In a May 3 blog post on ClearanceLights.net, he said there is not a day where he doesn't pause and appreciate the "essential and often thankless job that drivers perform."

In fact, during the year hemake it a point to meet with each of his drivers. In these meetings he answer questions, solicits ideas, encourages feedback, and makes sure the driver knows how I feel about their jobs.

In honor of School Bus Driver Day, he shared the following story obtained from one of his drivers in one of these meetings.

"It is not by any means unique," Meslin wrote. "Rather, it is one of dozens (or thousands) of stories which demonstrate the caring, attentive, and supportive role that many, many bus drivers serve."

Good Song – Great Use

Albert is a student with special needs whose behaviors have occasionally been extreme. As a result, many bus drivers are worried when the student is assigned to their route. He has been known to get violent and, at times, a gentle touch can turn quickly into screaming, kicking, and punching. In the last few years several drivers and classroom aides have been injured by Albert.

Well driver Ruth loves Albert. He's caring, friendly, and always happy when on her bus. So what's her secret? She has created a CD containing the favorite song of every student on her route. As each student gets on the bus they get to hear their favorite song. (Sort of like the song baseball players hear when they come up to bat.) Albert loves the Rihanna song "Stay," which has a lot of piano accompaniment.

When Albert gets on the bus he sits towards the back of the bus. When he puts on his seatbelt, the music starts, and Albert is one of the best air piano players in Southern California. When the song is done and Albert wants to listen again, Ruth has taught him to say, "More please."

Each year in our district bus drivers get to bid on routes, so Ruth is pretty sure she won't get this route next year. But she wants to do all she can to ensure Albert succeeds so she has asked for permission to share her Rihanna strategy with next year's driver. Because of her training, she was sensitive to the confidentiality issues surrounding student data/information and thought she'd check to make sure. Since next year's driver has a "legitimate educational interest" in knowing her support strategies not only did she receive approval, but she received encouragement.

Ruth's strategy has now been shared with classroom staff so that the music can become one of the behavior modification tools used in the classroom. Ruth's approach is making a significant difference in Albert's educational day because she refused to believe that Albert is "a problem child". Instead, she used her training and caring to help address Albert's "problem behaviors."

Pete Meslin is the director of transportation at Newport-Mesa Unified School District in Orange County, Calif., and a national speaker on student transportation issues. He is a past chair of the STN EXPO and has frequently contributed to the magazine. He blogs with Peggy A. Burns, an STN contributor, attorney and owner of Education Compliance Group at ClearanceLights.net.

At the Transporting Students with Disabilities and Preschoolers National Conference in Frisco earlier this month, I was reminded of the importance of language. What you say can make such a difference.

The first story is one I heard from an attendee in one of my sessions. When a driver, whose primary language is not English, called dispatch to complain that a student had insulted him, the dispatcher heard, instead, that a student had "assaulted him." The dispatcher immediately called 911, law enforcement arrived in force, and the "molehill" became a "mountain" quite quickly.

We know that parents react quite differently to the word "harness" than they would to "safety vest." The federal government has, over time, become more sensitive to the reactions of students with special needs and their parents by changing the Education for All Handicapped Children Act (Public Law 94-142, enacted in 1975) to the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA, 1997). In 2010, with little fanfare, President Barack Obama signed legislation known as "Rosa's Law" requiring the federal government to replace the term "mental retardation" with "intellectual disability" in many areas of government.

When I referred at the TSD conference to "mufky pufky" meaning (to me, anyway) "hanky panky" of a sexual nature between students, I got a big laugh and a request to tell the world about my creative term. When I googled the phrase just now to see where I got it, I saw a 1965 birthday wish from one person to another, lovingly sending "Mufky Pufky and Ish kabibels" to the birthday girl, and a reference in a language that I don't know but that sounded like something my grandmother from "the old country" would have said.

Words can be fun, mis-leading, provocative, and insulting – or is that, assaulting. Let's all keep that in mind as we talk with family, colleagues, parents, and especially students.

Editor's note — Reprinted with permission from the blog ClearanceLights.

Peggy Burns is the former in-house counsel for Adams 12 Five Star Schools in Thornton, Colo., and currently owns and operates Education Compliance Group, Inc., a legal consultancy specializing in education and transportation issues. She is also a frequent speaker at national and state conferences and is the editor of the publication Legal Routes that covers pupil transportation law and compliance.

It's a good drug, even if "laughing gas" is a bit of a misnomer. And, it's not nearly as "magical" as the medication they administer intravenously so that one's colonoscopy is less fearful than the preparation for it. But, I digress. The point of my story is that I had some insights during my "twilight time" to what it might feel like to be a student with a disability – restrained, movement limited, and in some cases (like mine, yesterday), basically unable to communicate. I couldn't "do"; I was "done to."

I was at the mercy of the periodontist and his assistant. I trusted in their expertise, but couldn't help wondering in the semi-paranoia induced by both the nitrous and the situation, if they knew what they were doing.

I amused myself by focusing on what I might say about this in a blog. That diversion helped to make me somewhat objective about the complete vulnerability I felt. Here are some observations.

• Sometimes touching a student's body in the course of securing him or her cannot be avoided. Be aware that you're doing it. Say something that recognizes and apologizes for what may constitute a privacy intrusion.
• Assume that the student is hearing and understanding every word you say to another person with whom you're working. I happen to think my periodontist is a terrific guy, and I really like his assistant, but I didn't want to hear even a little bit of conversing about their holidays – I wanted total concentration on my mouth.
• Soothe the student with reassurance that everything is going well. At the end of the procedure, Dr. Thomas said "You did awesome," to which I replied, "How did you do – that's the important thing!" In the course of the hour long procedure, I might have liked to know what stage we were at. I might have been glad to know that there was very little bleeding – an indication that I was unlikely to have the excessive bleeding reflected on my post-procedure instructions that would require extra care. You get the point. I'm not enjoying reliving the experience, and you probably don't want to read more details about it. So, getting back to the student and the CSRS – It may seem obvious, and even patronizing to say "You're all secure and ready for a safe ride," but it can be very reassuring to the student.

Anyway, it might be valuable for you to reflect deeply about what it must feel like to be at the mercy of another. I highly recommend reading Stuck in Neutral by Terry Trueman, an award-winning book about a teenager who is "glued to his wheelchair, unable to voluntarily move a muscle-he can't even move his eyes." Narrated by the fictional boy, it will add to your vision of vulnerability, much as yesterday's experience added to mine.

Editor's note — Reprinted with permission from the blog ClearanceLights.

Peggy Burns is the former in-house counsel for Adams 12 Five Star Schools in Thornton, Colo., and currently owns and operates Education Compliance Group, Inc., a legal consultancy specializing in education and transportation issues. She is also a frequent speaker at national and state conferences and is the editor of the publication Legal Routes that covers pupil transportation law and compliance.

Every student entering Harvard probably feels that way, too, but it’s exceptionally exciting for Loggins as her dorm room will be her official home.

You see, this bright, college-bound young student is technically homeless. Luckily, she was able to finish her senior year in high school by living with a school bus driver whose daughter is a friend to Loggins. After learning about her situation, Sheryl Kolton offered her home so Loggins could finish her last year and begin the next stage in her life.

“I was glad to live with Sheryl because it enabled me to continue going to school and working. It gave me the opportunity to succeed because I had stability,” Loggins said. “I stayed there when school started and I'm still staying here so I can continue to work.”

And it wasn’t just Kolton who helped out. From teachers to local businesses — Loggins even received free toothpaste and toothbrushes from a local dentist — most who learned of her situation, responded with clothes, money, a ride to school or a place to sleep.

Loggins being accepted to Harvard despite experiencing numerous setbacks throughout her life, including being homeless, made media headlines in the spring.

Upon returning from a prestigious academic program during the summer, she discovered that her parents had left the state, and they didn’t tell her where they were. She ended up staying with different friends until she received an offer by Kolton.

With her job at the school as a custodial aid, Loggins would ride with Kolton on her bus to school early in the morning. She then would hitch a ride home from different people once her shift ended. She rode the school bus off and on during high school, but stopped after being harassed by some students.

“During my sophomore year I stopped riding the bus and started walking 45 minutes home vs. seven minutes it takes on the bus,” she said. Even her school bus memories from middle school were bad ones, as children would ridicule her about her personal appearance and living conditions.

Yet the hardships never stopped Loggins from focusing on her education. In fact, they motivated her even more to study so she could make a better life for herself. “It was difficult in many ways, but knowing that I needed an education is what kept me motivated,” she said.

Loggins added that she isn’t upset at her family for leaving her behind. She understood their circumstances, and does communicate with them. In talking with this soft-spoken young woman, it was evident that her driving spirit was not shaken by the unfortunate circumstances in her life.

And Loggins represents hundreds of thousands of students who are homeless in this country and are doing what it takes to complete their K-12 education. At the recent STN EXPO held in late July in Reno, Nev., student transporters discussed the growing number of homeless students who are bused to and from school.

One transportation supervisor noted that she’s seen a rise in homeless students of middle-class families who now live with relatives, at motels or in their cars. As these students move around, they cross district lines, and some school districts begin to argue over which entity pays for the cost of transporting them.

Regardless of who pays, transportation officials at the show agreed that they must always say yes to bussing these students, then ask questions later.

Who knows, they could be transporting many other smart and college-bound Dawn Loggins with a bright future ahead of them.

We wish Dawn the best of luck.

William Ayala

Along the ride we chatted about several things but one thing was important to William that day. It was his birthday. So here we start will a little family history. William is in a wheel chair because he was born with muscular dystrophy. He started out the first part of his life walking. Slowly he moved to a walker, then his illness progressed to the point that he was in a wheel chair. William had to have a steel rod put in his back because he couldn’t hold himself up in his chair.

It didn’t matter to William. He was happy to be alive and celebrating his birthday. What he told me that day almost brought me to tears. I couldn’t cry because I knew that William wouldn’t want me to feel pitty for him. This is what he said:

“Tami (to his bus driver), you know I am lucky to still be here. The doctors didn’t expect me to live very long. And you know what else? I lived longer then my sister did."

There was complete silence on that bus. I asked him what happened to his sister. He told me a long story of how she died of pneumonia when she was very little. He said that she should have lived longer than he did but he had long out lived her.

About 15 minutes later we arrived at William’s house. It was an older farm house with a dirt walk way that William had to travel. It was also a long steep hill. That didn’t stop William. At the top of the hill was another person sitting in a wheel chair. It was William’s father. Several years ago, right after he got out of the military, he was diving into a pool and had an accident. He was paralyzed from the waist down. I couldn’t believe it myself.

William was the last student to drop off that day. It was such a long and quiet ride back to the bus garage. I couldn’t take my mind off of what I just heard.

From that day on, I fell in love with that family. William’s Mom is my true hero. She took care of both William and Dad. She had a full time job as well to support them. She also had animals to take care of. For such a little tiny thing, she was tough. She never complained. Never! She loved William unconditionally.

On a rare occasion, Dad or Mom would call to tell me if William was sick and that they didn’t need a bus. We would get into long conversations. If his bus driver was sick, I’d be the first person to want to go out and sub on the route so that I could visit with William. William loved school buses. He loved the drivers and the drivers loved him. He would wave at the passing buses and they would wave back. Everyone here knew William’s family story.

During William’s junior year, I asked him if he would like to come down here to my office and help out. He was excited. I had the bus drop him off as soon as he got out of school. Mom came down at closing time to pick him up. I let William dispatch on the radio. Of course, I had to hold down on the receiver because William could not coordinate his hand to move that far. That radio would go like crazy. The drivers knew that he was here and they called in continually with some of the craziest things just so that William could respond to them on the radio.

My mechanic took William out to the shop to show him around. William was amazed. He wanted to learn more. At that time he told us that he wanted to be a graphic designer. He wasn’t sure if it were something he could do because he couldn’t move his hand much. I told him that I thought he could.

William receives his new computer from his friends in Selah and the Central Washington Association for Pupil Transportation.

Mom and Dad brought him down to one of our chapter meetings and we presented him with the gift. William’s family (I mean about 20 people) came to the event. Everyone cried. William was so proud. The first thing he planned to do was design T-shirts for the drivers. He even made a couple. The family couldn’t afford much in the way of supplies, but this is something he wanted to do.

After William graduated from high school his mom tried to enroll him in a graphic design institute here in Yakima, Wash., but they could not accommodate his needs. I think it really broke his heart.

From that time on, he battled several illnesses. He found himself in the hospital fighting for his life time and time again, never giving up. I went to see him one time when he was in the critical care unit, and he had several tubes in his mouth. He had needles everywhere, and we didn’t think he was going to make it. But William had a fight in him like no other person. He survived. In fact he said at least four to five times that he was fighting to stay alive. He would always come out of the hospital just to say, “See I told you so. I told you I would make it.”

This last year (2010), William spent nine months in critical care. He again beat the odds and was able to come home. He called me on the day he arrived and said that he wanted to come and see us but that he had to make sure that he was well.

A couple of months later, William came down with an infection that finally took his life at the age of 22. He told his mom that whatever happened to him, like if he died, he wanted her to call us here at transportation right away and not to forget. William died on Sunday, June 27, 2010. On that particular day, it was the state bus roadeo competition. We (the little town of Selah) were the host of the event. I believe that William was there watching as well.

When I got into my office on Monday morning the 27th, there was a frantic call on my message machine. It was William’s mom. It was the saddest message I had ever gotten on the phone. It broke my heart. It wasn’t until Tuesday morning that I was able to call the house. Dad answered the phone and we talked. In all of the time that I had known the family, they made it clear that they didn’t want any handouts from anyone. They were full of pride. It was tough to get dad’s permission at first when we bought the computer. On this particular day, Dad seemed stressed. I told him that I would like to come out and visit and he said that he and his wife would love it. I asked him if there was any way that I could help them, and he paused and said, "I don’t know what we are going to do about William’s funeral. We need any help anyone can give us."

I could tell that at that time he was setting aside his pride and that he truly needed the help. As soon as I got off of the phone, I immediately called Peggy Emhoff (WAPT secretary) and told her about what William’s dad had to say. I knew it was the last day of the WAPT conference, and I asked if I could get up and tell William’s story and ask for help from my extended transportation family. I had never spoken in front of 300 people before. I was very afraid. Once I got up there I knew what I had to do and I just did it.

The words just zipped out of my mouth and I told them everything. I did this during a brunch. Typically when speakers talk during a brunch, it is difficult to hear over the clanging of the silverware and dishes. I swear to you it was drop-dead silent. People were listening. At the end of the story I asked for help. It didn’t have to be much, but help is what this family needed so badly. There were women and men in that facility that had tears in their eyes. People were coming up to me with 50- and 20-dollar bills. The staff that was serving the meals also donated money. There was also a 50/50 drawing at the end of the conference. That person won $180. She donated it to William’s family.

When I first walked into the building I had $116 in sunshine fund money given to me by my drivers. When I walked out of the conference I had a total of over $1,700. It took no more than 15 minutes to raise money for this family that was truly in need but it will give me a lifetime of memories of what great people we have in this industry.

When I presented this to William’s mom and dad on the behalf of all the transportation in the state of Washington, she just dropped to the couch and cried. She was very appreciative of the help.

What I would love to see is that there be a scholarship fund set up for a driver to attend your conference every year in honor of William Ayala. I know that this would make William and his family very proud.

Throughout this I have learned that you can do anything. You just got to do it. I have also learned that people in our industry have a huge caring and loving heart. We don’t make a huge amount of money in our profession, but when someone is in need, we would give anything we have to help out one of our kids. Thank you to our 'Washington State Association for Pupil Transportation' family. You are the greatest."

More: Read William Ayala's online obituary.