I have a dream.

I have a dream: that one day people from Woodsdale will decide to ride the city bus instead of turning on their car; that one day people from Woodsdale will ride the bus to go downtown Wheeling and see the beauty of the buildings, the different faces, the lovely atmosphere, the joy of walking on Chapline Street (and suddenly see a public phone), or just to ramble around trying to imagine how crowded and beautiful that place must have been during Wheeling's gloden years; that young people would be the ones making the change.

I come for a place where public transportation is something more than just a useful mean to get somewhere: the city bus is part of a routine, is a place where you can put your headphones on and look out of the window and dream, is a place where you can just look at people's faces and guess if they had a hard day, is a place where life happens.

I've learned that talking is good, but taking action is better. So, I decided to make the first step (with the right foot) and pay $1.35 to prove that it does not matter where I ride the bus, because riding the bus gives me the same peaceful feeling.
I was proud of my decision and I involved some of my (brave) friends in my project. With fear and, at the same time, excitment, we made it: it was short and not painful at all!
It just takes a little bit of will power and an adventurous spirit.

But a dream can vanish when the only person that you expect to care the most, brings you down.

When the busdriver accused us of having not payed, and being "underage", I felt like everything has been pointless. You would expect a busdriver who sees only three people (maybe four) getting on the bus every day to be happy to see new (young) faces, wouldn't you?

Well, the only things I've heard were how buses should have age limits, and how Wheeling is dangerous, because there are 'crack-kids' on McColloch (I immediately assumed that he's never been to New York, or at least to Pittsburgh). 

I felt like I had to stand up for my ideas, and so I did. Unfortunately, I spent ten minutes talking about how we only tried to do something different, better for the community, and for the environment. And I say unfortunately because apparently I was wasting my breath. In response I got a "it was nice talking to you" and a big sarcastic laugh that rumbled in the empty bus.

Thank you bus driver for this experience. I really hope you'll change your mind, because I still have that dream. Next time, I hope I'll get a better driver, or I'll just put my headphones on.