Bus Drivers We Have Known
There was Mr. Richard, who had a disabled brother; at least a dozen special needs (many autistic) kids were on his bus (and no bus matron). There was the older woman from Russia who told me “your driveway is not convenient for me” and “my eyes are not good.” There were the two women, both grandmothers, who drove a beat-up burgundy minivan and whose saris were made of heavy brocades in the winter, and lighter fabrics when spring came (sometimes a little girl rode in the front passenger seat). There was Miss Linda, who greeted Charlie with a “Come on in, Charlie” and—even after she had been told that we had moved back in September—-still drove by where we used to live, just to be sure that Charlie did not need a ride. Now it’s Miss Valerie, who is quite insistent on Charlie getting right on the bus and immediately off, and always on time.
Charlie first rode the bus when he was 4 years old. We had just moved back to New Jersey from St. Louis, Missouri, and it was the beginning of June, 2001: Jim got on to seatbelt Charlie in and we both stood in the parking lot in front of our condo and waved him off, Jim remarking that this was the beginning of many more rides on the yellow school bus (until Charlie finishes school…..). Today’s Chicago Tribune has a story about the friendship that has developed over five years between 14 year old Emilie Lindberg and a 53-year-old cabbie Joe Cinelli. Eight bus drivers drove Emilie to Giant Steps Illinois Inc. but “none could handle Emilie’s meltdowns.”
Cinelli remembers driving down the expressway with Emilie screaming to have her shoe tied, forcing him to pull over to meet her demand and calm her down. He also recalls scolding her for fiddling with the emergency button on the cab computer. She was “violent and had to have it her way,” he added.
But he stuck around.
“We knew things would go well with Joe when he said that this was the first time he has been hit by a woman,” said Kathi Reese, Emilie’s grandmother. “He was not walking out on us. He was taking it in stride.”
As Cinelli spent more time with Emilie, he learned what to say to grab her attention and how to get her to stop crying. He learned he could put a smile on her face by tuning in to Radio Disney or, around Christmas, to a station that plays carols.
Emilie matured, her meltdowns became less frequent and she came to understand that she can’t always have what she wants.
“Am I good today?” she often asks Cinelli in the cab, because she now recognizes the difference between good and bad behavior.
I’ve often felt a bit of a twinge watching Charlie board the bus: Here I am, sending him out on the road (and, in previous years, on the highway) with someone who we really don’t know and who has not had a lot of training about how to handle really difficult behaviors. (Once I went running after the burgundy minivan because I could see Charlie aiming his head at the window.) Occasional reports of special needs children left on schoolbuses for hours (in the heat of summer or the cold of winter) can only add to parental concerns. And parents of autistic adults have been telling me that getting transportation to take their children from home to work or to a day center is a huge struggle (and getting it funded, another mountain to climb).
Getting there is at least half the effort.
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POSTED IN: Friendship, Schoolbus
7 opinions for Bus Drivers We Have Known
Susan Etlinger
Jan 19, 2008 at 2:27 pm
I love Mr. Cinelli. THAT to me is the way it needs to be: ordinary people who meet our kids halfway, or a bit more.
Autismville
Jan 19, 2008 at 2:27 pm
Thanks for sharing this wonderful story from the Trib.
Jack is 4 and his current school is 40 miles from home. I just can’t bring myself to put him on the bus. (I suppose “can’t” isn’t the proper word…If I had to, I would and I’m sure he would be just fine…)
Fortunately the school is relocating 20 miles closer next month, which will really help. Even then, I’m still planning on driving him. I really like interacting with the staff upon arrival and departure. And of course, I feel prepared to handle whatever sort of meltdown might occur while in transit. We hold hands in the car. I turn lights on and off per his request. He naps. I gaze at his sweet face in the rearview.
No right or wrong answer on this one. Admititedly, I’m a control freak. I’m also fortunate to have the sort of schedule where I am able to drive him. Many times, that’s just not possible.
ange
Jan 19, 2008 at 3:05 pm
two years ago we were carrying a thrashing bubba on to the bus as he kicked and screamed. It was awful. Fast forward to 2 years later, we have done our best to meet his needs, slowly increasing his independence as he shows the desire to try things on his own. And now he is walking to and from the bus with me peeking from the foggy storm door. Occasionally I have to jut out there to redirect him if he is distracted by the cool frost on the grass or windows of the car in our driveway. His bus driver this year has the most wonderful heart. She doesn’t question his need for the special ed bus or treat him like he is special ed student. She just treats him like Bubba. He needs assitance, then it’s his. If he needs to exert his independence, then so be it. I love that he has people like that in his life.
Lolasmom
Jan 19, 2008 at 3:28 pm
Oh, this brought back memories! It was nearly a year ago when I put Lola on the bus for the first time. She was not yet 3, and was heading to school for the first time. The administrators convinced me that the bus was the way to go and was the best way to handle mommy-school transitions. At the time, Lola had a lot of separation anxiety and she was hardly ever passed off to anyone other than aunts and grandparents. Here I was, handing her off to total strangers, while she screamed, kicked, and cried. I nearly threw up from the guilt and anxiety, and I hurried to the school with every intention on rescuing her. I instead watched a calm (if somewhat shell-shocked) Lola exit the bus, hand-in-hand with an aide, who then passed Lola off to her new teacher. Lola never cried when she got on the bus again. That was just one of many moments where Lola has far exceeded my (everyone’s, really) expections. I have learned to never underestimate her abilities and fortitude.
Linda
Jan 19, 2008 at 3:49 pm
A good reminder to formally acknowledge and thank the support people in our children’s lives who make such a huge difference and give so much and often so underpaid.
A letter to their supervisor at the end of the year with a copy to the Sped. Director (or comparable title) is HUGE. Let them know how much they are appreciated.
Daisy
Jan 20, 2008 at 4:32 pm
Many years ago, when we were newlyweds, I drove a small school bus. One of the children on my route had autism and was nonverbal — and was a delightful young man. I wonder if he was sent to my route for a reason…
Kristina Chew, PhD
Jan 20, 2008 at 4:55 pm
Do you know what happened to him?
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