I spent a lot of time in the Prius this week, not just on my long commute, but also driving Bea and Harriet back and forth to school; luckily Harriet’s preschool is a park-and-walk situation, and Bea’s elementary school is pretty small, so drop-off and pick-up aren’t too time-consuming. But I’m wondering if it seems to you that school buses are… disappearing? And if the car lines that stretch around the block at many schools, cars idling as early as 2:15 for a 3:00 pickup, seems… reasonable?
As a kid I rode the school bus every day, to and from school—everybody did. If this sounds like “I walked a mile to and from school, uphill both ways,” it kind of is—our driveway at the farm was a mile long, and we walked to the bus stop. The ride to school was an hour. Not because it was a convoluted route, but because we lived in one end of the county, and school was on the other end. Also, on one of my buses the driver carried a switch (for her own grandkids, but still!). When I taught in New York and D.C. the kids didn’t have buses because they could walk or take public transportation, which was cool.
But the car line is not cool. It is oppressive, boring, work-interrupting, bad for the Earth, bad for working parents, and bad for kids. The car line makes me irrationally resent other parents who apparently have nothing better to do than sit in their SUVs, staring at their phones at 3:00 in the afternoon on a weekday (also true, apparently, for me). But some kids and parents don’t have that choice, and some of those kids have to ride on the bus for a long, long time.
Bea is sometimes one of those kids, but she loves the school bus! She has lots of friends on the bus, and she really likes the time for goofing off and being silly, a transition between school and home. She says one of the things she is looking forward to most about the pandemic is “three butts to a seat on the school bus” (I think it’s currently limited to two butts). Yet we’re at a crossroads with the school bus because although we live five minutes from her school, the morning bus ride would be an hour and twenty minutes (she has never taken the morning bus because 6:30 AM is not a workable time for us), and the ride home is currently more than an hour. I learned this week that her afternoon bus leaves school, goes to the middle school, then comes back to school for some reason. No wonder it takes so long.
I don’t blame her school. Unfortunately, in North Carolina as in other states, there is a bus driver shortage (and a teacher shortage, and a cafeteria worker shortage, and a school nurse shortage). It’s a hard, important job that doesn’t pay what it should. For that reason, but also I suspect because so many of us have switched to driving our kids, we are doing without buses. And the more we do without them, I’m afraid, the more likely we lose them for good. Most charter schools (there are two in fancy new buildings just down the road from Bea’s school) already do without buses; if you want your kid to attend one (or if you want to start one—unfortunately quite easy in North Carolina), you can say goodbye to the school bus, and say hello to the car line.
Riding the bus (or taking another form of public transport) builds independence, community, and gives kids the message that they are not the most important person in the world. I said that once to some Montessori moms and they looked quite horrified, but I think it’s a valuable lesson! The bus is an imperfect place where people behave imperfectly (hence the switch), and where authority and hierarchy work differently than in the classroom. You’re (mostly) in charge of what you do on the bus: you might read, play weird games, eat candy you can’t eat at home, or learn suspect information you’ll have to puzzle out later. You might have to look out for a sibling or stand up for a friend. On the bus you take your turn, you wait for others, you talk to kids who are older or younger or in a different class. You might just meet someone amazing—in elementary school I rode the school bus with Rodney Robinson, who later became National Teacher of the Year!
In kindergarten and first grade, whenever Bea’s bus would stop at our driveway and the doors would creak open, her (now-retired) bus driver Mr. Ronnie would say, “Hi Mama, I’ve got a beautiful little girl for you!” His kindness and warmth was so comforting, a reminder that when I sent my kids out into the world, there were good people looking out for them.
We miss Mr. Ronnie a lot, but we’re glad that Bea is having an outdoor play date—today!—with a friend she made on his bus her kindergarten year. I think she’ll go back to riding the afternoon bus next week, at least most days.
How about you? Did you ride the bus as a kid? Is it possible where you live to use a school bus for your kids?
“But the car line is not cool. It is oppressive, boring, work-interrupting, bad for the Earth, bad for working parents, and bad for kids.”
Couldn't agree more! I was having (unrealistic) thoughts of homeschooling again, mostly because of commute and carpool. It FEELS so bad to spend two hours a day doing this. Sorry you list your bus this year 😵💫
While reading this post, I seemed to only be able to think about one thing, the haves and have nots. School buses will still run as long as we have children of poverty who would not be able to get school without provided transportation. I live within a mile of a high school, middle school, and elementary school. When I drive by during dismissal times, I am always struck by two things! Some buses are packed to capacity with mostly children of color, and others are almost empty band the few children onboard are usually white. This says so much about our society, far too much for me to get into right now. My children road the school bus to school during elementary, but were picked up by me after because they went to an after school program which was largely made up of white children whose working parents could afford after school program tuition. Most students of color rode the bus home to empty houses since parents were working, but did not make enough to cover the after school program tuition. In middle school my children rode the bus to and from school. In high school, they carpooled with older friends until, senior year at which time they drove their friends home in the car we purchased for them. The carpool line at the high school enrages me when I pass it. As you pointed out, some parents start waiting for dismissal 45 minutes before it begins. This line spills out onto the road which is a no parking zone. Parents sit in their idling cars blocking the right lane for as long as it takes to pick up their underclassmen children. No one gets a ticket and no attempt is ever made to prevent parents from stopping there. I am sorry to be so negative but having taught public school for 30 years, it's what I notice about yellow school buses. My love to all and no chastisement intended because my children clearly were children of white privilege. My love to all.