From the time I was old enough to (46) chores in my house, I knew what my mother expected (47) me. Homework (48) on time. People were treated fairly. Excuses were better left (49). And I would be a teacher when I grew up.
Three generations of people in my family were teachers. That was (50) we did. I heard stories of the students my grandmother had taught, the school she was in, the nights she was up with homework to correct. I heard (51) tables about my mother. As she grew ever more goddess-like in my mind, so (52) the force of the expectation that I would follow in the family tradition.
On my birthdays, my mother would give so many good books. And so the vision of my (53) career was engraved in my imagination.
But as college neared, I began to feel that becoming a teacher was not engraved upon my heart. (54), there is the difference between knowing the path (55) walking the path. What troubled me most was my fear that I wasn't the daughter my mother imagined.