How an ‘inherited’ work ethic shapes some workers
As a kid, I loved going to hospital.
No, I wasn’t a patient. My mother, a nurse who was working up to 60 hours a week at two hospitals in Los Angeles, would occasionally smuggle me into the ward where she was working a graveyard shift. She’d find me an empty room, where I’d stay up late watching TV and playing with the adjustable bed; in the morning I’d breakfast on single-serving cereal boxes my mum would bring from the cafeteria. These things were a treat.
It took me years to…