A Bad Day

The other day I was leaving Mable Rush Elementary School and came to the four-way stop a block from the school. It was my turn to go and as I pulled out, a car on my left ran the stop sign and came skidding to a stop about five feet from my front bumper. As I looked into the car that had a handicap parking sign hanging from the rearview vision mirror, the driver had a look of shocked relief on her face. But there was also (and of course this is my interpretation) a weary look of "What next?," on her face. The first thought that entered my mind, literally, was, "This lady is having a bad day," and a feeling of mercy followed.

I'm not trying to pat myself on the back here, because of how I reacted. I'm just saying that the look on this person's face touched something in me, and it wasn't hard to not resist getting angry. Anyway, I usually get angry when I'm scared, and when you're in a big bus that you don't own, what's to be scared of.

I'm sure I'll get to report a time when I get angry in traffic.

Pencils = 47

The Work of Deception

The other day my elementary students got a good talking to by one of the teachers for the way they were acting in the gymnasium where they were waiting for me to come and pick them up. They filed out to the bus looking subdued, like mine workers on their way to the center of the earth. Then the teacher came on the bus and gave them a parting warning shot, letting them know that if she received word that things didn’t go well on the ride home, there would be repercussions!! One of the first graders timidly asked what repercussions meant. “YOU’LL BE IN BIG TROUBLE,” was the answer. “Oh…”

After the teacher left the bus, I heard a frustrated voice about one-third of the way back on the bus say, “She’s just a big, fat lady.” I turned around, not sure who had said it, but having a pretty good idea of the general vicinity, and firmly asked who said that. Several fingers pointed to Jill (not her real name). But Jill, who was sitting by herself with an open book in her hand said, “I didn’t say it!! Bella did.” Bella looked stunned and denied saying it and turned the accusation back on Jill. Jill adamantly pleaded innocents saying, “I was just sitting here reading my book,” and she had the open book to prove it. Something you should know about Bella, she gets disciplined about forty times every day during her fifty minutes on the bus, mainly for standing up absentmindedly. But this situation created several problems for Jill. One, I know the sound of Bella’s energized voice, and it didn’t sound like her at all. Two, if people had an opportunity to get Bella in trouble, most of them would take it in a heartbeat. Bella has the ability to create waves among her fellow bus riders on the calmest of days. Three, there were just too many justice-seeking fingers pointing at Jill. And four, there is no way Bella could look innocent in a moment of guilt even if she was promised everyday for a whole year would be her birthday. I quelled the storm by saying that sort of thing will not be said on my bus, and got my seven wheels on the street.

Fifteen minutes later, when it came time for Jill to get off the bus, I stopped her. “I know it was you who made that comment.” Again she started to deny it, but I firmly just said, “Jill, I know you said it,” and her look of resistance faded. Then I said, “That was not a nice thing to say, but what concerns me more is how quickly you lied and blamed Bella. I know you were scared that you would get in trouble, but you don’t want to get into the habit of lying, even if it looks like a good way to get out of a mess.”

I’m still amazed at how easily and shrewdly Jill lied. I’ve watched her for almost one and half school years, and this behavior caught me off guard. But I probably shouldn’t be surprised. We learn early to be a deceptive lot in order to avoid pain. I know, that sort of behavior has created more than it’s fair share of problems in my life. God have mercy on Jill…and me, too.

Pencils = 45

Where Are All The Right Handed Gloves?


I don’t know where I get it, but I am a scavenger at heart. These days this is especially true when I’m riding my bike back and forth to work. One of the items I regularly find, like once or twice a month, is gloves, especially the kind that are rubberized on the palm side and cloth on the backside.

But i have a question. Ninety-five percent of the time I find left-handed gloves. I don’t think this is an exaggeration. I saw another glove in the road today while driving my bus. I was sure it was a right-handed glove in good shape. But when I went back after work (this time in my truck), I found another left-handed glove, begging the question, where are all the right-handed gloves? Probably in the same place where all the missing socks are at. Either that or other people are looking for right-handed gloves, too, and are getting to the ones in the road before me and leaving the left-handed gloves behind. Miriam thinks it's because people wear out the right handed gloves faster, but then why do those people throw their left-handed gloves out in the road for me to find, knowing I can't resist picking them up? That's just mean.

Pencils = 43

What A Hug Taken In Draws Out

So I’ve become quite the hugger at the bus yard, especially in the mornings. I like to come in (at 6:00am-ish) and hug anyone and everyone who gets in my way. These are usually women who are about my age or older. I’ve got some regulars who’ve come to expect a morning hug: Grama, Kay, and Cene (pronounced seen). Then there is Cynthia and Carol who are regularly in the way. And oh….how could I forget, it all started with Lisa, the morning dispatcher and person who hands out our paychecks on Tuesday m0rnings.

There are some men who will also gladly receive a hug, but they aren’t going to go out of their way to get it or give an expectant look when I come around. Others are ambushed and basically tolerate it.

Another person who enjoys a good hug is Margarette. The first time I gave her a hug, which was just last week, she said, “Oh, I needed that.” That put her on my list of regulars. So yesterday morning she was sitting with some of the regulars when I was giving out the morning hugs. When I came to her, I hugged her and held on a bit longer. I said to her, “Take it in. You got to take a good hug in.” When I let go she said, “I don’t get many of those anymore since my husband past away.” I told her I had plenty of hugs and she could have one anytime she wanted, and she said, “I just miss being able to reach out and touch him and tell him I love him.” One good, long hug and look what comes tumbling out.

Ah Margarette, I was oblivious to your pain and loss. But now, by the grace of God, I get to bring some needed warmth and joy in your life. And that brings warmth and joy into my life. Hug on.

Pencils = 42

The Civil War on Route 22

It's been going almost since the beginning of the year on my elementary route. There are boys AND girls who are Oregon State Beaver fans and boys AND girls who are Oregon Duck fans. It's not unusual for someone to scream out, "Raise your hand if you're a DUCK fan," which is responded to by another student yelling...and I do mean yelling...the same for the Beavs. Then they start with the cheers and jeers with the voice levels escalating all the while. Finally, the bus driver tells them to cool it.

Of course, they want to know who I'm routing for. At the beginning of the year I told I like both teams and in the Civil war game them whichever team has the best shot at the end of the year at the best bowl game and best national ranking.

This obviously brings us to this year's dilemma. With both teams able to make it into the Rose Bowl with a win, this means only one thing. Until that game is over, I will be playing the roll of a peacemaker on Route 22. The only thing that makes it worse is that the game isn't one week away, but a week and half away on Thursday night Dec. 3. Go Beaucks. I mean, Duvers.

Pencils = 28

Attitude

The day before yesterday I had 62 elementary students on my afternoon route. That’s a record for that route. The route lasts between 50-55 minutes, and it can be assumed that it is 50-55 minutes of chaos. There is no question that this is chaos contained in a big, yellow, receptacle on wheel. The question is whether the chaos is joyful chaos or a chaos laced with negativity, conflict, and potential violence, either verbal or physical. Ninety-five percent of the time it is the former type of chaos. At those times, I try to relax, address blatant, unsafe behavior, and enjoy the ride, grateful for the happy (and a bit nerve racking) energy all around me. When I’m surrounded by negative chaos, it’s an act of endurance dependent on grace. I’m realizing that my attitude about the ninety-five percent of joyful chaos, makes it easier to endure the five percent of disintegrating bedlam.

Pencils= 25

General Layout: The bus yard

I arrive at the bus yard around 6am every morning, except Wednesdays, of course. We all love Wednesdays – late opening.

Each bus driver gets her/his keys, radio and heads to the bus. Of course, there are a few drivers who show up 10-15 minutes early just to socialize…and wake up.

At the bus, we have to do a 104 point, pre-trip inspection in 15 minutes. I can do it in about 18 minutes if I’m totally focused and nothing goes wrong. We have to check the engine, fluids, tires, brakes, mirrors, gauges,…. I won’t bore you with all 104 points. Of course, this all happens in the dark. On the bus, that’s no big deal, we have the inside lights. Outside, we have to use flashlights. Outside we also have to deal with the rain and cold. Lots of fun.

After I do my pre-trip, I have time to run back to the bus barn and go to the bathroom one last time before heading out. This is an important part of the morning routine, if the end of my route is to be somewhat comfortable.

When a driver gets back from route, he or she has to do a post-trip inspection (only about 25 points) and fill out paper work which will make sure all parties involved will get their money and the vehicles are running properly.

Then it’s to the bus barn to fill out more papers and talk shop. Bus drivers, like anyone else, take their work seriously and love talking about. “I couldn’t believe this guy who blew right through my reds and 2nd St. There’s also a lot of teasing and eating whatever food has been brought in for sharing.

These are amazing people. There are whose spouses make six figures at other jobs, people who are either homeless or one step away, retirees supplementing their incomes, and others looking for the next job. The interesting thing is that most of these people actually enjoy driving bus.

There are folks whose personalities clash, but by and large we all get along fairly well. And like other work places I’ve been in, there is sort of a family feeling, people taking care of each other. It’s a good place to be.

The Broken Road Fixes A Broken Relationship

Last year I had a tough year on the high school route. A group of students really didn’t like me and made things hard, miserable at times. This year has been so much better with the exception of a couple of students, holdovers from last year. One of those students has been Ashley. Ashley hasn’t liked me from day one. She has publicly stated this year a couple times that she hates me. She called me an “ass” one day in response to me telling her not to be moving around in the bus when it’s moving. Finally, she told me to never talk to her. So, respecting her request, I’ve just smiled at her every time she gets on the bus.

Yesterday Ashley was the first on the bus. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and just looked at me, like she didn’t know what to do, or maybe like she was at a crossroads. Then she asked, “What is your favorite country western song?” I was stunned, to say the least. I told her I did really listen to country western. She asked what I do listen to. I told her Eagles, James Taylor, etc. But she persisted, “But of the country western song you have heard, which is your favorite?” I was still amazed that Ashley was talking to me and could hardly even think of “Home, Home On the Range,” much less anything else. Then I remembered a song I had heard Eric (my son) playing by a group called Rascal Flats, something about a broken road. When I tried to describe it, Ashley went crazy. That’s “Bless the Broken Road,” that’s my all time favorite song. I was just listening to that on an ipod.” Then she said, “That’s really weird that you and I like the same song.” She repeated that again later in the conversation.

She went on to tell me why she didn’t ride the bus that morning and that she was living at a house with one of the other students on the bus. So she’s not living in her own home with her parents.

Ashley is a beautiful person. It’s not easy to see the beauty, but I’ve seen it and got a good look at it yesterday. My hope is that Ashley can come to see the beauty within herself, too. I’m concerned that there those along her broken road that has suggested there is very little beauty, but they’re wrong. Very wrong. I pray she will be lead along the broken road to the one who will love her most deeply and purely. Ashley is deeply loved.

If you would like to listen to Ashley’s favorite song, here you go. Great song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ohMln1Vvt7I

Pencils - 22

General Layout – High School Route (cont.)

In the afternoon, I drive to the high school and pick-up around 30 students. I arrive about 1:23pm and we leave the high school around 1:42pm. The students get out of school at 1:32pm, so that means we have about 8-10 minutes of hanging out on the bus until we leave. This is some of my favorite time. The students are much more alive and awake. These are the times I get to talk to students more. Some days not much is said between me and the students. Other days we get into some interesting, but short conversations. Of course, this is also the time when I have to run heard on these folks, e.g. can’t get off the bus once you get on, don’t lower the windows too low, watch the language, etc.

Last year, this was the toughest part of my day. A student had created a supportive critical mass with the main goal of harassing the bus driver. That student has moved on, and this year I look forward to this time of hanging out.

I take the students home to two different unloading stops. On the way, conversation in the back of the bus is usually pretty lively, and usually involves macho talk among guys, lots of teasing, and numerous conversations that involves sexual content. Easily R-rated conversations. I can’t hear much of it from the front, but I do catch bits and pieces when people get excited. That’s the back of the bus, the middle of the bus is dominated by Latino students having quieter conversations mainly in Spanish, and the front of the bus are usually the quieter students who ride along deep in thought. I often wonder what they’re thinking. I often wonder if they’re thinking they would like to be in the back of the bus laughing and carrying on. Who knows?

The trip from the high school to the bus stops takes about 20 minutes.

Oh, I do have a third stop on the run. After I’ve dropped off all the other students, John is still on the bus. John is a student who is in a program for at-risk teens. He has advanced to the place where he capable of successfully attending Newberg High School. So my last stop is dropping off John, so he can join his program. We have a two minute conversation, but everyday I ask him how his day has gone, he says, “Good,” and I ask him what was so good about it. Then he tells me something about his day. A lot can get said in two minutes.

General Layout – High School Route

The last part of my route to describe is actually my first run each day and afternoon, the high school route.

At 6:0am each morning, except Wednesdays which is late opening and an hour later, I pre-trip my bus and head out to pick up sleepy high school folks. My first pick-up time is 6:53am, but because I’m such a nice guy, I show up at the stop at 6:43ish, since students start showing up at that time and would often have to stand out in the cold or rain waiting for the bus. It also gives me a chance to talk to the early arrivals.

So I sit at the first stop for ten minutes. Most mornings, as I’m headed to the second and last stop, I pick up a couple of stragglers. I’m not sure I’m supposed to do this and I need to thinking of a creative consequence for students who think they’re special and can show up late. I thought about squirting them with the squirt gun (or bottle, no guns on the bus), but one of my “go to” students tells me this would not go over well in the morning. I tend to agree with him. I could get hurt. I pick up about 25 students at the first stop.

At the second stop, about three blocks away, students are congregated and waiting for me. They don’t get the benefit of getting immediately on the bus the way people at the first stop do.

About a week ago I instituted my first “Route 22 Unique Policy.” At this second stop, everyone wants to get on the bus ASAP, which means that the aggressive guys would get on first.

I decided that I would employ a “ladies on first” policy. The guys weren’t happy with this. One student told me I must be smoking crack if I thought they would actually go along with it.

Well, I have control of the doors, so I simply wouldn’t open the doors until the guys let the gals to the front of the line. It also helped that a couple of the guys view themselves as being pretty classy and ladies’ men, and quickly complied. Now the guys stand aside like the Red Sea parting for the Children of Israel…it’s a miracle.

I deliver these folks at Newberg HS at 7:09ish. Mornings with high school people are pretty mellow. Afternoons are a different story. I'll describe that in my next posting.

General Layout - Middle School Route
My middle school route is only in the morning. I pick-up about 12-14 students. Again, in the morning these people are fairly calm. The interesting things about this 13 minute run is that
· It takes me past the Yearly Meeting office, my former working place,
· There is a student, Evan, who is accompanied to the bus stop each morning by his cat,
Princess,
· And we go past my own house at 7:20am every morning. As we go past, I all the students to wave to the most beautiful woman in the world. Of course, that most beautiful woman rarely in sight, much less waving back at us, but I know she’s there and she’s beautiful.

Oh, the other cool thing about this run is that going up College St., where we live, is one of the more busy streets in Newberg. With three stops and a school zone to go through, there can get a pretty good stack up of cars behind the bus. That’s sort of a power rush to have ten to fifteen cars under your control…sort of.

General Layout – Elementary Route

My route involves a morning and afternoon high school run, a morning middle school run, and a morning and afternoon elementary school run.

The morning elementary school run takes me out into the country right outside of Newberg. I pick up about 14 children.

Mornings are nice. These people are usually pretty mellow in the morning…unless I make the choice to rouse them up a bit. The main way I do that is by asking them where they want to go today. Then they choose a country or city they want to go to and we “talk” about it for a bit. Yesterday we went to see the pyramids and Nile River in Egypt. However, we really don’t talk about these things, we yell. The bus is a noisy vehicle and the children want to be heard over each other, so it becomes a yelling match really quickly with the level of noise rising with every mile that passes. Yesterday on the afternoon run they were yelling about who liked the Beavers and who liked the Ducks. That got really loud…until I put an end to it.

Anyway, we talk about where we will travel to today, but everywhere we go ends up looking a bit like Mable Rush Elementary School. This seems to frustrate some folks, but most don’t seem to mind.

In the afternoon, I pick up anywhere from 45-55 children at Mable Rush. I take most of them to a couple housing developments on the edge of Newberg. The rest are the same ones I pick up in the morning.

I won’t say much about the afternoon run right now, except to say one adult dealing with 55 children who just got out of school is really bad odds. A good day is when things stay at a dull roar. We don’t have many good days. I remember on last year.

These kindergarteners through fifth grades are wonderful people. They’re cute, funny, creative, chaotic, curious, and loving…and full of life…especially noisy life.

In honor of and thanksgiving for my job driving school bus, I have changed the name of my blog site and will begin to briefly share the ordinary and extraordinary events that occur during my working hours. The names may be changed to protect the not-so-innocent, but probably not.