly. If I notice something could be done better, my father’s voice would compel me to go that extra mile and do it better. Whether it was school work, or daily chores, or even social interactions, I had an active conscious that would never let me leave anything partially done without it settling into regret. I benefited greatly from this aspect of my developing character, and although many of my friends in my younger years did not relate, I was able to do well in school and maintain a healthy and clean lifestyle at home.

Some habits I developed from listening to my father also influenced the way I interacted with people. Being genuine and wholehearted was not limited to my school work or my chores. This could apply to the way I interacted with people in my life, and I learned when it comes to people, this particular aspect involved being tactful and sensitive to the feeling of others. Instead of throwing some sympathy on someone, actually climbing into their shows for a moment to empathize with them. I find myself more aware of the words I use, and the tone and attitude I express when I communicate with others. I find myself thinking of the most considerate way to phrase my thoughts. I remind myself to get into the habit of greeting people, even a simple “good morning” at work, or “have a good weekend” to classmates. Each moment of interaction, I would remember advice from my father, and when these moments accumulated, I found these actions I took had become habits, and the person I am today is partially built of these habits.

Similar habits, from listening to my father, has also affected the way I would interact with the physical environment around me. If I am faced with a situation where I can do something to help, even when it is something as simple as picking up fallen trash, I have been conditioned by my father to help, as regret always fills me when I don’t. In a way, caring for the environment is a way of caring for other people. Cleaning the table at the dining halls after I have finished eating, and straightening out the computer and keyboard after finishing work at the library, all affect the experience of the next person who sits down. On a much larger scale, taking care of our environment will ultimately affect the kind of environment my family and friends live in, and of course, my father who values his family more than anything, would care about doing what he could to keep our home safe and clean, so I have adopted the same value.

The values I have mentioned are not only for the appeal of my personal character, but have had significant impact on my career decisions. I have long since realized the people in my life are what I value most in this world, so I believe my decision to pursue a career in medicine derived from my personal hope to protect them. Holding the knowledge and access to resources that would protect their health, and additionally, the financial stability that would come from a job requiring higher education, and on top of that, combining purpose with my love of science, would all allow me to give the life I have to the people I love, and the people who need it. Furthermore, having resolved within myself that I would follow my father’s example and do more than just be pulled by the current, I was also able to develop my career goals with a sense of purpose, and a drive to fulfill the most important goal: to help the people in this world, and in doing so also protect the people I love most in my life. My interest in biology developed in my elementary school years, and naturally, being interested in the science involving people, I thought I would become a doctor to help people through a field I could also enjoy studying. Ambitions, fueled by purpose, will always be the motivation that pulls me through the long and difficult road to becoming successful in the field of medicine.