Chapter Thirteen: Hey Bus Driver

Chapter 13: Hey Bus Driver

Sometimes it’s the budget, sometimes it’s the drivers, but most often, it’s the students who create my bus problems. Most of these troubles are the usual student problems - they just happen to play out on the moving stage of a bus. An argument that easily could have been diffused had it been set in a classroom or play yard, becomes more intense in the confines of a school bus. When students choose the bus as the arena for their scenes of aggression, I am usually dragged into the fray.

I dread Friday afternoons. My employees, even those who often stay late, are most anxious to leave on time on Fridays. Since I am usually catching a flight or picking up my husband from an airport on Friday evenings, I too want to depart straight away.

Unfortunately many of our students are not anxious to go home, especially on Fridays, and most especially on a Friday before a three-day weekend. On Fridays before vacation weeks - forget about it. Some of my students go home to empty houses: for others, “house” is too generous a term for the dilapidated trailers with sieves for roofs in which they live. Some go home to overcrowded rooms bursting with half siblings, step-siblings, cousins and Mom’s boyfriend. Many go home to an abusive adult: a parent, a parent’s significant other or a step-parent. Many go home to empty refrigerators and empty cupboards, to dirt and palmetto bugs and unwashed clothes. Our challenge, especially on Fridays, is to get the students on the bus. One Friday in late August, we almost didn’t make it.

It’s 3:40, five minutes until dismissal time. It’s drizzling rain and I smell fecal matter: the fetid mixture of manure, shallow septic tanks and the nearby sewage treatment plant.

The end of a long day, a long week. I arrive in the bus circle before the students and run into Quentin, the driver, about to board his bus. He’s celebrating his birthday today, and I deliver greetings and ask how things are going. I regret asking since things are not going well. As the children are dismissed and plow past me onto the busses, Quentin recounts his tales of bus driver angst: enroute to school today, Luke (minus his hoop earring) punched little Glenn in the eye. He punched Glenn because Glenn was throwing pencils at him. Glenn threw pencils at Luke because Alexia/Pilar told him to. Alexia/Pilar told him to because she was on the floor of the bus under Glenn’s seat kissing Luis and she was worried Glenn would tattle to Quentin so she distracted him by having him throw pencils at Luke. Yes, this is the same Luis who recently paid Tyryona a dollar to masturbate him on the bus. Quentin relives the horror as he retells the tale. He ends demanding all four children receive bus suspensions, effective immediately.

I struggle to explain to him why I can’t do it. From a practical prospective I may not be able to get in touch with relatives who can pick them up. But also I think it’s important to discipline progressively (write up the misbehavior, contact parents, meet with parents). A bus suspension can become a de facto school suspension for many of my students. Unlike a neighborhood school, my students may live over an hour’s drive from school and because they are poor, many families don’t have a car, or have a car but it doesn’t work, or have a car but it isn’t registered, or have a car with no hood, or have a car but no money for gas or have a car but no license. If a child’s behavior hasn’t been particularly heinous and a parent begs us to bus him, we try not to suspend but to find an alternate punishment

So I am trying to focus on explaining all this to Quentin while keeping watch over the departing students and interrupting myself to respond to students wishing me a nice weekend at the same time chastising rough housing students. In fact I am in the middle of my explanation on the progressive discipline protocol to a scowling Quentin when I detect shouting behind us.

Children have been steadily boarding the busses which are in the bus circle, wagon train style, but suddenly few students are on the busses. Pushing and shoving they tumble off the busses energized by the action in the middle of the circle: Selma and Warenita, two thin, thirteen year old black girls, are exchanging blows. Warenita is shouting she wants to press charges. (Why do my Florida students always shout this? I don’t recall this rant being part of the lingo of students in the north.) I try to wrangle the rest of the students onto the busses while other staff members hold Warenita and Selma. The students are in no hurry to get back on their busses. Watching girls fight is far more entertaining than anything going on in their homes.

In ring one we have Selma versus Warenita, then we add ring two: Alexia, also known as Pilar, appears to be fighting a bus. It is unclear why she has two names, she once told me Pilar is her Spanish name while Alexia is her “Anglo” name. Alexia/Pilar, a muscular, Hispanic fourteen year old, is pacing about in an agitated state. Suddenly she rushes at one of the busses and throws her notebook at it, presumably trying to pitch it through the window all the while shouting obscenities. It appears the real object of her anger is Nishonda, one of our newest students. Alexia/Pilar then launches a full assault on the school bus, pounding her fists on the side and screaming. She can’t board the bus, the driver wisely keeps the door shut, so she continues to attack the bus. Teachers Stone and Daphne join counselors Rusty and Rosie as they struggle to hold Alexia/Pilar.

Then a cry goes out that we have a fight on another one of the busses. And in this ring, Torrey is charging down the aisle of her bus to attack Dante, Selma’s sometime boyfriend, who, weighing in on the Warenita versus Selma fight, may have said something in defense of Selma (and no doubt to provoke Torrey). Nina the bus driver is caught between Dante and Torrey (Torrey outweighs her bus driver by about 100 pounds). Transportation coordinator Shasta leaps onto the bus to try to pull Torrey off Nina. Stone leaves Rosie, Daphne and Rusty with Alexia/Pilar so he can join the forces trying to get Torrey off the bus. The Deputy calls for back up.

We are finally able to let the busses leave. In my office sits Selma at one end of the conference table, Warenita at the other end, Alexia/Pilar on the floor by the window and Torrey on the floor by the door. Rusty begins calling parents. Rosie and Daphne, both of whom are expert at calming students (especially girls) work their girl-magic trying to soothe and wipe tears.

It’s strange. A few minutes ago Selma, Warenita, Alexia/Pilar and Torrey were violent, out of control, semi-adults, threatening the safety and security of my entire school. Now they are just four little girls with tear stained faces, looking lost and more in need of hugs than handcuffs. Somehow both realities have to exist side by side, to ignore either one carries with it risks for both the girl and for those around her. But here in Central Florida, people are more likely to see the pathological rather than the pathetic.

Warenita’s mother is the first to arrive. Warenita’s mother is a slim black woman who used to have a drug problem. She is now a born again Christian and can become quite agitated when Warenita misbehaves, which she frequently does. Mom arrives wearing a clear plastic shower cap (it is now raining hard) which she keeps on inside the portable.

She feels Warenita’s problems are a result of following misguided (evil?) friends. Mom repeatedly questions Warenita. “How many friends I got? Tell me. How many friends I got?” All eyes are now on Warenita’s mother who no longer is a mother speaking to her daughter, but instead, with her voice on extreme volume, she adopts the cadence and oratory style of a preacher warning his flock of sinners about the burning fires of Hell. Warenita, no doubt from experience, recognizes this as a rhetorical question and says nothing. After several repetitions Warenita’s mother turns to me “You know how many friends I got? Warenita knows.” I follow Warenita’s lead slightly shrugging and trying to appear as though I am pondering the query. Warenita’s mother takes a breath as she prepares for a slam-bang finish: “One friend, that’s how many friends I got - one friend, JESUS. Jesus is the only friend I need.”

Sermon over, we brief Warenita’s mother on the situation and Warenita’s role in picking on Selma. Mom tells us that earlier this week Warenita told her mother she felt guilty about picking on Selma and her mother had Warenita phone Selma and apologize. I wonder if this was a set up for Selma, but we cling to this event as positive behavior on which Warenita should focus. Warenita tells her mother she wants to press charges against Selma. Her mother says no and I agree, pointing out that Warenita is likely to be arrested in such a scenario since she instigated the fight. Warenita and Mom prepare to leave.

In the meantime, Selma’s mother and stepfather have arrived. Mom is black; Selma’s biological father was Asian and her step-father is black with very bloodshot eyes. Our angle with Selma’s parents is to talk about the challenge of being the new girl and to point out that Selma’s strength has been in not responding to teasing - at least until this afternoon when she punched Warenita. I manage to mention Selma hasn’t been wearing the school uniform. Instead she wears very tight revealing tops. Selma’s parents don’t seem to know Selma needs to wear a navy blue shirt to school.

We must speak loudly now to be heard over the rain pounding on the roof.

While we are speaking with Selma’s family, Alexia/Pilar’s grandmother (her legal guardian) and younger sister arrive. Grandma doesn’t speak English and has no teeth. The old woman, probably looking older than her years, sits across the table from me. She is thoroughly soaked and dripping from the rain. I try not to stare at her puckered, sunken lips as rivulets of rain stream towards the hairs on her chin. Rusty sits next to her to translate. I speak in simple sentences knowing Rusty isn’t as fluent in Spanish as we pretend he is:

Alexia/Pilar refused to get on the bus. Alexia/Pilar was angry and started hitting the bus. Alexia/Pilar tried to get on the bus to hurt a student. It took four adults to hold Alexia/Pilar.

I speak slowly and Rusty translates along with help from Alexia/Pilar’s little sister. Grandma looks confused. I can’t tell whether Alexia/Pilar’s behavior confounds or Rusty’s translation. Meanwhile Alexia/Pilar is wildly pacing and gesturing and yelling in English. Her diatribe consists mostly of profanity mixed with accusations of a conspiracy. Rusty is shouting now, not out of anger, but to be heard over the rain and over Alexia/Pilar. He finally stops mid-sentence and points out to Alexia/Pilar that her tirade is pointless since her grandmother doesn’t understand English. Alexia/Pilar persists. When she pauses for breath I pick up on Rusty’s thread and say she might as well be speaking in Punjabi. She stops for a moment to ponder this then begins anew, undaunted. Alexia/Pilar’s younger sister, a cute, slender girl, tries repeatedly to calm Alexia/Pilar.

Alexia/Pilar’s mother arrives with Alexia/Pilar’s older sister. Alexia/Pilar’s mother is wearing an ankle bracelet: she is on house arrest for a drug conviction. The older sister and Mom are large, heavy women who stand dripping, backs against the wall, trying to become one with the paneling. Grandma sits crying, teardrops replacing raindrops.

Selma’s family and Warenita’s mother, who were departing as this scene unfolds, now stop to witness the Alexia/Pilar show. They must think their daughters look pretty good comparatively and their families don’t seem as dysfunctional as when they first arrived.

The phone rings, it is Torrey’s mother to say she will not come get Torrey and we should arrest her. Mom says an arrest is the only way to get Torrey the help she needs - admission into a program (boot camp). Mom wants to tell me the sordid tales she has shared before - Torrey’s accusations (all false of course in Mom’s eyes) of abuse at the hands of her stepfather and then her mother. I cut her short; there is too much happening in the center ring. I beg her to come get her daughter. She refuses.

A Deputy arrives to make arrests. The Deputy on Duty called in the report before he left at 4:00. First arrested is Torrey for assaulting the bus driver. This is her second arrest of the school year, she and LaQuanda were arrested on the first day of school for attacking Ionya. Alexia/Pilar is reenergized by this and escalates the intensity of her shouting. The officer puts an end to this behavior with gruff words, threats and handcuffs. Grandma’s sobs fill the void left by Alexia/Pilar’s retreat. No doubt this woman has watched her daughter cuffed and now it is her granddaughter’s turn. Grandma starts rocking and chanting laments in Spanish.

Finally all our guests are gone. It has been two hours since the busses left. Rosie, Rusty, Daphne and I write up the reports. Rosie and Rusty leave about 6:30. I drive Daphne to her south campus classroom (it is still raining) and she leaves about 7:30. I return to my office and try to get some work done. I write a new policy regarding dismissals: The homeroom teacher will walk the class to the bus in a silent line. After students are on the bus, each teacher must guard a bus door - anyone on the bus must stay on the bus - no dashing on and off. Students are either on the bus or off the bus.

My cell phone rings. It is The Boss. He is calling to say he doesn’t trust my investigation of the Tappy Gonzales blue bus situation. Tappy is asking for $600 and The Boss insists I pay him. About 8:30 I lock the door and start the two-hour drive to the Tampa airport to pick up my husband.

The following Monday, bus driver Nina, calls in sick. She calls in sick on Tuesday and Wednesday then she doesn’t call or show Thursday and Friday. Shasta, in addition to being her boss, is friends with Nina. Their kids play together and they go to the bar “Buckin Bronco” together and eat dinners at Pizza Hut together. So what happened to Nina? Shasta insists Nina quit because she and Shasta had a falling out and it has nothing to do with Torrey’s assault.

Nina is off the bus.

The busses take 25% of my revenue and some days, 100% of my patience.