The School Bus Is Rolling Again

You can learn a lot about a community by watching what happens before most people settle into their day.

At 4th and Buerkle, I watched a volunteer crossing guard take position as children and families moved through the morning traffic. There was nothing flashy about it. Just someone standing where she was needed, watching the cars, watching the children, and helping make sure everybody crossed safely.

Watching her, I began thinking about the things she might need on an ordinary school morning—especially when Arkansas weather decides not to cooperate. I promised her a cart, a backpack, and umbrellas she can keep available for children on rainy days. It was a small need I could see with my own eyes, and one we could actually do something about. The corner is supported by a family who volunteered a bench in their front yard for “our” children.

Then there was another scene.

At Huron and Maple, I watched four parents standing with their kindergarteners, phones in hand, frantically calling the school because there was confusion about the bus stops. They were extremely concerned. They wanted answers, but more importantly, they wanted to make sure their children were safe and exactly where they were supposed to be. They were involved!

Two different corners.

Two different situations.

But I saw the same thing happening at both.

Adults were paying attention.

And when it comes to our children, paying attention matters.

Those parents weren’t looking for trouble. They were engaged parents trying to get clarity during the inevitable adjustments that come with the beginning of a school year.

That’s an important distinction.

It’s easy to look at a group of concerned parents and see complaints. Look again. Sometimes what you’re actually seeing is involvement.

A parent asking a question may prevent another family from experiencing the same confusion. A volunteer standing at an intersection may notice a safety concern others have overlooked. A teacher may recognize that a child isn’t behaving like themselves. A bus driver may realize something about a student’s routine has changed.

None of these actions seem extraordinary.

But communities aren’t built only through extraordinary actions.

They’re built by people who notice.

We call this time of year “back to school,” but the more I watch what happens around town, the more I realize children don’t simply go back to school.

An entire community goes back to work for its children.

Bus drivers learn routes. Teachers prepare classrooms. Cafeteria workers prepare meals. Custodians prepare buildings. Administrators solve problems. Parents adjust schedules. Volunteers take their places. School employees answer questions, and sometimes the same question several times, because families are trying to understand new routines.

And yes, there will be confusion.

A route may need adjusting. A parent may misunderstand an instruction. A child may stand at the wrong corner. Something that looked perfectly clear on paper may work differently once hundreds of families begin moving through the system.

That’s not necessarily evidence that nobody cares.

Sometimes it’s simply evidence that a new school year has begun.

The question isn’t whether every morning will be perfect.

The question is what we do when it isn’t.

Do we blame first?

Or do we communicate?

Do we dismiss concerns?

Or do we listen?

Do we stand across from one another?

Or do we remember that we’re standing on the same side when the well-being of our children is involved?

One day, those kindergarteners standing at Huron and Maple will be grown.

They may become the teachers, business owners, healthcare workers, city employees, pastors, parents, volunteers, and leaders who determine what kind of community comes next.

They’re watching us already.

And perhaps one of the first lessons we can teach them has nothing to do with reading or arithmetic.

We can show them what happens when people care enough to notice, speak up respectfully, listen carefully, and work together until the problem is solved.

The crossing guard matters.

The parents matter.

The bus driver matters.

The school matters.

And most of all, the children matter.

That’s what Around Town is becoming about: seeing our community, telling its stories, connecting its people, and amplifying the good work already happening around us.

DrFaye Pastor Coach™ | Author | Speaker | Host of Around Town with DrFaye | Chief Fundability Officer, The Fundability Institute