I Am a Bus Driver

I am a Bus Driver

We all know that school teachers are underpaid for what they have to do in this day and age. Let's talk a second about what school bus drivers do every day. I speak from experience. We drive a 16,000 pound vehicle filled with your children to and from school every day. As a rule we do so safely and with out any problems.

We are responsible for making sure your child gets across the street safely. We do our best to make sure your child is not bullied while in our care. We are not allowed to befriend your child lest we be thought a predator. We are not allowed to discuss your children's behavior problems with you. If little Johnny puts his hands on little Suzy in an inappropriate manner, we have to jump through hoops so you can get that information from the school not us. Schools buses in the district I work in have up to 72 students at any given time. This is because of budget cuts, not because of the lack of caring on the part of the district or the bus company.

Bus drivers on a daily basis put up with people cursing us because we made them stop when they were in a hurry. We have that stop sign on our buses for a reason people, do not run through it. Every time you pass a bus with that sign out you are putting children in danger. All we want to do is pick up or drop off our babies safely. Yes I said our babies. I say this because despite the rules we get attached to your kids. When they lose a tooth and brag about it to us we smile just like you do. When one is sick, or hurt we cry just like you do.

A vast majority of people who drive a school bus, do so because they love the job. The greatest gift I have ever received from a student was a hand written card that said, "Thank you for keeping us safe".

Driving a school bus as a rule is almost a calling. I know people that have retired from one career, and started driving a bus, just for something to do. They keep driving for the love of the job. I for one recently got a job working in the oil field and do not need to keep driving a bus. I am still going to be a substitute bus driver when I am not working in the field. Why, you might ask. because I am a bus driver. I am underpaid for what I do and I have too many children on my bus at one time. I have no other adult on that bus but me. But, I am a bus driver damnit, and that is what i do. There are many more like me and we do it because it needs to be done.

As the new school year starts, please take the time to know who your child's bus driver is. If you child has some special need or health problems, drop your driver a note. The law will not allow the district to share that information with the drivers, as a rule. There are very few exceptions to this.

Now a little note for all my bus driving friends. Have a great year!!!

Bullies!

Bullies!

First and foremost let me say two things. I have not yet seen the movie Bully. I am not saying that the problem of bullies in school is not worse now than in the past. I simply want to make a few observations. For those of you that do not know it, I am a father of grown children. I now drive a school bus for a living. I have seen some things that give me pause for concern over the last thirty years that I have called myself an adult.

Bullies are the same now as they were when I was the nerd kid in school. They are one of the reasons I dropped out of school. They were not, by any stretch of the imagination, the only reason. Bullies play on the insecurities and weakness of others. I have noticed one major difference that has given bullies the upper hand. They have an advantage that they do not deserve and we, as a society are capable of taking it away.

I will give you the reader, one example of this advantage. Several years back my youngest son, being a rough and tumble kind of kid had broken his hand. Now, my son rode the school bus home and much like most schools now, the bus area was not supervised by any school personnel. This was left to the bus drivers. At this particular school, the bus drivers were required to stand outside their buses to keep an eye out for the kids. My son was already on the bus and was attacked from behind by another student. Left with no alternative, Thomas defended himself. The disturbance got the attention of the driver, and both boys were taken to the principal. I was called and told simply, that my son was in a fight on the bus and was being suspended from school. As a parent, I supported the school in their decision to punish even my child, if he had done something wrong. I went to the school the next day after I heard my sons side of the story. The assistant principal of the school informed me that he had spoken to witnesses that morning and things were as I had been told. His reaction to this was to reduce my sons suspension to just two days instead of three. He said "we have a zero tolerance for fighting here". I explained that even by the statements of witnesses my son had merely defended himself. I was told that did not matter. Now I will not bore you with details, but I did not let this stand. My son was attacked by a bully. He defended himself and was going to be punished! How does that work again?

As a bus driver I have seen with my own eyes a special needs child bullied by other students. I also saw and heard other students explain immediately  that this would not be accepted. No punches were thrown and the child seemed OK with the way things turned out. I chose not to interfere. I stand by my actions.

"Zero Tolerance" is several things in my mind. It is not a way to reduce violence  in our schools or anyplace else. It gives bullies another tool to use to intimidate and torture those that they perceive as weaker. The policy has become a more and more the accepted way to deal with fights in school. "Zero Tolerance" has become a reason for normally intelligent people to not think. OK. Lets break this down  a little bit. "Zero Tolerance"does not, for the most part, mean "Zero Tolerance" for the kids that beats your kid to a pulp because he is different. It is for being "involved in a fight". This way we do not have to place blame. Guess what! Some times it is somebodies fault. Punish the person that did something wrong.

So let us understand this completely. If your child has gone to adults seeking help because he is being picked on and the situation is not resolved, or there is no way for your child to get to an adult, he or she can not defend them self with out being punished. This, is "Zero Tolerance". So, to keep their children out of trouble parents must teach their children not to defend themselves. The "bully"on the other hand, just has to wait until no one is looking to torment a "weaker" child. The child goes to an adult and reports it.  The bully is chastised and told not to do it again. Gee, can we guess how well that works?

I am going to be a  bit blunt now, so be prepared.

Children are taking their own lives, because they are being bullied and they can do nothing about it. Many have asked for help and gotten nothing. Parents try to get help for their kids and are given nothing. Stand up, dammit! Refuse to take this any more.  Teach your children to defend themselves. Teach them that as a "last resort" it is ok if they hit back. Stand behind your child if they are forced to defend themselves. When a bully discovers your kid will not be an easy target, they will move on. Encourage you friends to do the same thing. We need to have our own "zero tolerance policy". We should not tolerate our school systems turning kids into victims. We should not tolerate our children being punished for defending themselves if the system fails them. I for one will stand up and say "no more children can be allowed to die"! I will not stand by any longer and allow a "bully" to ruin another child's chances of living a full life.

We have let our guards down and in the process, we have let our children down. Stand up and say "NO MORE".

Do You See What I See?

I watch the news and I see reports of soaring un-employment. I see stories of tragedy striking families. I hear about friends who are, “cutting back this year” because a cut in hours at work has cut their budget. I see engineers working at a dollar store because that is what was available. I have children on my bus that don’t think Santa can find them in that little trailer they had to move into. I could go on and on about the bad, but I am sure you have heard it too. I will soon be 52 years old and this is the worse I remember things being in general.

But wait what is that at the end of the tunnel? Is that a light I see? The last few weeks I have been hearing strange and wonderful things. In a small town in Colorado a woman paid the balance of a family’s layaway for their kids Christmas. I was talking about this to a friend and he said, no, that was in Florida. So being one to want all my facts straight, I looked it up on the internet. My God people do you know what is happening in this land we love? All over the country people are randomly paying off layaway bills with toys on them.

I watched the news tonight and I saw a story about a family that lost everything in a fire. Today Santa shows up on a fire truck with toys and gifts for the whole family. A free toy store for the needy a few days ago had bare shelves. Today it was full to overflowing. Last week a group was considering canceling their Christmas meal program for lack of food. That day 50 thousand pounds of food shows up at their door.

As we quickly approach Christmas and Hanukah I say to you my friends Christ is not gone from Christmas. God has not deserted us. We will heal the wounds we have suffered and we come back as strong as ever. No government agency will save us. We will do it ourselves with help from on high. I do not care what your faith or religious bent, this tends to be the season we all celebrate something. This year I will celebrate the giving nature I have seen in people.

What do you remember?

As we get older it is a sad fact that people we love pass from this world and our lives. Some times for some reason I just sit and think of the people that I have lost, and what they meant to me. I am not talking about some morbid thoughts of what could have been. I think of the joy I experienced because these people were in my life. Some of you who read this will not feel the same way I do about these people. That’s ok I love you for who you are, and the joys you bring into my life.

Let me begin by saying I was not the best son, grandson, or brother that ever was. I am the best I know how to be and the influence of all these people help make me who I am. When my Grandmother died I indulged in some good old fashioned self pity. I felt she was the last of my parents and I was now an orphan. I was wrong in that thought, I am not and orphan and never will be. At fifty-one I am still learning and growing, influenced by people that love me.

As the youngest of five children, quite often I am sure I was a pain in the neck. But my Grandmother John, my Dads, mom would not let me be left out. One of my fondest memories of her was a two person game of trouble, just me and her. I had the attention span of a gnat and the “big kids” did not want me to mess up their game. All was right with the world.

Grandfather John was somewhat of a patriarch in my mind. That does not mean in reality he was some mythic head of the family. He just seemed so to one child. My best memory of him is a very firm lesson about loaded guns. You can feel how you want about striking a child, but a cuff to the back of the head because I did not check a weapon correctly probably is the reason I never shot my own foot off. To this day I double check any weapon even if I am the one that unloaded it.

Grandmother Newman was simply the most awesome grandmother one could have. From sitting with me or my children telling stories about the past to a thimble to the top of my noggin to jog my memory of spelling words she was the consummate grandmother. The stories she told me about my Grandfather Newman are the only memories I have of him and I thank her from the bottom of my heart for that.

Mother I will miss you for the rest of my life. I hope some day I will get to sing “Buffalo Gals” to my grand children. You know I was probably a teen ager before I realized you were joking about falling asleep and missing that bridge. Sorry folks this part is just between me and her.

Dad was not always there, but he did teach me some things and as an adult I had the opportunity to get to know him better. He taught me respect for others. He taught me to take responsibility for my own actions and try to make a difference in my world. Dad was never happy with his own parenting but I truly believe he did the best he knew how.

Pat, what does one say about and angel? We disagreed on politics and many social issues but you taught me that was ok. My middle sister never compromised her beliefs. She was beautiful inside and out. Pat do you remember when they asked you for your hall pass when you came to get your sick little brother from school? It was in a Jr. high and you were 21, that’s fun for kids of all ages.

Uncle Charles, with out knowing you taught me, never give up. I do not know how many times you started over but you always made it back.

Mrs. May, Your undying love for your Children and Husband were an inspiration. Your tenacity in their defense is awe inspiring.

Homer and Sue Little you were the definition of dedication to family.

Susan Parker, now matter what cards you were dealt you smiled in the face of it and never gave up.

Chris, Marci and Verne, do not think I love you less or that I have learned nothing from you. This was just some lubrication for my soul. This whole article was just me telling my self why my tears are justified sometimes. I miss the ones that are gone and that’s ok.

I wake up every day and, decide this will be a good day. I learned this from the people that have influenced me in my life over the years. No one said I should do it. They taught that lesson quietly and with out words. Look around at the people in your life. What are they teaching you with out knowing it?

Ya’ll are not as smart as you think.

A few days ago, I made the mistake of letting the misinformed opinion of others hurt my feelings. I has come to my attention that some people from above the mason Dixon line assume that people from below that line are somehow less intelligent. Now I first encountered this prejudice in the late 70’s when I was in the Navy and stationed in Connecticut. It again reared its ugly head almost five years ago when I moved to the mid-west. Well let me inform ya’ll of a few things. Just because we are from the south does not make us stupid.

Michael DeBakey was born in Lake Charles Louisiana and even worse to foreign Parents. The hospital he did his research in and the university he served at are both located in Houston Texas.

Howard Hughes, one of the wealthiest men that ever lived, was born in Houston, Texas. Did I mention he was a motion picture maker and an aviator? Oh, and the Hughes Glomar Explorer, helped the CIA recover a soviet nuclear submarine off the coast of Hawaii in 1974.

Louis Armstrong, Southern jazz, cornet, and trumpet player, singer, bandleader, and popular entertainer. Armstrong overcame poverty, a lack of formal education, and racism to become one of the most innovative and influential musicians of the 20th century, and one of the most beloved entertainers in the world. Louis was born in New Orleans Louisiana.

Omar Nelson Bradley was born - literally in a log cabin - near Clark, Missouri, on 12 February 1893, the only surviving child of schoolteacher John Smith Bradley and Sarah Elizabeth Bradley, nee Hubbard.

Patrick Henry, Southern orator and statesman, whose fiery patriotism was influential in leading the colonies toward revolution. Ya’ll remember, “Give Me liberty or give me death”? Mr. Henry was born in Virginia.

George Washington, the father of this great nation was also born in Virginia. Although worn out by years of service to his country, Washington reluctantly accepted the presidency of the United States.  Washington fully understood the significance of his presidency. “I walk on untrodden ground,” he said. “There is scarcely any part of my conduct which may not hereafter be drawn in precedent.” During eight years in office, Washington laid down the guidelines for future presidents.

George Washington Carver, Harriet Tubman, Harry Truman, Woodrow Wilson, William Faulkner, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Babe Ruth are all proud sons and daughters of the south. There is a lot more folks but there is no reason to “beat a dead horse”.

So the next time you here a bit of a twang in someone’s voice or take note of a word that you might not be familiar with, do not assume that person is not that bright. We might just look at you and say, “Bless your heart”, which is southern for several things. Look it up!

Credit for some of the facts in this blog goes to http://www.knowsouthernhistory.net/index.html

Who is driving your children to school?

Bus drivers today are not the bus drivers of my youth. Gone are the Gym teacher and Johnny’s mom. Today, in most cases, a school bus driver is a professional driver. We are trained well and continuously. School bus drivers today are held to standards higher than that of a motor coach driver or an over the road trucker.

Let’s start with the medical exam I have to go through every year. Other professional drivers have a physical every two years. Along with this I must prove I am able to physically perform my duties in an emergency, by undergoing a dexterity test every two years. School bus drivers in my state attend refresher classes every year covering such things as emergency first aid, traffic laws and basic driving skills. This is above and beyond the monthly safety training my company provides.

Some people refer to us as part time workers who should not have all the privileges of full time workers. Please allow me to dispel that myth. By the time field trips and sporting events and after school activities are provided for, most of us put in over 40 hours a week. Not only that, but we do it in split shifts. I personally leave my house before six every morning to start my route at 6:15 AM and return home after 8:00 pm. I could come home between runs, but at over $3.00 a gallon for gas, that would not make economic sense.

What is a School bus driver’s job? In a nut shell it is to transport your children safely to and from school or school events. We also have to clean up after them when they leave trash on the bus. We referee when they can not get along and tend them if they get sick or hurt while under our care. All of this in a 40 foot long yellow box that other drivers just for some reason can not see.

To paraphrase a semi-famous comedian, “Can we talk about your kids?” Moms and Dads, do you really look at how your kids are dressing for school? I do not need to see how much “Suzy” grew up over the summer, if you get my drift. I do not need to see “Billy’s” new boxer shorts. However, if I notice any of this and speak to Mrs. Average mom, I am some kind of freak for looking at her daughter’s chest.  I am sorry Dad your angel is wearing those short shorts you forbade her to wear in public under her warm up pants and is taking off the warm ups in the back of the bus. Oh, and Dad while we are talking to you, please tell “Billy” it is not ok to put his hands on “Suzy” even if he thinks it is funny.

At any given time a school bus may contain as many as 70 children or more, depending on capacity. Do you have any idea what 70 children talking and laughing sounds like inside a metal box? If you hear me raise my voice while driving it is not because I am “yelling” at your kids, I am just trying to be heard. If you see a school bus pulled to the side of the road, chances are the driver just needs to talk to his students for a moment and will be back on the road soon. Every now and then he is tending a student that is sick or hurt. Do you really want to know the feeling of herding that big yellow bus and realizing that “Mary” is having a seizure 8 seats back? Please tell your children’s bus driver if your baby has a health problem they may have to deal with.

Now please do not think this is just a bitch fest. I love my job and get more satisfaction from it that any job I have ever had. When I speak of the students on my bus I refer to them as my babies.  My co-workers for the most part are the most dedicated bunch of professionals I have ever had the pleasure of working with.  When one of our babies moves away we miss them. When tragedy strikes and we lose one of our special babies, we weep openly and with out shame. When they grow up and go off to their own lives we are proud. You may hear us complain a bit about that “one kid that will not behave”, but don’t you dare talk bad about our babies.

So next time you hear about a school board meeting, go to it. When they speak of cutting the transportation budget and keeping the “bass fishing club” and the “war games club”, speak up. I did not make these up folks, these are real school sponsored clubs in the district I work in. You pay the bills, you have a say in how they spend your money.

Retail Excursion

I should have known better. It was two weeks till Christmas and to top that there was the impending apocalypse. Ok there was a prediction of an inch of snow the next day and people were stocking up like they had already seen the four horsemen. For some reason with all of this I decided I needed to go to a major retail store. What was I thinking? Had I taken complete leave of all my senses? I think it is all to be blamed on the weatherman. I had seen the forecast for Monday. The high temperature is supposed to be in the teens. I decided I needed some insulated bib over-alls. Please no comments about the fashion mistake that is “bib over-alls”. I have mentioned before, I am getting older and need the protection from the cold. So off to the afore mentioned retail store I went.

Some of you may not know I drive a Twenty year old station wagon which I have named Moby the great white whale. Driving this great North American land barge into retail parking lots is sometimes an adventure. Yesterday the parking lot was very crowded due to the season and the upcoming apocalypse and all. We did however manage to find a space in the north forty that would accommodate Moby. The walk to the store was fairly un-eventful other than my unfortunate choice in foot wear. Crocks and socks are not good for rainy cold days.

As I entered the store I noticed the door mat inside. I started for the mat to wipe the water from my shoes so as not to track it through the store and as a preventive measure lest I fall on my old behind. The distance to the mat from the door was about four feet which I slid waving my arms franticly in an attempt to maintain balance. I did not fall and my shoes were now free of water. The comments in the background made me snicker a bit. Did you see that old guy almost fall? Oh my, the poor old man out and about all alone. My favorite was by the department Manager that just happened along. Move that runner closer to the door before we get sued by some old fart.

The shopping or as my wife calls it retail therapy could now begin. I went straight to the department I needed and started looking for my bib over-alls. Then I remembered my folly. I am above average height. In this particular retail store that in itself normally means I was out of luck. This was a completely normal situation. Now I am no giant I am just above average in height and a bit on the portly side. So I headed out of the store the same way I came in. The gauntlet of whispers by the entrance was hilarious. One teenage worker actually looked like he was ready to catch me if I fell.

Back out in the parking lot the first thing I did was step in a puddle. Now I have cold and wet feet. Neither this nor the sound of a horn honking dampened my resolve. I felt sure the man in the red and white lifted pick-up truck from his vantage could see all the cars in front of him. He still thought that honking his horn would hurry things along. Possibly if the stooped over old woman with the walker had slipped and fallen in the rain he would have been satisfied. Probably not.

I did go to another store and I am here to tell you it was a wonderful experience there. This store I will in fact name and brag about. I went to the farm and home store in Alton, Illinois. I found a parking place close to the store and went inside. The door runner was close enough that I was able to wipe my feet without the acrobatic display of balance. I again went straight to the department I needed and found a very good selection of insulated bib over-alls. The young lady that waited on me was very polite and friendly. She in fact went out of her way to help me and the other customers I saw her encounter. In general the store was clean and well stocked. I even looked around for gift ideas for my family. I am not now nor have I ever been a paid representative of Farm and Home supply. They are however a wonderful example that sometimes a smaller company still remembers the customer.

All in all I still think that shopping is an activity for someone other than me. I have however proven that I can do it when needed. Maybe someday soon I will branch out into groceries. Not a chance!