I leave for college in a week,
My phone went off this morning,
It was Boston calling me,
Not literally, you get the point.
But Emerson was calling me,
I’m $12,000 short, my bill is a month past due.
I’m a kid, 18, maybe an adult, peach fuzzed and bright eyed.
I don’t have $12 let alone $12,000.
My parents both work two jobs, I do too,
I want to be a writer.
The odds are slim,
But my parents, they believe in me,
Enough to put us all in debt.
They deserve a living wage.
I do too,
I deserve not to wake up to the phone calls on $12,000 I don’t own.
I deserve not to reach for my wallet and have an anxiety attack,
Worried that my supermarket arithmetic was wrong,
And that the cashier will ask for money, that I don’t own.
I just want to go to school,
Change the world.
I don’t want money to hold me back.
$12,000 between me and my dreams.
by Bailey Olmstead