January 13, 2017
Dear President-Elect Trump:
The 4:00 a.m. air in State College, Pennsylvania bit at my face during the twenty step walk from my front door to the taxi. It arrived five minutes early to ferry me twenty minutes across icy roads to the local airport and my early morning flight. Settling into the back seat, I figured another twenty minutes of sleep would be great.
My driver–a petite Hispanic woman in her mid-twenties–seemed to possess an air about her that belied her age. Curious, I forewent the twenty-minute nap and struck up a conversation.
“What’s your name?”
“Maria.”
“Have you been driving taxi a long time?”
“A few months. I pick up the graveyard shifts to get a little extra cash to make ends meet.”
“How many hours a week do you work driving taxi?”
“About thirty.”
“Have another job?”
“Yeah. I work at Noodles and Company in State College.”
“How many hours a week do you work there?”
“Forty or fifty.”
“Seventy to eighty hours a week between two jobs? That’s got to be tough!”
“I gotta pay the bills. I’ve got family to support.”
“Are you from State College?”
“No. I’m from the Bronx.”
“How’d a girl from the Bronx wind up driving a taxi in State College, PA?”
“I came with my boyfriend. We didn’t work out. But it got me out.”
“What do you mean? It got you out?”
“Out of the Bronx and the situation I was in.”
“What situation?”
“My mom and dad are drugees and so are my two older brothers. They’re in gangs. They’re on the streets. It’s tough.”
“So you stayed in State College instead of going back to the Bronx?”
“Yeah. I’ve gotta make a life for myself and my little brother.”
“Little brother?”
“Yeah. When I decided to stay here, I went back to the Bronx and told my mom and dad that I was taking my twelve-year-old brother with me. I went to court and got custody of him. I’m not going to have him turn out like the rest of my family!”
“You’re raising your twelve-year-old brother?! That you took from your parents in the Bronx?! You have legal custody of him?! And the two of you live in State College, PA?!”
“It’s tough. But we’re makin’ it. I work all day at Noodles and Company, and then I get home to help my brother with his homework and get him dinner. I put him to bed, and then I drive a taxi all night. I finish in time to get home, get a couple of hours of sleep, and to get him off to school. My brother and I—we’re going to make it! We have each other.”
Pulling into the airport, I found myself wishing for another few minutes with Maria. But I got out and she was off—she had places to go, rent to pay, and a brother to save.
I’ve neither seen nor heard of Maria since. But our twenty minutes together on an icy ride to an early morning flight will stay with me forever.
Mr. Trump—if you’re ever in State College, PA, stop by Noodles and Company and ask for Maria. She works there on most days. Tell her thank you for what she’s doing for her brother and America. Figure out a way to clone her. Because she has answers to many of America’s problems and we could use her in lots of places.
Sincerely,
David O. Leavitt
