School Bus Driver
The Overlooked Member of the Instructional Team
This is another story in Civic Way’s series highlighting public servants in America. Our last one focused on the County Court Clerk position. It is our hope that these stories will help readers understand the daily challenges facing public servants and gain a fuller appreciation of the importance of state and local government. The authors, Bruce Anderson and Bob Melville, have decades of management consulting experience working with governmental agencies across the US.Introducing the Job
Some bus drivers are employees and some contractors. In large urban districts, most bus drivers are employees. The typical full-time school bus driver works 32 to 40 hours a week. Their compensation typically includes a modest hourly wage (more than the minimum wage) and some benefits (e.g., medical insurance). Some school districts pay as much as $20 per hour. Bus drivers are unionized in some states, but not Right to Work states. In some rural districts, bus drivers are independent contractors, paid a flat hourly rate without benefits.
School bus drivers aren’t considered instructional personnel, but every day they are entrusted with the safety of over 25 million children. With limited growth potential, a school bus driver is more job than career. Many drivers only take the job to ease their transition to retirement or a better job (President Biden reportedly once served as a school bus driver while working his way through law school).
Still, the job has many requirements. A commercial vehicle operator license. Superb driving record. Basic first aid skills. An ability to maintain order on the bus. And it has many off-ramps like a failed drug test, a driving mishap, an avoidable driving accident or an altercation with an unruly student.
One Public Servant’s Story
Mary hears her alarm. 4:30 am is a godawful time to get up. After staring at the ceiling for a few moments, she gets out of bed and starts her daily ritual. Shower. Hair. Make-up. Clean, pressed uniform. A piece of toast. Hot coffee to go. Charged phone. Purse. Coat. Gloves. Hat. A vital routine to prepare for a day that is rarely routine.
Outside, the shape of her car emerges in the darkness. She starts the engine, turns the heat on full blast and steps outside to scrape the ice from the windshield. She gets back in, checks her mirrors, pulls out of the driveway and starts the 25-minute drive to work.
She signs in at the garage around 5:45 am. After taking a mandatory drug test, she remembers she has what she hopes will be a quick introductory meeting with her new supervisor. Her fifth supervisor in the nine years she’s been a school bus driver. She knocks on the supervisor’s door, enters, introduces herself and sits down in the chair facing her supervisor.
After a shopworn joke and an awkward pause, the supervisor launches into a canned homily. About the honor of joining such a valued team. Their sacred mission of safely transporting children to and from school. Boldly facing the challenges ahead. Thinking outside the box, pushing the envelope, breaking down silos and going forward.
Mary swallows hard and glances at the clock on the wall behind her supervisor. How long will this last? He begins to talk about himself and how excited he is to be joining the district. After nearly seven years in the private sector, mostly in logistics and distribution, he adds that he welcomes the opportunity to bring his unique experience and new ideas to the public sector.
She keeps her eyes trained on her supervisor’s face, but allows her thoughts to wander. She remembers her deceased husband, a long-time (and revered) employee of the district. She thinks about her current husband, a military veteran with deteriorating health. She thinks about her schedule, how being late could cost her job. When the supervisor’s secretary knocks, Mary seizes the moment. She rises, announces that her students await, thanks her supervisor for the introduction and escapes.
She walks briskly to her locker, thinking about her new supervisor. He probably means well, but has a lot to learn. Will he be like so many other administrators who look down on the drivers? Or will he listen to the drivers and welcome their input? Wait and see.
She opens her locker door and scans the contents. She grabs some items for the bus, a seat cushion, a snow brush, some anti-bacterial wipes and a box of disposable face masks. Since overcast skies are predicted, she decides to leave her sunglasses behind.
She walks to the garage to find her assigned bus. Before she can take it on the road, she must verify that her bus is in safe, working order. She runs through the checklist. Ice on the windshield, mirrors or headlights? None. Clean exterior and interior? Good. Working headlights? Check. Windshield wipers operable? Yes. Windshield wiper fluid? Low.
Mary asks Joseph in Maintenance to add the fluid. After watching him refill the fluid, she asks, “You don’t see a crack in the reservoir, do you?”
Joseph assures Mary, “No, it just hasn’t been filled in a while, probably not since the last time you asked.”
The checklist complete, Mary is ready to drive her first route of the day. Mary’s workday has two parts. Before and after lunch. In the morning, from 7 am to 9 am, she has two routes, one for high school students and a second for middle school students. In the afternoon, from 2 pm to 4 pm, she also has two routes, one from the high school and the other from middle school.
As she leaves the garage, Mary thinks about her supervisor. He thinks he’s in charge, but a school bus driver has many bosses. Garage managers. Dispatchers. Mechanics. Other drivers. Students. Parents. Teachers. School administrators. Mary’s survival depends on pleasing them all. Regardless of the weather or road conditions, the bus must arrive every day on time and without incident.
Mary likes the first morning route. Synchronized traffic lights, wide, well-maintained and well-lit roads, few left-hand turns and fewer hills. The only drawback is rush hour drivers. They are in a hurry, too often distracted and erratic. She must be extra cautious and anticipate mistakes.
Mary thinks about the students on the first route. Mostly freshmen and sophomores, but a few juniors and seniors. A bit subdued at first, but somewhat more lively after they wake up and warm up. Some talk, others scan their smartphones and a few quietly look out the windows. None of them really see Mary, let alone connect with her. She is just a middle-aged woman who drives them to school.
At the first stop, Mary opens the door and greets her first students of the day. She has gotten to know the students, not necessarily their names, but their faces, mannerisms and habits. She knows which ones are punctual and which ones aren’t. She knows which ones are trouble.
She watches the mirror to make sure her first passengers are seated safely. Before pulling away, she lingers to see if any more are running to catch the bus. Mary has a 30-second rule. If she doesn’t think the runner will reach the bus in 30 seconds, she closes the door and leaves. Hopefully, Mary reasons, the runner will learn a lesson about the importance of showing up on time.
After a few uneventful stops, Mary stops to pick up four teens. She recognizes three, but not the fourth. She welcomes the first three students, but asks the unfamiliar one to wait. While someone is supposed to inform her of any new students, it didn’t happen this time. Instead, Mary must challenge the teenager trying to board the bus, “And you are?”
“I’m Tyler Wilson. I’m a junior.”
“Why are you taking the bus today?” asked Mary.
“I usually get a ride from my mom, but I was at Jack’s house last night to work on a project.”
Mary turns to Jack who confirms Tyler’s statement with a nod. Mary tells Jack to take a seat. Mary then checks Tyler’s student ID and her tablet to verify his enrollment. After a minute or so, Mary concludes that Tyler is no security threat and tells him to take a seat. Mary doesn’t like this part of her job, but knows that one incident involving an unauthorized student could mean losing it.
Mary checks her tablet again. The digital route tracking system compares her location to the time. She smiles. She will complete the first route on schedule.
Mary starts her second route. It mirrors the first route, but with two differences. Mary will be picking up middle school students and some will be accompanied by their parents. Less mature kids and more attentive parents. The slightest slip-up can complicate Mary’s life. Falling behind schedule. Making an off-hand remark. Failing to lift a hand to help a student. She will hear about it.
Just last month, Mary received a complaint (from a parent through the school principal) that she failed to offer adequate assistance to a student with crutches and an ankle cast. Since then, Mary, has physically helped the boy climb into and out of the bus. The choice between aggravating her own knee on the steps and getting another complaint is an easy one.
Just three stops before dropping her students off at the middle school, Mary encounters a minor accident. The two lanes and turning lane are reduced to one lane. Mary frets that the delay may make her late. Her students would require passes to excuse their tardiness. She would have to meet with her supervisor again. Fortunately, the delay evaporates and they arrive at school only slightly behind schedule (but within the allowable scheduling cushion).
After wishing her passengers a good day and watching them leave the bus, Mary pulls the bus out of the drop off lane and heads for the garage. It is nearby and the traffic is light. She pulls the bus into the lot, carefully backs into an approved slot and turns off the engine. After a short stop at her locker, she heads to the lunchroom and sits down to chat with a few other drivers.
Mary cherishes this time of the day. Between the last morning route and first afternoon route, she is free. On some days, she stays at work to read or runs errands nearby. Today, she is taking her husband to the VA for a medical appointment. His treatments usually take less than 90 minutes so she should be back in time for her afternoon route. She eats her lunch while waiting for her husband.
Mary takes her husband home, helps him inside and returns to the garage. She notices the sky’s growing darkness. Rain is predicted for the afternoon, but no snow or ice. For once, the forecast appears right.
The afternoon routes offer a few wrinkles. One is less predictable ridership. Extracurricular activities like sports and afternoon appointments like doctor visits can play havoc with the schedule. Mary may know which students are supposed to be on the bus, but that doesn’t mean she always knows who will actually show.
Another change is the route itself. Her afternoon routes traverse dramatically different neighborhoods than do the morning routes. Smaller houses and lots. Shallower lawns. Narrower streets with more potholes. Shorter drives between stops.
Finally, the kids are markedly different on the afternoon routes. Louder. More energetic. More engaged. More volatile. Some with more attitude. Ironically, Mary feels a greater connection with the afternoon students. All in all, a more memorable route than the morning route.
Mary leaves the garage and arrives at the high school. Only one other bus is ahead of her. She waits until the bell rings and watches the students rush to the buses. She greets every student as they file on board and watches them take their seats. She notices that three of her regulars have not arrived and asks their friends about them. All three have after-school commitments. She remains parked until the scheduled departure time.
The afternoon high school route passes quickly. Some students keep to themselves, but most students share words, jokes, insults and gossip. Some flirt. Some play music. The noise can be deafening. On some days, Mary feels like she’s driving a busload of inmates released from prison with sugar highs.
Mary stops at a light and looks back in her mirror. One boy and girl sit next to each other holding hands and exchanging long glances. She then sees two kids up and out of their seats. She warns them to take their seats. They stare at her, as if seeing her for the first time, but remain standing. She warns them to take their seats or she will pull over until they do. They sit.
At every stop, a few students depart without incident. Mary says good-bye, but every student exits with little more than a nod. She watches them until the doors close, walking away wearing earbuds or engrossed with their smartphones. She knows they have little (if any) curiosity about her life, but she wonders about their futures. She says good-bye to the last passenger and drives to the middle school.
At the middle school, it starts to pour. The kids getting on the bus are soaked. As Mary welcomes them, she notices them dripping water on the aisle, making it slippery. She cautions the kids to be careful and reminds them to stay in their seats. She begins her last route of the day.
Shortly after pulling away from the middle school, Mary notices a lot of chatter among the students. After turning onto a primary street, the diffused noise gives way to a sharper argument between two students. One, Mary recalls, is Brandon, an over-sized, aggressive and previously-suspended 8th grader. The other, Michael, is a smaller, more reserved 7th grader. At the next few stops, students seem almost relieved to depart. The shouting escalates and becomes more profanity-laced.
Mary watches the road, but tries to monitor the situation behind her. At the coming stop, Mary plans to park the bus and intervene. But, before she gets there, she hears the sounds she hoped to prevent, thrown objects and punches.
She immediately pulls the bus to the side of the road, grabs her keys, straightens her posture and strides down the aisle. Before she can get to the melee, three or four students vacate their seats and head for the exit. Mary, seeing her way blocked, says sternly and loudly, “Stay in your seats.”
Mary finally gets there to find the two boys separated, perhaps by other students. Brandon is sitting across the aisle from Michael. Both are sporting evidence of a minor scrap, flushed faces, a torn jacket, disheveled clothing. Neither looks seriously hurt.
“What’s going on?” demands Mary, hands on her hips.
“Nothing” stammers Brandon. Michael just stares at the ceiling, catching his breath. Both avoid looking Mary in the eyes. The other students say nothing, but look to Mary for the next move.
Mary glares at Brandon and then Michael, “Are either of you hurt?”
Brandon and Michael, now looking at the floor, shake their heads.
Mary continues, “You guys are really lucky nobody got hurt. You could have hurt each other or even caused an accident. I should report this to the district.”
Mary races through her options. If she reports it, there will be interminable follow-up interviews and paperwork. Administrators will descend on her. The protagonists and their parents will be questioned. If she treats it as an unreportable incident, she could be allowing a minor dispute to fester into a more serious problem. Worse, she could be missing a chance to help save one of her kids.
Every student looks at Mary in silence. She looks at them and then back at Brandon and Michael. With a steady, commanding voice, she warns, “I won’t tolerate this kind of foolishness in the future. If it happens again on my bus, I will report you and you will have to deal with the consequences.”
The rest of the drive is mostly quiet. After Brandon gets off the bus, Mary hears one of the students say loudly, “Brandon gave us the finger.” Mary shakes her head. She knows that Brandon bears watching.
At the last stop, Michael gets up to exit the bus. As he passes by Mary, she asks him to stop. He turns to look at her and she says quietly, “Michael, I know you’re better than this…”. Michael smiles grimly and is gone.
Returning to the garage, Mary encounters some traffic congestion, but clear skies. When stopping at traffic lights, she hears some squeaking, probably from the brakes. She returns the bus to its designated parking space by 4:10 pm.
She walks the full length of the bus to find any articles left behind. No surprises. Empty or half full water bottles, a granola bar wrapper, some crumpled-up homework and one knit glove. She takes the glove to the Lost and Found bin at the garage.
At her locker, she uses the apps on her tablet to enter her notes for the day. On the maintenance app, she requests checking the brakes and removing any excess water. On the incident management app, she notes a borderline confrontation, but does not report the altercation between Brandon and Michael. On her way out, she talks briefly with a few other drivers.
By 4:30 pm, Mary is in her car and on her way home. She thinks about her day and wonders if she could have done anything differently. She believes she did her best, but cannot help but worry about Brandon. Is he a bully? Why is he so angry? Will he learn to control it? What is his family situation? What if he really needs help? Should she talk to someone in the district about him?
After nine years as a school bus driver, Mary understands what most people do not. For many students, the bus ride to and from school is part of the school experience. It gives students a chance to socialize outside of the classroom. It also offers an opportunity for young minds to learn about important values, such as promptness, self-discipline and respect.
Mary decides to trust her instincts about Brandon. She can’t just let it go. If Brandon makes another mistake, especially one he can’t take back, she would never forgive herself. She won’t tell her new supervisor, but she has a friend in student services who could be helpful.
Tomorrow, she will call her friend and see what the district can do for Brandon.
She starts thinking about dinner and the evening ahead. She calls her husband to tell him she is on the way. After a pleasant evening, the morning alarm will come soon enough.
Recapping the Organization
There are about 15,000 school systems in America, of which nearly 90 percent are school districts. In some states, school districts receive some degree of oversight from cities or counties. In most states, school districts are independent governmental entities. In nearly all states, school districts are governed by state laws and regulations and receive most of their funding from state and local sources.
Most school districts have school buses. About 55 percent of the nation’s K-12 students ride the bus to school. Every year, school districts deliver 10 billion student rides and spend about $22 billion on pupil transportation. Every day, over 500,000 yellow buses travel our roads. While there are a variety of operational models for operating pupil transportation systems, none would work without the school bus driver.