The Short Bus

At 7:15 every morning, one of us grabs the backpack, and the other grabs the cutest three-year-old in the world. It goes without saying that the loser in this daily game gets the backpack. We carry our little child down the mildly sloping pavement that bisects the front yard. As we approach the sidewalk, the doors swing open welcoming us to a special place – the short bus.

I was a little hesitant the first day that we had to put Audrey on the bus because I rode the bus in junior high, and I don’t have many fond memories of those trips. I rode the bus with “normal” students, but my experience wasn’t as pleasant as Audrey’s. My daily entrance on the bus was met with a blast of nicotine and profanity from the bus driver, and most of my rides were spent dodging projectiles thrown at my head and insults thrown at my mother. (Note: None of the kids on that bus actually met my mother, it’s just that “Your Momma” jokes were prevalent in junior high during that era).

I was hesitant to put Audrey on the bus, but not as concerned as Michelle. She followed the bus to school in the van on Audrey’s first day because that’s what Momma Bear does. Our children might lack some things in life, but protection won’t be one of them

The short bus is a place most of society seems to look down on if not mock insultingly. I’ve been hearing short bus jokes since I was a kid. I googled “short bus” to see if society had evolved in its understanding of this particular subculture of students. Not so much. One article actually used the phrase “mentally retarded.” They say ignorance is bliss. Ignorance is also ignorant. One entry said, “Generally, the short bus is a smaller version of a regular school bus that carries mentally challenged students to school.” The only mentally challenged person in that particular article is the writer.

Instead of mentally challenged students, I see a community whose attitude should spread throughout society far past the walls of the bus. No matter the hour or the weather, the official greeter/driver always welcomes us with a smile and a friendly “Good Morning” with such genuineness and consistency that if this were corporate America it would seem like he was paid a commission for every friendly greeting. But on the short bus, it’s just the self-induced imperative of a genuinely good person. I know he doesn’t get paid much to do this, and there are probably people in society that look down on him, too. Those people store up treasures on earth, he’s storing up treasures in heaven.

As we walk up the steps of the bus, where are met with another “Good morning” from our daughter’s daily seatmate. He waves with his right hand as his left hand helps loosen the shoulder strap for Audrey. Poor kid has been before the crack of dawn, but he always greets Audrey with a smile and a helping hand.

The bus picks up Audrey at 7:15, and she is the last kid picked up every day. That means that some of these kids get picked up around 6:30, maybe even earlier. That’s tough for a kid. It’s hard enough knowing that you have some disability that put you on the bus that society looks down upon, but they have to wake up earlier than the “normal” kids their age to make sure they get on the bus on time. The only kids that aren’t welcoming and helpful when we arrive are the ones who are asleep. They have to get up so early that they use the bus ride to get a little extra sleep that in a perfect world they would’ve gotten in the comfort of their own bed.

And yet, I never hear any complaints, and I never see any frowns.

If Audrey weren’t on the bus route, it would probably cut 20 minutes off the daily voyage for the bus driver. I’m guessing most people in his situation would be happy to hear that a kid like Audrey wouldn’t be riding the bus anymore. Hey, less work for me. Well, we are moving in a few weeks, and that means that Audrey will be on a different bus. When the bus driver found out, he told us he was sad and was going to find a way to still see Audrey.

For most people in society, the short bus is just a punchline to an insult.

For me, it’s a community of people who genuinely care about each other – A microcosm of what the world should be.