Story of the Day 5/ 2/ 2013

It is turning out to be "one of those days".

Sarah's bus was late. When she had been waiting outside for it for just under 20 minutes, I called the transportation number.
I was put on hold.
At least the music wasn't too bad.
the woman got back on, eventually, and told me it was running little late.
She said this as if I hadn't figured that out , yet.
She said it would be here in 5 to ten minutes.

Less than ten minutes later, the phone rang. It was one of those magical automated calls that our school district uses. I pushed "1" to listen to the message.
The bus, #41, was now bus #...., and would be 30 minutes late.
I figured they meant from the latest time that the bus normally comes- which was now about 30 minutes ago. For Sarah who had been waiting outside the requisite ten minutes before that time...well, I hung up, and , again, went outside and explained there would be a few minute longer wait.

Sarah was less than overjoyed.
She wanted me to drive her to school.
I was still wearing my pajamas.
Worse, I hadn't had any coffee. This, after a late night meant I was not safe to drive a bike, forget about a car with my child in it.

"But I saw you drinking coffee!" replied Sarah
"That was tea, herbal tea. Sorry."
Sarah continued to wait.

When it got to be 50 minutes past the regular bus pick up time, ten minutes past the phone call's estimate, I again called transportation.
In case you wanted to know, yes, I do have their phone number memorized.
This time, I was told that the bus was coming, but the bus driver was unfamiliar with the route, so please be patient.
I was being patient.
My daughter who had been outside all this time, was not.

I , again, told Sarah that it was coming.
At this point, we were stuck.
If I drove her to school, she would be late.
Being late, and being driven by anything other than the bus, means you go to the "holding room" for a period.
And it counts as an unexcused absence in the class you miss by being in the holding room- with a zero for all assignments, tests and quizzes.
A nice kick in the butt on top of the having to stand outside all this time waiting.

At least, it wasn't 15 degrees or raining or....

The bus finally arrived.
I watched my daughter board it.
She got a seat.
This is a rarity.
Normally, the bus is full.
Sometimes there is a seat with still only one student.
In the mornings, most of the year, it is too dark to see much, when you get on the bus, so Sarah motions for permission to sit in the empty spot, to share someone's seat.
On good days, the person she asks nods.
Or even shakes their head "no".

On bad days, they say something. And Sarah cannot see their face to know what they said, or even if they said anything, because it is too dark. So she has to hope that she will not be greeted by, at the least, rudeness if she then sits down, and worse, sometimes, some physical aggression.
And those are the better mornings.
Sometimes all the seats already have two semi-adult people in them, and she has to figure out who will give her 2 inches of seat.
The third adult sized butt on a seat which is not really made for that.

Sarah has wondered aloud (if that is the right adjective to describe sign language), why her bus is so full, but some other buses only have 14 students on them, and plenty of empty seats.
Who figures out these routes?
Sarah is sure she could design a better system.
I agree .
But, this morning, it is already light out, and she gets a seat.
To herself.

I , three minutes later, hear the phone ring.
It is Sarah's resource teacher.
" I was wondering if Sarah was home ill."
I politey explain that the bus was close to a hour late.
At this point, I am not sure, although, I could check my cell phone and be more exact, if she wants.

I could check this because immediately after getting on the bus, I got a text from Sarah- which gives a time.
She texted me because she was worried about what to do when the bus arrives at school. She can't just go to class without a pass, but she is unsure how to get a pass, and she has no one to interpret her situation to anyone stopping her in the hall.
With our luck, some staff person is liable to grab her roughly by the arm and take her to the dean's office, assuming she is too obnoxious to reply when they call out to her from behind her.
My son was grabbed and shaken once for "ignoring" a teacher like that.
And he wears hearing aids that are very visible, especially since in high school he wore neon colored ear molds.

The resource tecaher realizes the problem- since we had complained about the other incidents ( yes, there was more than one), and says someone will go grab Sarah. Of course, she means grab in a figurative sense.

What I really wanted to say, I do not say.
This resource teacher has known me for over 11 years. She was Aaron's resource teacher, first. That was for 7 years, and I actually met with her before he started at the middle school.
And she has been Sarah's resource teacher since Freshman year, and sarah is now a senior
When one of my children is ill, I call the attendance office.
Then I email the resource teacher, and I also call and leave a message for her.
Then I email and text the interpreter.
And if I still do not feel secure in the belief that someone has gotten the message, I might also email her first period teacher.
I do this exact sequence each and every time one of my children is out for an illness.

For 11 years.

Even I think it is overkill, but I cannot stop myself, because the one time I didn't do that, the message I left was missed.

And, if I know my kid might be ill, the evening before, I email and call the resource teacher, and I email the interpreter, but I do not contact the attendance office.

And if it is an absence for an upcoming Jewish holiday, I send an email to each and every teacher, and to the resource teacher and to the interpreter, and I call the attendance office.
Twice.
Because, once, they messed up.
And then, two years later, they messed up again, and then we had three years in a row with a minimum of one mess up per year.
So, having already alerted everyone, once, at the beginning of the semester, I now also remind the teachers and the interpreter, just before the absence.

And yet, despite all of this, I have had kids with unexcused absences for Jewish holidays, with teachers giving them zeros on tests and not allowing makeup, with a teacher claiming I never informed them ( despite the fact I not only had a copy of the email I sent to him, but an emailed response from him right afterwards that I had not deleted).....
So, this level of neurosis is what they have trained me to do.

So, what I really wanted to say to her was, " You are asking me if I somehow managed to not inform half of the school?.... Are you stoned? "