Street Art

Image by Dean Moriarty from Pixabay

Juan Sanchez was the best street artist in Brooklyn. Hell, he was the best in the whole damned state. But what he really wanted was to go to art college. He had to work after school and weekends. His schoolwork suffered, so he didn’t have the grades for a scholarship. And no scholarship meant no college.

As he slouched through the days leading up to graduation, he saw only one future looming. With no prospects and his mom struggling to support the three boys she had been left to raise after his dad had died, he was going to have to give in and take the factory job where his uncle worked.

“You can’t do it,” Rita said, sitting across from him in the school cafeteria. “You’re too talented. Please, just give it a few more days. Something will come up. I’m sure of it.”

Juan couldn’t tell his girl no. Not when she was looking at him with such faith in his future. A few more days wouldn’t make any difference. “Okay, I’ll wait. But I don’t see what difference it will make.”

He walked Rita home before heading across the street to his own house. Dad’s insurance had paid it off, so at least his mom hadn’t lost that. As he stepped through the front door, Mom called out, “You have mail. It’s on the entryway table.”

Juan never got mail. Who would be writing him? He kicked his shoes off, then reached for the envelope sitting on the table. His hand froze, hovering above it. The return address was Yale admissions. He hadn’t applied there. He hadn’t applied anywhere.

He picked up the envelope and walked into the kitchen where his mom was preparing dinner.  She turned to look at him as he let it fall onto the table before dropping into his usual chair. He stared at the envelope, confused and upset. Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke?

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Mom asked.

“No,” Juan answered. “It has to be a mistake. I didn’t apply.”

“You open it, or I will.” Mom looked at least as anxious as Juan felt.

Clenching his jaw against the tightness in his throat, Juan picked up the envelope, turning it over and over in his hands, as if doing so would make it give up its secrets. Finally, he tore it open. It contained a single piece of paper.

Mom read over his shoulder. As Juan took in the words on the page, he began to shake.

Dear Juan,

When Rita Martinez sent in your application, along with dozens of photographs of your street art, the admissions committee nearly discarded it without considering it. However, curiosity got the better of me and I decided to flip through the pictures. I’m glad I did. You have a remarkable talent.

Ms. Martinez also included a letter, detailing your family’s financial situation, following your father’s death. In light of this, the admissions committee will be offering you a full scholarship to Yale, covering all expenses. The formal offer will arrive under separate cover.

It was signed by the Fine Arts dean, herself.

Juan read the letter three times, expecting it to say something different, but the words didn’t change. Excitement turned to despair. “I can’t take this, Mom.”

“You can and you will.”

“But the family…”

“Will be fine. We’ll rent out your room while you’re away. “

Hope blew in with the breeze through the window. College. He was going to college! Juan bolted from his chair, hugged his mother, and ran across the street to thank Rita.

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I came across the image for this story while browsing Pixabay. Immediately, the first line came to me. The rest of the story came together as I recalled an episode of Glee I recently watched (Glee is my go to when I don’t have the brain power to follow something new). The storyline has Mike Chang not applying to colleges for dance because his father wants him to go to medical school. When his father relents, Mike is devastated at having missed the application deadline. That’s when his girlfriend, Tina, reveals that she sent in his applications, just in case.

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