DEAR YOGESHREE. Finding meaning in children's talk

DEAR YOGESHREE

There was this thing called 'the school run'. It meant that those children who couldn't get themselves to school were ferried to school in the Home's micro-bus. Every staff member who could drive the bus was on the roster to do it, depending on whether you were 'on  duty' that morning for the wake-up and breakfast routines. It was a fairly long drive around the outer perimeter of the East London city using a carefully worked out route. Those who needed to be at school first dropped first and all that usual stuff.

We hated it, and so did the kids. They, because they were dependent on the ride in the bright red micro-bus with the name of the Children's Home boldly emblazoned on its sides. We, because the kids invariably showed their early morning anxieties and their displeasure by acting-out, making rude signs to any passing cars if the children passengers stared at them. The school run always held the potential of becoming a behaviour management nightmare.

The whole thing finished up with Tammy being the only one left in the bus and a long drive down Oxford Street, the main road through the city and the main shopping area of East London. In terms of the pecking order among the kids Tammy was usually put into the luggage space at the back of the bus  commonly called 'the doggy box'. Her voice was silenced in the din of the other ones.

With the others dropped off, Tammy would move from the back of the bus to the very front so that she could be at my shoulder, hold onto the front seat and see through the windscreen. This part of the school run was usually silent. It was a great privilege.

As usual that morning the shops were just opening and the shop assistants were moving around the smaller stores. I liked driving past the second hand shop owned by the Children's Home just to check the first stiirrings there.

The silence as we drove through the main shopping area was usual.

Then came this little voice in a pleading tone at my shoulder.

"Mr Lodge"

" Please   .....buy me an adult!"


Love

 Barrie