As a parent of five, I send my children to school each day expecting safety, structure and support — but is that still a reasonable expectation? I want to believe it is, but lately, I feel like I’m holding on to hope where there seems to be none.
Recently, something happened to my children that made me stop and ask: Can I truly feel at ease when they walk out the door each morning?
I enrolled four of my children in their school’s summer camp program. It seemed like the perfect opportunity — time with friends, a little learning and lots of fun. Since my kids have always ridden the bus without issue, I didn’t think twice about dropping them off at the bus stop last Tuesday morning.
Not long after, I got a call from the school nurse. She said there had been a “scuffle” on the bus. My 10-year-old stepson and 6-year-old son had both been hit. She assured me they were OK and said the assistant principal could call me later, if I wanted. At first, I thought it was something minor — the kind of thing that happens when kids are together on a bus. Then she handed the phone to my stepson.
He was hysterical — and that’s not like him. Through tears, he told me that some “high school kids” got into a fight on the bus. There was yelling, cursing and hitting. He said he was “punched in the head” and his younger brother was “elbowed.” Then he cried, “I’m so scared.” Hearing that fear in his voice was gut-wrenching.
Later, I spoke briefly with the assistant principal, who said the bus footage would be reviewed. I didn’t hear back. My kids were still shaken, so I didn’t send them the next day. When I requested a follow-up, the assistant principal told me after reviewing the footage, five students were suspended from the bus for five days and one for the rest of the summer. However, all were still attending the camp.
His tone came across as flippant. He suggested I could drive my kids instead of having them ride the bus. He described the fight as “more like horseplay” and said my children’s backs were turned since they were sitting in front of the altercation. He added that the bus driver didn’t pull over and said, “If I had been driving, I would have stopped — but all drivers are different.”
I stayed calm — that’s my nature. But afterward, I felt dismissed, angry and even foolish. My kids — my sweet, vulnerable children — were terrified. Yes, I could drive them, but why should I have to? They did nothing wrong. Could the incident have been “horseplay”? Maybe. But I’ve never seen horseplay leave kids so shaken. And yes, drivers are different — but isn’t there a protocol when a fight breaks out? I don’t know what it is. Do you? Do most parents?
Was the right protocol followed? Was the punishment appropriate? Would I have even known if my children hadn’t insisted on calling me?
I decided to trust the system and send my children back last Thursday. I reassured them the kids involved in the fight wouldn’t be on the bus. They seemed happy and relieved when I dropped them off.
It wasn’t long before the school nurse called again. All four of my children were in her office upset. My 8-year-old stepdaughter got on the phone and said words I’ll never forget: “Renee, there was another fight on the bus.”
I still don’t know exactly what happened. No one from the school has followed up with me. My children told me some kids started hitting each other with shoes and slapping each other in the face. When I asked if they were just playing around, they all said no — they were “really fighting and angry.” Once again, my boys were called into the office to recount what they saw.
Every day, we entrust our precious children to someone else’s care — placing their physical safety, emotional well-being, and futures in the hands of a system we hope will protect, guide, and shape them into kind, capable adults. But what happens when that system fails?
These kids already face peer pressure, social struggles, academic expectations — and now they have to wonder if they’re safe. How many of you have children who’ve come home and told you they were bullied or assaulted? What did you do? What did you expect the school to do? Was it enough?
I have great respect for educators — their job is incredibly hard. But I have to ask: Are we doing everything we can to protect our children from their peers? And are we, as parents, doing our part to make sure our children aren’t the ones causing harm?
This year I’ve witnessed parents physically brawling at a Little League game with hundreds of children watching. I’ve seen adults shake fences, scream profanities, and threaten umpires. If this is what children see at home, how can we be surprised when they mimic that behavior?
Schools can only do so much. We can demand change, but unless we know what’s happening — unless the schools communicate with us — how can we hold anyone accountable?
It leaves me feeling hopeless.
So what can I do? I can’t homeschool. My husband and I both work full-time. What I can do is raise kind, thoughtful children. I can teach them to be respectful, to value themselves and to make good choices. I can model that behavior. And when I fall short, I can apologize and do better next time.
Then, I send them off — with a prayer that God will protect and guide them. Because right now, that feels like all I have left.
Renee Trice is the advertising director at Tallapoosa Publishers Inc.
