The Cone of Shame.
One of the key ingredients of being able to handle a school bus cover driver position is flexibility. Many times I show up for work and have no idea what I will be doing that morning or afternoon. Such was the case when I reported for work one morning and found out that I would be doing a route that needed to leave in about 5 minutes. Since that meant there would not be time to do a pre-trip inspection on the bus, I would need to use a different bus that was ready to go. With keys and route book in hand, I hurried off to the far side of the lot where we keep our spare busses.
Arriving at the bus I climbed on board completely oblivious of the safety cone that was a few feet behind the bus protecting a drain grate that was cracked. Once inside, I started the engine, checked the mirrors and off I went to heroically get students to their respective schools. I got to my first stop close to on time and took them up to their middle school. Everything was going well. I was heading to my next stop to pick up students to take to the high school. Suddenly, over the radio came the voice of my beloved dispatcher. It had been reported that some students on another bus had seen something dragging under my bus.
It can't be me, I thought. Everything is fine, the bus is driving fine. They must have the wrong bus. I am not sure of the words that I used but that is pretty much what I told the dispatcher. Because she was not as sure as I was, she said that I needed to pull the bus over and look underneath. I said okay, knowing this would be a waste of time. The only place I could find was along the main street of Troutdale, one of the communities in our district. It was just after 7am so there were no cars in the parking spaces. I pulled over and got out to look under the bus. To my amazement, there was something orange under my bus. It was the safety cone I had not noticed earlier. But there it was, easy to see but hard to reach. I ended up crawling under the bus and grabbing the cone. It would not budge. After a few minutes of pushing pulling and twisting it finally came loose, very much the worse for wear. It seems that safety cones are not made to be dragged for miles under a school bus. I wasn't sure what to do with this well worn cone so I threw it into the storage compartment.
Having removed the evidence of my crime, I jumped in the bus and headed for my first high school stop. Everything was fine now, except for the thoughts in my head. How could I have done that? Maybe I was not meant to be a school bus driver?
I even thought about the time in 7th grade I had accidentally broken somebody's science experiment. He had given me an unkind nick name and it had stuck, at least for a while, long enough to make me feel like I could not do anything right. Then it occurred to me that I had to do the same thing with my mind as I had done with my bus. I had to get down into the deepest part, and wrestle with those things that did not belong there and get rid of them.
When I got back to the bus barn I went into the mechanic's office, cone in hand and said that I needed to report a murder. "You killed it!" the receptionist said. All the mechanics were having a meeting, but I guess the murder of a safety cone is reason enough to interrupt a meeting. She asked what we should do? One of them said, matter-of-factly, "Throw it away." And that was all that happened. I threw the cone away and I am still working for the school district. I am a free man today.
And, I believe I am a little bit less cluttered in my thinking because I am learning to get rid of those thoughts that don't belong in my head and replace them with what is true. Mistakes happen. I am a good bus driver (not perfect). I can do things right. I could go on but then you might not think of me as the humble man that I am. Anyway, lesson learned. Maybe you could learn from my story as well. Just a thought.
Next week, learning not to jump to conclusions can come in real handy when you are a bus driver. Stay tuned for "What's Going On?"
It can't be me, I thought. Everything is fine, the bus is driving fine. They must have the wrong bus. I am not sure of the words that I used but that is pretty much what I told the dispatcher. Because she was not as sure as I was, she said that I needed to pull the bus over and look underneath. I said okay, knowing this would be a waste of time. The only place I could find was along the main street of Troutdale, one of the communities in our district. It was just after 7am so there were no cars in the parking spaces. I pulled over and got out to look under the bus. To my amazement, there was something orange under my bus. It was the safety cone I had not noticed earlier. But there it was, easy to see but hard to reach. I ended up crawling under the bus and grabbing the cone. It would not budge. After a few minutes of pushing pulling and twisting it finally came loose, very much the worse for wear. It seems that safety cones are not made to be dragged for miles under a school bus. I wasn't sure what to do with this well worn cone so I threw it into the storage compartment.
Having removed the evidence of my crime, I jumped in the bus and headed for my first high school stop. Everything was fine now, except for the thoughts in my head. How could I have done that? Maybe I was not meant to be a school bus driver?
I even thought about the time in 7th grade I had accidentally broken somebody's science experiment. He had given me an unkind nick name and it had stuck, at least for a while, long enough to make me feel like I could not do anything right. Then it occurred to me that I had to do the same thing with my mind as I had done with my bus. I had to get down into the deepest part, and wrestle with those things that did not belong there and get rid of them.
When I got back to the bus barn I went into the mechanic's office, cone in hand and said that I needed to report a murder. "You killed it!" the receptionist said. All the mechanics were having a meeting, but I guess the murder of a safety cone is reason enough to interrupt a meeting. She asked what we should do? One of them said, matter-of-factly, "Throw it away." And that was all that happened. I threw the cone away and I am still working for the school district. I am a free man today.
And, I believe I am a little bit less cluttered in my thinking because I am learning to get rid of those thoughts that don't belong in my head and replace them with what is true. Mistakes happen. I am a good bus driver (not perfect). I can do things right. I could go on but then you might not think of me as the humble man that I am. Anyway, lesson learned. Maybe you could learn from my story as well. Just a thought.
Next week, learning not to jump to conclusions can come in real handy when you are a bus driver. Stay tuned for "What's Going On?"
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