Are you the type to hop into a conflict, perhaps to right a wrong or set things straight?
I don’t like altercations. But here’s the truth:
I recently confronted a school bus driver over a real concern that he was endangering his precious cargo—children who attend a nearby elementary school—and my neighbors (to include dogs and cats) who crossed his path.
Were my actions foolish or wise? I offer my rationale for stepping in and what I took away from the experience for you to decide.
The First Encounter
Shortly after the school year began, I was backing down my driveway when an afternoon drop-off bus suddenly appeared. Without slowing down, the driver blew his horn and continued past me. He then sped around the cul-de-sac that begins at the house next door.
Before he came along, I was about to put my car in park to adjust a sideview mirror that was entirely out of position. Since the driver couldn’t read my mind, I didn’t fault him for honking. However, he should have slowed to a stop, making sure I wasn’t going to back into his six-wheeler.
Because of his speed, I doubt the man had time to brake!
After treating the cul-de-sac like a racetrack, he sped past me again before stopping alongside my neighbor’s adjacent property to let off a few kids. I left my car, determined to say something to him.
By the time I reached the front of the bus, the last child had stepped off. Seeing me, the driver shut the door.
Initially thinking, “that was rude,” I realized he was motioning for me to walk around and speak to him through his open window. That made sense. He was protecting the children.
“Sir,” I said, “you need to slow down. You are driving entirely too fast, especially around that cul-de-sac.”
He bitterly insisted he was going the speed limit.
I attempted to say it was too fast for conditions, but he started talking over me. Realizing there would be no reasoning with the man, I walked away. Noting his bus number, I planned to report him to the school system’s transportation department.
When I called, someone gave me a phone number for his supervisor, and I left a voice message for that individual to call me. Since it was the first week of school, I didn’t expect an immediate reply.
The next morning, as I was finishing up my walk, a group of neighborhood parents and kids were headed to the elementary school on foot. It’s a short distance, and on nice days, they enjoy going together. At least one parent had heard me confronting the driver the afternoon before at the bus stop, so I wanted him and the others to know the full story.
“The driver might be wonderful with the children,” I concluded, “but his recklessness is putting the kids and the rest of us at risk.”
“No, he’s not nice,” one of the boys interjected. “He’s mean!”
Now wondering if the driver had an anger problem, I left a second message for the man’s supervisor. Again, no one called me back, but the children’s parents knew what to do.
Not a Racetrack
From racing around our curvy, narrow roads, multiple drivers have crashed their cars into the brick mailboxes in our neighborhood. Lacking sidewalks and bike paths, we’re fortunate that no humans have been harmed!
The Second Encounter
Weeks went by before I faced the bus driver again. This time, it was in the early morning.
Beginning our walk, my dog and I were in the infamous cul-de-sac. My husband, who had lagged to attend to something in our yard, was near the start of the turnaround. Meanwhile, watching the guy pick up speed, my dog and I darted several feet into the landscaped island and waited for him to pass.
Witnessing the driver’s flagrant carelessness, my husband stepped in the road and flagged him down to stop. Since our neighborhood was first on his route, the bus was still empty, and no kids were waiting for a ride.
“Do you want to kill someone, or do you want to slow down?” my husband said.
The man shouted that he had been driving 15 miles per hour, as if that were the prescribed cul-de-sac speed.
I tried to inject that real conditions determined what was safe, but he cut me off and bellowed, “You two are terrible!”
Frustrated by his defiance, my husband and I spent most of our walk discussing how to deal with the rogue driver. Seeing one of our neighbors, we told him about the incident and learned that he, too, had reported the guy. Soon after, we encountered the posse on their way to school and updated the parents. One of those families had also issued a complaint.
Reinvigorated, I made my third call to the school bus authorities. Possibly because of my persistence and reports from others, a serious-minded supervisor called me back later that day. She promised to investigate, which would entail driving through our neighborhood.
Contributing to the conversation, my husband encouraged her to test-drive her bus in the cul-de-sac at 15 miles per hour. He had found that his truck—a vehicle half the length of the bus—could comfortably round the curves while traveling between five and eight miles per hour.
Risky Business
For starters, I could have handled the situation better, such as by reporting the driver without confronting him. Gearing up to speak with him, I was reacting as if putting out a fire. Instead, I added fuel to it. Granted, I didn’t know how headstrong he would be, but any possibility of a negative response should have given me pause before scolding him while kids sat on his bus.
As for round two, it was unrealistic to think that my husband’s tough stance could change anything. The driver had just forced my dog and me to get out of his way so he could take the turnaround in record time.
Confronting him was risky business.
During our phone conversation with the supervisor, I mentioned that he knows where we live. “In times like this,” I said, “retaliation is a legitimate concern.” She said we had no reason to worry about revenge.
Well, we hope that remains true!
Hindsight
In hindsight, the direct confrontation accomplished nothing. Although each interaction provoked him to broadcast how fast he was driving, the tracking data on the bus would have made that information available without his help.
Multiple reports that communicated legitimate concerns about him were what ultimately prompted the investigation and resolution. As of this writing, the man is driving the way he should have been all along.
No One Wins a Shouting Match
The next time I’m compelled to address an issue head-on, I’ll strive to consider where an instant intervention could lead. Remembering that no one wins a shouting match might inspire a wiser Plan B.
If faced with a similar situation, would you get involved? If so, how?
Sallie W. Boyles, a.k.a. Write Lady
Thoughts or questions? Please contact Sallie Boyles, owner of Write Lady Inc., to exchange ideas about effective communications and gain from professional writing and editing services. Receive monthly tips and insights by subscribing at https://WriteLady.com.
