From a conversation with someone.
Her father grew up in the Depression. Got a Stanford degree and went straight to the Army Air Force in World War II.
Her insight: in those days, everyone worked hard, and few went to college. Fewer still went to top-tier schools. He father was a hard man, from life experience. (Bomber pilot, shot down three times. Poor family in the Depression.)
Every man in his generation was a hard man. Worked hard. Didn’t quit. A Stanford degree meant something in that environment.
Now, everyone goes to college. A top-tier degree means nothing. And hard work, hard men? Rare. I am included in the cohort of people who have overvalued a degree from the “right” schools. Fortunately, I have learned through personal misfortune the importance of hard work. Iam not, but I aspire to be, a hard man.
Hard times create strong men. Strong men create good times. Good times create weak men. And, weak men create hard times.
G. Michael Hopf, Those Who Remain (The New World #7)
Show me what you have done. Not what happened in your general neighborhood while you were standing around. Not a pretty piece of paper with your name on it. “I done this. I done good.” Show me that.
A postscript about fortune. My own personal misfortunes came from my own actions. I count these events to be of supreme value.
What doesn’t kill you will, if you learn the lessons, make you stronger. If you don’t learn the lessons, you will be a whiny victim for the rest of your life. Don’t do that.