Skip to main content

Playing Businessman on BART


To continue the BART stories:

When we'd get on BART to go wherever we were going, the kids were actually usually on their best behavior. They would occasionally yell things like, "Let that lady sit down, she's old!" that you wish they wouldn't yell, but it really did show that they meant well.

One of their favorite games was to pick up discarded newspapers and pretend to read them. Sometimes they'd really read them, but usually they didn't want to put that much effort into it. If I asked them what they were doing, they'd let me know that they were playing businessman. To them, that's what businessmen (and no, it was never businesswomen) did. They read newspapers on BART. Once, one of them told me that she was looking for a new job for me, so that I could "have a better job."

We met some real businessmen on BART once, and it turned out that they were even BART businessmen. They were BART executives who rode BART periodically to see how things were going firsthand, and they sat down with us. These guys - who were obviously high up in the system judging from what they were wearing - started asking the kids where they were going. They gave some pretty unintelligible answers because on the way to a field trip, they are always so excited that they trip over their words and end up making no sense at all. The executives were patient though and (although I'd be surprised if they ever figured out where we were going) asked to come with us. The kids got really excited and invited them, but the men said that they had to go to work but that they'd really rather come with us.

The best part was when we got off, one of them told me, "You know, those were the best behaved group of school kids I have ever seen ride on this train." Now, if you've ever seen my class in action, you'll understand what a miracle that is. If you haven't met my class, just think about how many times a group of inner-city, mostly minority kids who are for the most part proud of being "ghetto" gets called well-behaved. Yeah. It doesn't happen.

I think the preparation for BART rides really worked!

Of course, they didn't always behave that well, but they mostly did well on BART. On buses, for some reason, they tended to act up more. I don't know what the reason was. I know that BART was exciting for them. On the way to one field trip we got through all the hassle of getting to the station, getting through the ticket gate, getting on BART, riding BART... and as we were getting off, one of the kids said to me, "That was the best field trip ever!" We were still on our way to the field trip! He thought the BART ride was the field trip, and it was the best ever! I wish the BART executives had been there for that one!

The other rule on BART was that they had to sit if there was a seat. They all wanted to hang on poles, but their balance wasn't good and they couldn't reach the top poles, so if there was a seat, they had to sit in it. And, this being BART, they had to sit next to a stranger if that was the only seat, but if the stranger was crazy, they could raise their hand and I would let them move. They knew what crazy meant and didn't abuse it. They couldn't switch seats, either, otherwise it was a Chinese fire drill at every stop.

If there weren't any seats, I told them what to do. On trains with a lot of floor space, they could sit on the floor. Otherwise, they mainly hung on to me. If there weren't any poles to hang on to, I would hold on to the top bar, and they had to hold on to me. There would be two or three taller kids on each of my arms (which were stretched up to hang onto the bar), and two or three holding on to each leg. Some would hang onto my backpack or belt. They mostly managed not to fall over, but I never got a picture. I must have looked like some strange child-growing tree.

Comments

Anonymous said…
You've GOT TO get these stories to the BART execs!
Or get them to the Chronicle!

Maybe get these 2 blogs to a Chronicle columnist...I'll think who would be receptive.

Popular posts from this blog

A Loss

  (I have been putting off finishing this blog post for months. You'll see why)  Today, I was cleaning a bookshelf and I found the journal from one of my third-grade students, who I call Fred in my book , in 2001. I still had it because he didn't come to the last day of school to get his stuff this year and I guess it got put in a pile and somehow I've kept it with me.  He didn't come to the last day of school, probably because his family was a mess: dad in prison, mom in an abusive relationship, all the kids (understandably) acting out violently. Fred was expelled from our school in second grade for hitting a teacher. Then he was expelled from the other school, I don't know why, at the end of second grade. He came back on the condition from the administration that he be in my class because I had him as a student in first grade and he listened to me and worked well with me.  We had a really good relationship, although Fred was definitely not easy to have in class.

A New Prison, Part Two

  Second very long part of the prison visit report.   After we got all the paperwork filled out and went through the metal detector, we got visitation slips with the name of the inmate, and made our way over to the other building for visitation. This is not maximum security so thankfully you can just sit next to the inmates, and not be separated by glass or have to use a telephone to talk.    First, you get a gate unlocked and go into a holding pen that is of course in direct sunlight (or rain if it's that season) and surrounded by fences topped with razor wire. You wait there until the gate at the other end is unlocked. This holding pen was a little bigger and less claustrophobic than the other prison (I do not have any claustrophobia and I came very close to a panic attack once at the other place) and they opened the other gate more quickly. Then you walk, again in blazing sunlight (or rain) to the visitation building. This one was less of a walk than the other prison but I still

A New Prison, Part 1

My former student, friend, and co-author was moved to a new prison during COVID. We (myself, Mitali, and his Abuela) have visited a couple of times via the video visit functionality they set up, but we've also been trying to visit in person, ever since in-person visits were allowed again. After four of them being canceled (sometimes we were told why, sometimes not), we finally got a visit. I was super nervous about this visit. (I felt better when Mitali mentioned that she was also, because she is an inherently positive and optimistic person!) I am not proud of this, but there was a large part of me that was hoping that the visit would be canceled, just like the previous four were. I felt a little better when someone I know messaged me privately to tell me that they had had very good experiences visiting a family member in that prison. But I still didn't sleep well at all that night, worrying about the guards, the many things that could go wrong, and the projected 111-degree hea