From Bronx Subway Seats to Award Wins
The number 2 train rattled southbound from the Bronx, the wheels grinding against the cold rails, often sounding like nails on a chalkboard. Among the crowd sat a young man—tall, a little awkward, a head full of hair, legs folded tight to make space for the rush hour crush. His large portfolio case was wedged between his feet. In his hands, a worn copy of GDUSA magazine, pages softened from too many reads.
He flipped through the pages, not really reading the articles. His eyes chased the layouts, the typography, the kind of breakthrough ideas that seemed just out of reach. Daydreaming. Not about classes. Not about the long hours ahead. But about one day, maybe, seeing something of his own in those pages. An ad. A logo. Anything, that he designed himself. A fleeting thought that felt, at the time, like fantasy. Like the graffiti rushing past the windows.
Every day, the same routine. Board the number 5 at Morris Park. Transfer to the number 2 at 180th Street. Squeeze into a seat if he was lucky. Open the magazine. Escape the rattling train and the daily grind of a commuting student’s life. For those brief minutes, it wasn’t about the noise or the motion or the city hurtling past—it was about the dream.
Years later, when the letter arrived, it wasn’t loud. It wasn’t flashy. It was just a simple message: your work has been selected. The letter pulled him back to those subway mornings, back to the magazine he used to flip through, back to the quiet hopes he carried.
Last year, that young commuter—older now, a little wiser—earned recognition from GDUSA, and a few others along the way. (LINK). The magazines once filled with daydreams now include his work, and the journey from subway seats to award wins feels both impossibly long and breathtakingly short.
But here’s the thing: the ride isn’t over. It never is. The train keeps moving, the pages keep turning, and new dreams keep taking shape. And if you’ve ever sat in that same seat—literal or metaphorical, flipping pages and wondering if your moment will come, know this: stay on the train. Stay with the dream. The awards will come.
