The meeting continued for another hour. They discussed curriculum options, partnership details, legal protections for underage participants. Amara mostly listened, trying to absorb the fact that all of this, this entire program existed because of one night, one performance, one decision to not back down. When the meeting finally ended, Daniel walked Amara to the elevator. "You okay?" he asked overwhelmed.
"Yeah, I figured." He pressed the button for the lobby. "I have something to show you before you leave, if you have time." "I have time." They rode down to the first floor. The lobby was enormous marble floors, high ceilings, security desk near the entrance. But Daniel led her to a wall near the elevator bank where a large bronze plaque had been mounted. It read, "The Loretta Hayes Music Initiative.
Talent does not choose its birthplace, color, or address. Below the quote was a list of names. The first 200 scholarship recipients, Amara's name was at the top. But what caught her attention was the bottom of the plaque, a smaller inscription, in memory of Loretta Hayes, 1958 to 2022, teacher, mentor, warrior. When they try to silence, you sing three times louder.
Amara's vision blurred. She pressed her fingers to her mouth, trying not to cry in the middle of this corporate lobby. Daniel put a hand on her shoulder. Steady grounding. Your grandmother would have hated all this corporate nonsense, he said quietly.
But she would have loved what it means, what it does. Amara managed a nod. She'd probably also tell you to stop crying and get back to work. Daniel added a hint of humor in his voice. That got a laugh out of her.
Watery, but real. They stood there for a few more minutes looking at the names on the plaque. Each one represented a kid who wouldn't have to sleep on subway benches, who wouldn't have to choose between eating and buying guitar strings, who wouldn't have to prove their humanity before someone would help them. What happens to Voices of America? Amara asked eventually.
Complete restructure, new production team, new guidelines, new oversight board that includes psychologists and child advocates. The show continues, but the entire format is different. No more manufactured drama, no more exploitation. We're calling it Voices, dropping the “of America” part. Seem too nationalist anyway.
Will people watch it if it's not cruel? I guess we'll find out. Daniel shrugged. If they don't, fine. I'd rather have a failed show than a successful one built on hurting people.
Over the next 6 months, the Loretta Hayes initiative grew beyond what any of them had imagined. News outlets covered it extensively. Musicians donated instruments and time. A famous producer volunteered to run master classes. Foundations that had never funded arts education suddenly wanted to contribute.
More importantly, kids started showing up. Kids with talent that had been buried under poverty and neglect and systemic barriers. Kids who could sing, play, compose produce, who just needed someone to give them a chance without making them beg for it. Amara enrolled at the New York Academy of Music. She moved into an apartment in Brooklyn that Daniel and his wife had found for her two-bedroom safe neighborhood near a subway stop.