Sunday Newscape Magazine

Those who follow my work know my rough talent in writing. My work comes from the heart and I have never been afraid to poke at issues that most writers would not even dare to speak of. Perhaps you can call it a rouge mentality, but in reality, I’m just being myself.

Prior to last weeks column I spent the most part of three weeks like a defeated animal with it’s tail between it’s legs. My passion for writing was virtually nonexistent as I puttered around feeling like a complete failure. I witnessed first hand a side of people who will stop at nothing to get what they want and don’t care who they hurt in process.

I was offered a rather large scholarship from an elite broadcasting school here in the Northeast. There I would have been trained by some of the best in television and radio one on one to expand my talent and bring it to the next level. This was a dream come true for me after years of hard work and dedication.

Tuition to such a school was excessive, but attainable. The problem was, student loans were out of the question and other forms of financing were so overwhelmed that my case would not even be heard. My only option was to develop a way that would help others, get the financing I needed, and hopefully inspire others to do the same.

Starting with an idea and simple flyer; “A Dollar for a Dream” was born. I set out to hand deliver a flyer to each home in town, explain my situation, and ask for one dollar to help my cause. All proceeds would be set up to help the town’s food bank and pay a portion of my tuition. Bank accounts were set-up, a venue was donated, and school information was provided. Those who contributed were offered a copy of my new book as appreciation for their help. Most important, I wanted to inspire others with a creative idea to those who had a dream but felt is was unattainable.

For the next week I walked over forty miles putting flyers in mailboxes.  I took advantage of any time I had whether it was day or night. The town police soon knew me well as I was stopped on a few occasions. Advil soon became my best friend as my legs burned from walking and my head pounded from lack of sleep. I knew I was onto something when a few people who had received my information encouraged me, but I did not realize the few who were against it would have the last laugh.

Everything was in place until I received an e-mail the day before the big event that stopped me in my tracks. The school administrator contacted me and expressed deep concern about my fundraiser. A few residents complained to the school and wanted the same treatment in scholarship funds that were offered to me. These people did not care how or why I attained what I did; all they wanted was the same treatment.

Should these people contact the media any type of bad press could hurt the school. We all know how the media loves to promote situations like this because we see stories everyday about people wanting something for nothing. Instead of becoming an inspiration to others I now became a potential liability. Regretfully, I pulled the project and retreated to my basement office in disgust.

Even as checks came in with notes of encouragement, I promptly sent them all back. I knew the school did not have the welcome mat open anymore and that was a hard pill to swallow. All the work involved to create this was gone and I was back to square one. Then Mrs. Peterson called.

Mrs. Peterson was a feisty eighty-five year old woman, who was quite insulted that I sent her donation back and was not afraid to tell me. She loved my idea and did not understand why others would create such a ruckus. She explained, “Life was always a challenge and the only way to overcome it was through creativity, that is how we did it in the old days,” she said.

She loved my idea so much that her Grandson’s Eagle Scout Troop in Long Island, New York is now doing the exact same thing to help others and learn the art of discipline and hard work.

The phone call was one I will never forget. Mrs. Peterson gave me old school advice that will inspire me for a lifetime. She changed my whole perspective and made me realize that all apples do have some bad seeds; you just have to spit them out and move on your way.

All the work I did was for a reason and Mrs. Peterson is living proof of a life of perseverance, tenacity, and love for thy neighbor.

© Jerry Maldonado- all rights reserved 2009   This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it