Guarding the Crosswalk

Seven or eight years ago we got a crossing guard at the intersection closest to our middle school. It happened after one of our students ran into a moving car while crossing the street. The accident occurred hours after school was out and nearly a block down the road, but the traumatic brain injury the student sustained made everyone want to do something to make things safer for kids.

From time to time I hear adults complaining about the guard on duty. They don't like it that not only does he stop traffic for kids who are ready to cross, but then he goes on to direct traffic, too. It's a 2 stop-sign intersection, and the line of cars can get pretty long at the stop signs in the middle of the morning rush. Personally, I don't mind, although if I'm running late, it's me he stops from taking the quick right while he waves the other cars on. I always like it when someone imposes order on potential chaos.

My sister aspired to the job of crossing guard. When she was 5 or 6, she told us how much she liked the uniform, especially the white cap and gloves, and we knew she could imagine herself and her cat, Dusty, in matching outfits, standing on that bold yellow circle in the middle of the road, whistles at the ready, hand and paw held straight out in the universal gesture for Halt.

When I was in sixth grade there was a crossing guard at the intersection near my bus stop. It was his job to cross the elementary kids safely across busy Cooper Street. His name was Ernie, and even though we middle school kids didn't need him to help us get to our bus stop, we all knew him because he had been there for years. That didn't stop a bunch of the older kids from verbally abusing him every day. He was short, older, and definitely not the smartest guy around, and these kids took delight in shouting insults across the street until our bus picked us up.

Of course Ernie blustered and threatened, but he really had no recourse, and more often than not his responses just made the kids worse. Their cruelty and disrespect really upset me, but I didn't know how to stand up to the prevailing culture. There was one thing I thought of to do, though. I wrote a letter to the editor of our local newspaper in defense of crossing guards.

That was my first publication. It made me very proud to see my name and words in print, but nothing at the bus stop changed. Even so, I had an inkling that writing, too, could help bring order to chaos.