About Boys and Buses

My husband and I have 4 kids.  The oldest is 17.  For years, until he reached high school, I drove him to a small private school 10 minutes away.  The time in the car was sweet.  I had him captive for just a few minutes to anticipate a day or to talk about the day just passed.  But it was, I will admit, a bit of a relief to let him ride the public school bus when he started high school—he, not I, was now responsible to get to school and back.

He is now a senior and complains that no one rides the bus when they become juniors and seniors—“mom, kids drive their own cars to school,” he claims.  Of course, I don’t fall for this complaint at first.  “Oh, so you are the only senior who rides the bus—poor you,” I fight back.

As it turns out though, I think my son is telling the truth.  He is one of the only seniors, if not the only one, who rides his bus home from school.  Many many kids drive or have their parents pick them up.  Perhaps there are good reasons for this –maybe bullying or time constraints a bus puts upon a student?  But I suspect there are other reasons, reasons I don’t buy.

Could it be that students want to do their own thing? They don’t want to wait for a bus. They don’t want the inconvenience of getting home ½ hour later than they would if they drove a car. They don’t want to talk to “those people” on a bus?  They crave comfort, and riding a bus is not always comfortable.

My husband and I have said “no” to giving my 17-year-old a car to drive to school just for his own convenience.  We told him and his younger brother that riding the bus is a ministry—they are to be leaders of good on the bus.  They are to look for people to help.  They have a responsibility to talk with people who no one wants to talk to.  They are to help their bus driver when he has a hard time.

If riding the bus makes them feel low or unpopular, then that’s a good feeling for them to experience. Welcome to an imperfect struggling world where you are not the star.

Recently my boys’ bus driver sent us a thank you note.  He thanked my boys for a tennis racket they gave him to help his puppy learn to fetch tennis balls in his pasture.  He also said some very kind things about my boys, like “their positive presence, smiles, and politeness . . . brighten my day whenever they are on my bus.”  He said it was a “pleasure and privilege” to know two fine young men like them.

I hope this doesn’t come off like I’m bragging about my boys because I’m not meaning to brag.  I write this essay almost as a wish.  I wish other parents would say “no” to their 16-year-olds having cars for convenience sake.  I wish teenagers would talk to each other, ask each other about their days, and find out who their neighbors are.  I wish they would care about their bus driver.  I wish they would ask him about his dog.