Just sayin'

On July first, Oregon's new restraint law took effect.  Public educators can no longer restrain a child unless the child poses "serious bodily injury to himself or others".  Such bodily injury must be of a degree that "a medical doctor would verify injury".  No more gripping the hand of a child prone to straying from the ship-shape line.  And those tiny runners who like to bolt out of the classroom in the earliest years?  No chasing, no grabbing, no holding. 

On the first day of school, a five year old sat rooted in his seat and clung to the bus window, refusing to get off the bus to start school. 

"Mommy!  Mommy!  Mommy!" he cried. 

He was new, a kindergartener, so we did not know who he was. 

"What's your name honey?" 

"Mommy!" he cried with greater vigor. 

We could not call home because we didn't know which family he belonged to.  Seven different staff members tried every trick in the book - stuffed animals, affectionate cajoling, promises - no go.  He stayed there and cried.

The bus driver was held hostage by an incoherent five year old while we all looked helplessly on.  The driver radioed in to let dispatch know he could not continue his route.  Fifteen minutes into the siege we called the non-emergency Sheriff's number.  The only one who could forcibly remove a child from the bus would be law enforcement.  (Now there's an enduring childhood memory - remember when a police officer made you go to kindergarten Johnny?)

Absurd?  Absurd.

Fortunately, law enforcement is busy.  Pulling small children off buses is not their highest priority.  We waited a while.  And before the sheriff's deputy arrived, the eighth staff member somehow either wore the child down or struck on the right words to say.  The little boy held her hand and descended the bus stairs, ending the standoff.

My school sits on a busy road.  Since we cannot physically restrain an impulsive child in motion, we must rely on our words, no?  Langston's Hughes' brilliant poem comes to mind.

Baby

Albert!
Hey, Albert!
Don't you play in dat road.
You see 'dem trucks
A goin' by?
One run ovah you,
An' you die!
Albert, don't you play in dat road!