The tall rubber rain boats almost always had cockroaches hiding in the toe area. We learned early on in our tenure as school Safety Patrol kids to turn the boots upsidedown and shake vigorously before slipping them on. Fortunately, in San Diego, the rain gear, which included equally as creepy yellow slickers, was rarely needed.
Our school wasn't otherwise grimy, in fact it was quite new. As one of the oldest elementary schools in the city, it had been rebuilt the year my class was in Kindergarten to meet modern earthquake standards. The two Patrol Rooms, girl's and boy's, opened to the outside, which may explain the creatures.
On a horizontal pole, well away from the rain gear stashed in the corner, each girl had a hanger with white pants, a white shirt, and a red windbreaker sporting the San Diego Police Department School Safety Patrol insignia. A shelf above held our plastic helmets that resembled hardhats. All but one of the helmets were neon yellow. That special one was red and the bowl of the hat was a slightly different shape than the yellows.
The nomination by teachers to be on Patrol were issued at the beginning of 4th grade and we served through the end of 6th grade. During the final year of my service, that red helmet was mine. An identical helmet in the boy's Patrol Room belonged to Khanh Vo. We were co-captains of the Ulysses S. Grant Elementary School Safety Patrol.
I was reminded of my three years helping kids and parents cross the street safely before and after school by a recent story in The Spokesman-Review about a local kid who is being inducted into the Washington Safety Patrol Hall of Fame.
Hall of Fame!? How have I never heard of this before? Does each state have one? Why aren't Khanh and I inductees? We ran that group of 4th-, 5th-, and 6th-graders with efficiency, professionalism, and I dare say, inspiration.
Kids these days throw on a lousy yellow and orange safety vest, work for about 10 minutes, and call it good. It says so right there in the newspaper. Back in 1979-81, a crew of six had to arrive to school early to change clothes, work two different intersections, three patrolees to each street, and then hustle to change back into school clothes to avoid being overly late to class. Afternoon patrol was roughly the same routine. There was even a Kindergarten detail, which meant spending all of lunch and lunch recess changing into the red and white uniform, greeting the littlest schoolkids when their day ended at noon and escorting them across the playground, through the lunch arbor, and to their parents waiting in front of the school. One little boy always got picked up late, so when my buddy Lynette and I had Kindergarten duty together, we'd play freeze tag with him until the last possible moment when we had to change and race back to class.
It's a curious contrast, these two methods of crossing guard duty. In general, so much about school is more complicated today than it was 35 years ago. Yet, our Patrol system took some serious coordination and time to pull off. And here's why.
Practically the whole school walked to and from home. We had to get those kids safely across two well-traveled roads. Today, walking is minimized because parents don't feel safe leaving their kids alone for a few blocks, or because they have to be at this or that practice immediately after school, or because it's just easier to get them home by car asap to deal with all the homework piled on starting in Kindergarten.
I don't like that cars and grown-ups have replaced the joyous independence of walking home. There were always sticks to be found and flowers to admire, and other kids to laugh with. But I do like that some kids are still invited to be crossing guards and to flex their leadership muscle. The numbers they help may be smaller, but their service is as important as it was three decades ago. Some things never change.
Our school wasn't otherwise grimy, in fact it was quite new. As one of the oldest elementary schools in the city, it had been rebuilt the year my class was in Kindergarten to meet modern earthquake standards. The two Patrol Rooms, girl's and boy's, opened to the outside, which may explain the creatures.
On a horizontal pole, well away from the rain gear stashed in the corner, each girl had a hanger with white pants, a white shirt, and a red windbreaker sporting the San Diego Police Department School Safety Patrol insignia. A shelf above held our plastic helmets that resembled hardhats. All but one of the helmets were neon yellow. That special one was red and the bowl of the hat was a slightly different shape than the yellows.
The nomination by teachers to be on Patrol were issued at the beginning of 4th grade and we served through the end of 6th grade. During the final year of my service, that red helmet was mine. An identical helmet in the boy's Patrol Room belonged to Khanh Vo. We were co-captains of the Ulysses S. Grant Elementary School Safety Patrol.
I was reminded of my three years helping kids and parents cross the street safely before and after school by a recent story in The Spokesman-Review about a local kid who is being inducted into the Washington Safety Patrol Hall of Fame.
Hall of Fame!? How have I never heard of this before? Does each state have one? Why aren't Khanh and I inductees? We ran that group of 4th-, 5th-, and 6th-graders with efficiency, professionalism, and I dare say, inspiration.
Kids these days throw on a lousy yellow and orange safety vest, work for about 10 minutes, and call it good. It says so right there in the newspaper. Back in 1979-81, a crew of six had to arrive to school early to change clothes, work two different intersections, three patrolees to each street, and then hustle to change back into school clothes to avoid being overly late to class. Afternoon patrol was roughly the same routine. There was even a Kindergarten detail, which meant spending all of lunch and lunch recess changing into the red and white uniform, greeting the littlest schoolkids when their day ended at noon and escorting them across the playground, through the lunch arbor, and to their parents waiting in front of the school. One little boy always got picked up late, so when my buddy Lynette and I had Kindergarten duty together, we'd play freeze tag with him until the last possible moment when we had to change and race back to class.
It's a curious contrast, these two methods of crossing guard duty. In general, so much about school is more complicated today than it was 35 years ago. Yet, our Patrol system took some serious coordination and time to pull off. And here's why.
Practically the whole school walked to and from home. We had to get those kids safely across two well-traveled roads. Today, walking is minimized because parents don't feel safe leaving their kids alone for a few blocks, or because they have to be at this or that practice immediately after school, or because it's just easier to get them home by car asap to deal with all the homework piled on starting in Kindergarten.
I don't like that cars and grown-ups have replaced the joyous independence of walking home. There were always sticks to be found and flowers to admire, and other kids to laugh with. But I do like that some kids are still invited to be crossing guards and to flex their leadership muscle. The numbers they help may be smaller, but their service is as important as it was three decades ago. Some things never change.
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