Originally posted on Tonia Says:
I rode the short bus my entire school life, and while I was keenly aware of an otherness – a sense of being different and separate – the experience in and of itself was not a negative one. In fact, I still recall the faces of some of the drivers, aides and fellow passengers with fondness.
I remember Charlie, who drove the bus in when I was in second grade, and who was so concerned when my sis fell out of her seat into the aisle, thanks to a seat belt that was too loose. I remember Bob, the aide on the bus I rode in fourth grade, who never minded when my sis and I sang songs from Disney movies the entire ride to school. Continue reading