School Spirit

School Spirit
By: K.H. Sargeant


         I see it everyday in the halls and the classrooms.  The kids don’t care.  Education is a joke to those who know everything.  This is the great “Time Out” generation where a disciplinary swat on the butt became child abuse.  We mustn’t discipline, that might hurt the child’s self-esteem.  So, what did that get us?  A bunch of criminals with high opinions of themselves.  I look at their eyes and I can see they are just a C.O.V. waiting to happen.  C.O.V.?  Sorry, it means change of venue.  When violent criminals ask their trials to be moved because too many people in the area know the real them, and what they are capable of.
         You can see in their eyes that no one has authority over them.  Most times, not even their parents.  They are laws unto themselves and rules do not apply.  I watch teachers struggle to teach the few who want to learn.  They are out there, too, but they get lost in the disruptions and disciplines that teachers have to stop for.  People refuse to believe that you cannot teach those who do not want to learn.  For those teachers that continue to try, it’s like trying to fill a sieve with a thimble.
         I do the best I can.  I try to help put out as many fires as I come across. Taking rubber band shooters and lighters.  I even come across the occasional knife.  Those, I don’t touch, I just lead administration to them and pray hard that they do the right thing.  That they don’t let that horrible, awful incident repeat itself.  What?  You hadn’t heard of it?  It happened about two years ago.  Have a seat, I’ll explain.  It all started on one of the buses…


         Bethany watched the bus come into the parking lot with dread.  Route Six.  And from the look on the driver’s face, it was already a morning from hell.  The bus pulled around behind the others and stopped, and Bethany started walking toward it.
         “Please, God, not this morning.” she pleaded as the door opened.  The haggard bus driver shook her head.
         “You have got to do something with him!” she demanded desperately. “He won’t listen, he won’t sit in his seat, he’s constantly screaming to the back of the bus.  I can’t safely do my job because I’m spending more time watching him than the road!”
         “Write him up.  I’ll be back.” Bethany sighed, stepping up into the bus.  She motioned to the boy in the front seat.  “Let’s go, James.”
         “No!” he bellowed, turning sideways to grin at the kids behind him.
         “Come on, James.  Just get off the bus.”
         “I don’t have to do shit you say, bitch.” he laughed, crossing his arms over his chest.  Bethany raised her walkie-talkie.
         “Mrs. Goodness, I need you to come take a student off Route Six.”
         “Who is this?” a crisp voice demanded from the box.
         “It’s Bethany, and I need your assistance.” The whole bus was watching, now, looking from Bethany’s frustrated face to James’ triumphant grin.
         “I am busy right now.  If he’s not being violent, leave him on the bus.” Mrs. Goodness snapped.
         ‘No, ma’am.  He is causing problems, yelling, swearing, being disrespectful to the driver and to me.  I will not leave him on this bus!”  Bethany let go of the button, biting back tears of frustration.
         “See?” James crowed.  “Can’t nobody do nothing to me!  I got Goodness wrapped right here!” He thrust his pinky into the air.
         “What is the trouble makers name?” the radio demanded, and Bethany took a deep breath.
         “James Black.”  The radio went deathly silent for a long time.  The driver pressed the write up into Bethany’s hand.  James’ eyes narrowed.
         “Fuck you, bitch.  I’m bout tired of your ass, anyway!” he snarled.  “I’m gonna fix both you bitches, but good!”
         “Bethany, I want to see you in my office as soon as your buses are unloaded.’  the radio crackled.  The school bell rang and Bethany shook her head in disgust.
         “Everybody off!” she ordered, going back down the steps.  James was the last to exit the bus amid grins and high fives, then he and his friends sauntered toward the school.  Bethany looked up at the driver and sighed. “I’m sorry.  I am trying.”
         “Everyday, he gets worse.  That’s the fifteenth write up I’ve done on him and it’s not even the sixth week of school!” the driver cried.  “I can’t bring my kid to work because James’ has threatened him, and my kids a second grader for Christ’s sake!”
         “I know.  I’ve asked her to review the bus tapes and I’ve asked her to come see for herself how they act.  She’s always too busy.” Bethany snorted, derisively.  “I hope your day goes better.”
         “Yeah, see you this afternoon.”

         Bethany settled into the wingback chair in front of Mrs. Goodness’ desk.  The write up lay in front of her on the pristine table top.  Betty Goodness picked it up, perused it quickly, and set it aside.
         “I am quite troubled by this whole Route Six situation.” she snapped and Bethany relaxed.  Finally, Mrs. Goodness was going to intercede.  “I want to know just why you and the driver have it in James.  Why are you picking on him?”  Bethany’s jaw dropped open in shock.
         “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she said, numbly.
         “No.  I’ve spoken to James several times and he assures me that he is only reacting behaviorally to you and the driver picking on him.”  Mrs. Goodness sat back, hands folded on the edge of the desk.
         “I have been doing buses for four years, now,” Bethany said slowly, “and I have never been accused of having it in for any student.”
         “Well,” Goodness snapped, “there’s a first time for everything, now, isn’t there?”
         “This is unbelievable.  You won’t back the drivers or the supervisors.  Why do we even bother?”  Bethany demanded angrily.  “Instead , you take the word of a kid whose discipline file is three folders thick!  We don’t need a savior, Betty!  We need backup!”
         “Bethany, I will not punish him for reacting to your unfair persecution!” Mrs. Goodness roared, lurching to her feet.  Bethany stood, her body trembling with rage and frustration.
         “I can see, oh Saint Goodness, Savior of middle school children, that you will sit on your ass and do nothing until this escalates past your disciplinary jurisdiction!  That kid is going to cause a bus wreck and or do some serious damage to someone!  And you are going to coddle him right into the gas chamber!”  Bethany snarled, then stormed out the door.


         Bethany went on with her day in a fog of dread, knowing that James, having gotten away with his morning performance would be in rare form that afternoon.  Sure enough, when it came time for the buses to leave, Route Six pulled over and turned on the hazard lights.  Bethany could hear the yelling as she approached the bus and the door swung open with a forceful snap.  Bethany mounted the steps to confront James, who was standing in the aisle, glaring.
         “He won’t sit down and he threatened to beat the shit out of Anthony!”
         “James, stop this nonsense.  You aren’t going to beat up anyone.  Just let her take you home.” Bethany said.
         “I don’t have to do nothing that punk ass bitch says!”  James declared with a laugh.
         “Off the bus, James.” Bethany ordered.  He got up in her face, his chest thrusting against hers.
         “Fuck you!” he yelled.  Bethany raised the radio, stepping back.
         “I need security to the South end buses.” Bethany called.
         “You sure as shit do, bitch!”
The knife blade glinted in his fist, and Bethany felt a tug on the front of her shirt.  At first, she thought he’d just caught the fabric, but then a stinging crept across her stomach.  Warm blood gushed across Bethany’s stomach and the driver screamed, grabbed her own radio and screamed into it for help.  Bethany stumbled down the steps in disbelief, sinking to the cold concrete, her fingers slipping across her intestines.  The walkie-talkie squawked on the ground beside her.
“Bethany, what is this about?” snapped Mrs. Goodness.  “If this is about Route Six…”  Bethany wasn’t listening anymore.  She watched in slow motion as Dana, the other bus supervisor ran toward her.  Vaguely, she could hear screaming and crying behind her, and the faint sound of Dana’s voice on the radio.
“Oh, my God! Bethany’s been stabbed!  There’s blood everywhere!  Somebody help me!!!”
Suddenly, everyone was there.  Administrators, security, and paramedics from the station on the corner.  Betty Goodness was screaming at the policemen that had James against the hood of their car not to hurt him.
“He’s just been through a terrible trauma!  He was provoked!”
Bethany looked up at Dana through clouded eyes and grabbed hold of her friend with a bloody hand.
“Is she fucking kidding?”


Bethany?  Oh, I died on the way to the hospital.  Goodness finally watched the bus tapes: In court.  She testified for James.  Luckily, the jury wasn’t as gullible as she was.  James is doing hard time.  Goodness?  She’s still an administrator, still trying to save the children that are already lost.  Oh, my!  The bell’s about to ring!  I have to get to buses.  Forgive my rudeness, I hate doing this, but I’m going to have to go through the wall if I’m going to get out to help Dana in time.
Good bye.