Caring for the health and safety of our kids truly takes a village. And as we get ready to launch another school year, there is one part of that village I think we too often overlook: our crossing guards.
Yes, crossing guards keep kids safe. They stand in traffic, stop cars and make sure hundreds of kids get across busy streets in one piece. That alone deserves our gratitude.
But the great ones do so much more.
Think about how much time a crossing guard spends with the same kids and families. A few minutes every morning. A few minutes every afternoon. Day after day, year after year. Those minutes add up.
They learn names. There are fist bumps, hugs and special handshakes. They know which kid is going to sprint across the street despite the daily reminder to slow down. They create a little pocket of warmth on an otherwise ordinary corner.
Take Ms. Juanita, the GOAT of crossing guards. To a lot of kids on her corner, she isn’t just the woman who stops traffic. She’s something closer to a grandmother. She notices the new haircut. She remembers whose birthday is coming up. She’ll tell a kid to zip up their coat or put on the hat they promised their parents they’d wear, but somehow forgot about the second they walked out the door.
And it’s not just the kids who linger. Plenty of parents have already dropped off their kid and are technically free to go, but somehow find a reason to stand on the corner a little longer. Ms. Juanita is dispensing something you can’t get anywhere else on a Tuesday morning: perspective, a little gossip, maybe a gentle scolding about the coat you, the adult, isn’t wearing.
You came for the crosswalk. You stayed for the wisdom.
When our kids were younger, we walked them to school ourselves. Then, seemingly overnight, independence kicked in. By the middle of third grade, we were informed that our services were only needed on Mondays. By fourth grade, we’d essentially been fired.
We would have happily kept walking with them. But the transition was easier knowing Ms. Juanita was going to be on that corner every morning and afternoon.
Over time, crossing guards become part of the fabric of your day. They see the mornings when you’re running late, when somebody forgot something, when you clearly didn’t sleep enough. There are very few people who can look at you at 7:45 a.m. and say, “You look tired today!”
A beloved crossing guard can. Because it doesn’t land as judgment. It lands as, I see you. You’re part of my morning, too.
So as we head back to school, thank your crossing guard. Better yet, get to know them.
They aren’t just helping our kids cross the road. Some of them help to raise us all.
Vince Gay, the proud parent of two school-age children, has over 20 years of experience in education, ranging from classroom teacher to building administrator.