Beautiful Moment

A rainy, cool morning the school bus doors whoosh open to greet 25 elementary children. I'm dismayed to see dripping wet, open umbrellas also coming aboard. Assisting the younger children, quickly, mindful of the cars waiting behind the bus, imagining I can hear engines revving, and glancing at the line of children still outside waiting to board, I notice the canopy, spontaneously formed, of umbrellas of every color and design, just like the parents who are lovingly holding them, together, to shelter each other's children.

Summer Break

It has been fun sharing stories and impressions from the School Bus.

School's out! Time to read, finish some writing projects, and get out the grill.

Honeymoon's Over

I'm driving a short bus for the remaining four weeks of school. They're fun: faster acceleration, possibly a/c, an armrest and....seatbelts indeed, for the students who
will buckle up, albeit loose enough to turn around and socialize.

I'm an ugly, yellow, private taxi charging determinedly through traffic and back roads. I pick up children at their doorsteps (come on now, don't make me wait) and deliver them to private and religious schools.

Few students = fewer behavioral issues. I miss the drama that takes place in the big bus. Really, I'm looking for stories from the little bus. How much hair pulling can go on here? It's quiet, children sit nearer to the driver.

The only thing left to a driver looking for a story is to listen and eavesdrop. But these kids are not public school crazies! This little yellow taxi delivers its fares to a Catholic School, a $10,000 a year private school and an Islamic school.

How about some stories of suicidal teenage drivers in mustangs and rude BMW's with all the windows tinted black, few respect the school bus.

Blood and Children

Blood stains clothes! Blood is dangerous! Blood scares and panics primary children and to hear: "Jared's bleeding!!, Bussss DrIIver! Jared's bleeding!",can scare the driver.

Fortunately, Jared and the famous Phillip were sitting in the front seat. What a ghastly sight. Jared had a heavy duty nosebleed and Phillip looked concerned. Apparently, Phillip elbowed him in the nose "by accident".

First decision -give Jared a tissue. Second decision - move Phillip.

The maternal first grader, Emma, in the white jacket, was moving toward Jared to soothe and comfort him. "Sit down, Emma, the blood will stain your white jacket".

"Maybe this ones a bleeder", I wondered. The tissue I gave to Jared was useless. Blood was smeared all over his face and hands. The students in the front seats were on full alert. In my mirror I saw 20 little faces reflecting horror and fascination . All eyes on Jared. The back of the bus was clueless, thank goodness.

By the time we got to the school, the bleeding had stopped, of course. Jared had so much dried blood on his face and hands, he looked like he had had a severe head injury. I was glad to hand him over to the nurse, who was waiting for us. She proceeded to walk with Jared into the school and quickly returned. "Which one's Phillip?", she demanded.

If I could post a picture of Phillip, you might say, "you go, girl", because I didn't help her. The school would locate him soon enough anyway. He's only six.

Tears? What Tears?

70 elementary schoolers on my bus last week! Does that seem crazy, or even dangerous to anyone? It's certainly chaotic...and distracting to the driver.

Today, amid the din and craziness I could see a first grader, 8 rows back, looking at me, crying in a way that really tugged at my heart and calling (what else) "buuuus driverrrrr, buus driiiverr". Frustrated because I couldn't hear him, I grabbed my trusty intercom and yelled to a 4th grader, "Samantha, tell me what is happening with those boys in the seat in front of you!"

"Ahmed hit James and James is crying".

"Ahmed! I want you sitting in your seat, I want your face looking straight ahead and I want your hands on your lap, now!". Remember how much I loved the little ones in my first week?

As soon as I yelled at Ahmed, the little heart-tugging boy morphed back into a happy 1st grader.

A Moment in the Bus

Phillip is in first grade. I just love him. He is so darn cute. A little chubby with a big round face. Phillip causes a lot of problems. I keep my eye on Phillip every day.

How does Phillip know when I'm checking on everyone in the rear view mirror? Each time I look back, he is looking at me, poised in the midst of doing something. Many of my 1st nine days as a driver, Phillip sat up front.

My choice, not his.

One day, after dropping off the K-1 kids, I proceeded to the next school to drop off the 2nd-4th's. As the kids file past me, I'm repeatedly informed, "Bus Driver!, Adin is crying!" or "Bus Driver, Adin missed his stop." The bus empties of the final 50 children except one.

The top of a red hoodie is barely visible over the top of a seat in the back.

I could not leave my seat and other buses were lined up behind me waiting to go. "Sweetheart, come up front," I called serveral times until the red hoodie finally moved, slowly walking up the aisle. The red hoodie was on a little, dark, crying, kindergartener.

"You just sit down right here and we'll go right back to Gockley. Don't worry, it's ok. Really. No one will be mad at you."

"What's your name?" "What?" "Tell me again."

Sobbing and heaving, "...hit..me". "Who hit you?"

"Phillip. Phillip hit me," sob, sob, sob.

Adin sobbed and hiccuped for the 5 minute ride back to his school. His little body was spent and prostrate on the floor when we arrived. One of the teachers on bus duty boarded my bus and utilized all their special teacher skills to get Adin into school!

Phillip is permanently in the front seat!

Day 1 Mentors

My last post signed off with the promise of introducing Phillip and the K-child. I'll get to them. Believe me, there are a ton of Phillips and crying K-children. I won't forget Phillip.

Back to Day 1
First day as a bus driver I was a passenger. Front seat, notebook in hand, busy jotting down the route, bus stops, difficult turns to watch out for, etc. This morning run was driven by a quiet man who patiently expained bus driving things as we meandered along the route.

Instruction from the Potty
The afternoon driver.... speaks for itself. The first thing this big bellied, know everyone, good hearted man bellowed to me was: "Rule number 1. Don't let them give you any SH#@!!"

"Okay", I mewed.

Because of the speed at which he drove the bus and took the turns, I was concentrating on my task of notetaking yet I managed to hear a little voice across the aisle. Two little angels were looking at me, eyes big and expectant. "What did you say, sweetheart?", I asked. "Would you like to play I-Spy with us?", he asked breathlessly, as though he were offering me a million bucks. What did the driver mean by take no SH#@?

Middle School
Now I know what he meant by take no SH#@. Foul mouth continued spewing forth his sage advice, peppered with SH##s and BIT##s and DAM$s and more SH#$S, as he attacked the winding road, foot pressed full on the throttle. "Language!!" he roared, suddenly, looking in the rear view mirror. I never heard the offending word, and I was amazed that such a potty mouth (learned that word from the mid schoolers) would even notice. Apparently he does not tolerate offensive language on his bus.

The middle school run has become my favorite. Foul language has been squashed, thanks to tattle telling girls..who have pointed out the 'potty mouths'. Middle school girls tattle!

This week I assigned three boys to the front seats. Troublemakers. Having them up front enabled me to get to know them a little. They're not so bad. They're kids.

Bus Driver! Bus Driver!

The Newbie Speaks
I've been driving a school bus for four days and...I like it. Two hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon, sitting up high and trying not to take out street signs when I take left turns. The highlight of each of those shifts is my elementary school run.
I'm Telling!
My last run on each shift is the K-4th graders. In the morning, I deliver them to two schools (on the same campus): the K-1st school and the 2nd - 4th school. First, I go to the K-1 school. We always have to wait about five minutes until the teachers come out before opening the bus doors. That's when the tattling, and my battle to keep a straight face, begins. There are several stories to tell, but I'll just tell a little for now.
Case Dismissed
Two adorable kindergaten girls approached me. One had her little hand on the side of her face. Try to imagine this:

Cutie#1: Bus Driver, she hit me with her backpack.
Cutie#2: By accident
Cutie#1: Yes, by accident.
Me, thinking: "then what are we tattling for"
Me, saying: "Well, are you okay?"
Cutie#1 & Cutie#2: Yes, it's okay.

This afternoon Phillip will sit in the front seat
Phillip is in 2nd grade. He has a crew cute and a little round face. When I check on the kids in the rear view mirror, I notice that Phillip notices this and looks right at me. It's as though I'm always catching him about to do something naughty. He is naughty.

More on Phillip tomorrow and the crying kindergartener who forgot to get off the bus.

Getting Back On Track

Big day yesterday - passed the school bus driver test! How did this happen? It just did.

Our school district was offering free bus driver training and I thought, "what the heck - it's free, there's a recession, why not learn a new skill?" (Besides, at least it pays pretty well - a lot better, at the moment, than that fledgling writing career!)
It Became a Case of "Stick-to-it-Ness"

--16 hours classroom
--background checks, drug testing
--Commercial Drivers permit - 4tests (Air Brakes, Gen'l Knowledge, Passenger and ?)
--8-12 hours per week on the training course for about 6 weeks

--You wouldn't believe the memorizing I had to do!

--One hour Q&A, maneuvering, and road test with the PennDot examiner.

What Now...
I'm hired... Substitute Driver. Good. That's enough.
Lesson Learned...School bus drivers have an amazing responsibility and it is incredible how much they have to know - at least in this district.
Drop outs...Of the original 28 who signed up for the course - only 5 stayed with it. Would I have signed on for this if I realized how much work was involved? Hmm, I don't know.

Soapbox (kind of)

I've been looking at the layout of my blog, lately, and have been thinking that it's time for change. Hmmm, where else have I been hearing that expression? Oh, yeah, I just remembered. B.O. It should be B.H.O., but I remember he was a little sensitive about his middle name, so I wouldn't dare use it - general public and media do not criticize or ask probing questions of our "citizen of the world", from my viewpoint, anyway. I guess I'm a little irritated with our new president because I'm busy enough. Now I'm going to have to get more involved than ever to keep an eye on this charming guy.

The change I really was talking about is my my blog. "Write to Inform" is slowly peeking forth. That is the name on my business card for my writing business, the pursuit of which, I am about to step up. That's why I'm angry about our new president. I need to watch him closely and I'll probably end up involved with some group or other to fight some of the "change" that may come. Dang, Drat, *&#@, Mr. Obama! I don't have time for this.

Takes My Breath Away

There she is, my daughter, now a married woman to a loving and kind husband. Such an exciting time for them! College graduation is upcoming; a move to their new home in Michigan and new jobs and new friends.

I'm ready. College, 2,000 miles away for 4 years braced me for a distance relationship. So, more phone calls, text messages, emails, blogs, and old fashioned handwritten letters - flickr, facebook, and... plane tickets.

She's ready. Once the shy little girl behind the book or the camera, Jenn learned of and observed her world, on her own terms, cautiously and analytically. One toe in the water, then another, then the whole foot, then both feet.

The result? A loving, compassionate and gentle young woman, assured of the goodness of most people, and free to love (both feet first), with all her heart, her new husband and family. Another result? I am just so proud of my girl. Dad is too.