I saw this photo among the memes Gorges over at Gorges' Grouse that he posts daily and which I thoroughly enjoy. So I stole it. Gorges says it is OK with him.
The bus reminded me of a couple of stories told me by my Dad. He had, in the late 1930's or early 1940's, driven a school bus in the wilds of northern Minnesota. Dad had his own methods of dealing with problems that can arise among students on a bus ride.
Dad said there were two teenage boys on his bus route who couldn't seem to get through the ride home without fighting with one another. When "Don't make me come back there" no longer worked, Dad pulled the bus off to the side of the road, hauled both boys out of the bus and onto the grass along side. Then he told them to fight. When they just stood there looking dumbfounded, Dad proceeded to show them how to stand and how to position their arms in order to sock one another in the nose and repeated his order to fight. All the while, the rest of the kids on the bus were at the windows, laughing at the two would be fighters. Dad said the two boys, thoroughly humiliated, both climbed back on the bus, quietly sat down and never after gave him another minute's worth of trouble.
There was one bus rider who seemed to enjoy being a bully. He would do things like pick on the little girls until they cried or pinch the younger boys until they yelled. He would knock books from the hands of older students or taunt them with nasty remarks. And one afternoon, my Dad had just about enough of this kid.
After another bullying incident, Dad stopped the bus and set the kid off on the side of the road, telling him that because he wouldn't behave on the bus, he could walk the three quarters of a mile to his house.
Dad knew this kid's father and as he got to their farm, Dad stopped and had a word with the him, explaining why his son was walking and suggesting that he might want to wait for his son at the end of the driveway.
Now in those days, a trip to the woodshed was the usual punishment for an errant son, but Dad said he later heard that in addition to the woodshed, that kid spent all of his free time doing the nastiest chores on the farm. He mucked out the chicken house and the pig barn. He pulled weeds in their large garden. He hauled and stacked firewood. And when he next rode the bus and thereafter, he was the best behaved kid there.
Dad had a way of working out problems. I know. I spent many hours as a young girl, scrubbing and cleaning and weeding and pushing a lawnmower to pay for my transgressions. As an adult, I am grateful to have had a Father who cared enough to see to it that I understood right from wrong, even though at the time I wasn't exactly happy about the lessons.
I think if we had more parents willing to find solutions to their children's bad behavior, we wouldn't be adrift in a sea of precious little snowflakes today.
You're absolutely right, Vicki. It's not the kid's fault exactly, most do whatever they can get by with. It's the fault of the parents for not teaching limits.
ReplyDeleteGorges...Kids need boundaries. They also need consequences for actions. It is up to parents to provide both. Without both, we get snowflakes.
DeleteOur neighbor across the street was a school bus driver. Our street was one of those strange, bureaucratic borderlines. Literally, a kid who lived on the north side of the street was deemed far enough from the school, and could ride the bus. Those living on the south side of the street had to walk! The neighbor, in true New York fashion, said "Screw it; get on the bus!" Her weapon was the clutch. Kids got too loud? She'd pop the clutch and gas it; instant attention-getter. Kids didn't want to sit down? She'd pop the clutch, brake, and then gas it; instant flying kids! She put up with ZERO BS. Being right across the street, we got door-to-door service. being the last kids on the bus, my friends and I got the good side of "the clutch." The driver would find the best bumps in the road, and pop the clutch going over. ...Instant flying kids was a HOOT when you were ready for it! ...Good times...
ReplyDeleteUnfortunately, that bus driver would have ended up in court and then on a bread line if she did what she did today. That's half the problem; when the kids know the adults' hands are tied, they do what comes naturally... anything they want! I'm glad I'm done with that...
Pete...I would have absolutely loved to have had that bus driver when I was in high school!! But you are right. Some humorless judge would have put an end to the fun. Perhaps that's what is wrong in our country now. Our sense of humor is gone and we have forgotten how to just have fun.
DeleteOOOOOHHH my sense of humor is alive and well, Vicki. It's just been labeled "racist," "deplorable," and the rest. Somehow, pointing out the absurd in life, unless it's directed at a certain President, is now considered EEEEEVIIIILLLL. It's odd; growing up in New York, people bagged on each other mercilessly. I mean MERCILESSLY.
DeleteGiven the ethnic diversity of the Empire State, race and ethnicity ranked numbers one and two for joke fodder. Occasionally someone would cross the line, and the matter would be settled with fists and feet. The rest of the time though, we'd laugh until we lost continence, and reach for the next joke. Hell; even the ones that fought it out would usually make up and go on like nothing happened, knowing they reached the limit, and not going over that line again... at least with each other... What the hell has happened to this country???
...Did we have it good or what?
Pete...Growing up in Minnesota wasn't a whole lot different than your upbringing. We weren't as ethnically diverse, but having a fairly large Scandinavian population, Ole and Lena jokes abounded as did jokes about most anything else we could find to laugh about. And we had the ability to laugh at ourselves.
DeleteI think that political correctness changed all that. The perpetually offended took humor, crumpled it up and tossed it away. Our jokes were never meant to hurt anyone and we were able to take as good as we gave without coming to blows, mostly. But now, we are racist or evil or whatever other label the humorless offended wish to tack on us.
You are right. We had it good. We could laugh, joke and carry on at will. Which is probably why I enjoy side trips down Memory Lane now and then, back to a place where we were really free.
Sounds like your Dad could handle his job well. Today, though, he would lose his job!
ReplyDeleteLinda...Dad could handle most any problem that came his way. But you are right. His job would be gone today.
DeleteWe walked to and from school until High School and then only the first two weeks. Found out where the stop was and showed up. Never had to show paperwork. Red
ReplyDeleteRed...We walked the mile and a half to the two room country elementary school through the 8th grade, except for when the weather was really bad and then Mother drove us. Riding the bus began in 9th grade. Each rural driveway had a sigh post at the end with a series of letters and numbers on it. This was in case of fire, the fire department would be given those letters and numbers to pinpoint the location. My parents called the school and gave them that fire sign information to let them know where the bus needed to stop to pick us up. That was it. I am guessing today it is likely more complicated than that.
DeleteI'm happy that my children overall were pretty good kids. When the older ones were little, we lived in the city on a postage-stamp sized lot without a lot of opportunities for outside work and chores for children to do as they considered what could have been better choices. And I always liked to have the consequences fit the crime whenever possible.
ReplyDeleteWhen the "crime" involved not getting along well with siblings, the consequence was the most evil torture ever designed by someone who dared to call herself a mother (according to the kids). Pulling their fingernails out couldn't have been worse. It was called "love therapy".
The offenders would have to sit on the floor facing each other and hold both hands. They could not move until apologies were sincerely issued and they agreed to play nicely. Little girls whose feelings are hurt by their older brothers do not forgive so quickly or easily, and sometimes that love therapy lasted a whole ten minutes. A lifetime to a boy who was dying to get back to his friends. I think he would have preferred a spanking. Too bad he didn't have that kind of a mom to let him off so easily.
Jennifer...I love your solution to fighting kids. I wish I had thought of it. :)
DeleteMy biggest problem in having 4 kids within 6 years of age between them all, was that whenever something happened, they stuck together and would not rat out each other. But they all grew up to be good people and are still close, even living within easy driving distance of one another and of me. I guess it all works out in the end.
Amen, Vicki.
ReplyDeleteThanks, LindaG...Just one chubby grannie's opinion, but there it is. :)
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