Seattle Sun Newspaper - Vol. 7, Issue 3, March 2003

Copyright 2003 Jane Lotter, Do not use without the permission of the author.

Jane Explains:

Double Cross

By Jane Lotter

So now, in yet another budget-cutting move, Seattle may phase out its school crossing-guard program. This is pathetic. I mean, how low can we go?

Next, they'll send out work crews to fill in those little wheelchair cut-outs in the sidewalk.

Where I live, in Maple Leaf, the traffic is only getting worse. A few weeks ago, I was at the intersection of NE 80th and 5th Avenue NE, where I observed that a delivery van had plowed into somebody's yard and UP THEIR FRONT STEPS. It was like, hello! Speedy delivery!

There were police officers snapping photos and a tow truck driver scratching his head trying to figure out how to get the van off the front porch, and I just kept thinking, whoa, must remember to look both ways when descending front steps.

About a week later, I passed Bagley Elementary School, near Green Lake. A car had gone off the road, up onto the sidewalk, and SMASHED INTO THE SIDE OF THE SCHOOL. This time I was thinking, whoa, must remember to look both ways when breathing.

If Seattle's school crossing-guard program does get phased out, there's talk by city officials that a volunteer program could possibly replace it. Well! That ought to go over big. Who doesn't want to get up at six in the morning, throw an orange vest over their jammies, and run out and direct traffic in the rain and cold for no pay?

Of course, if there has to be a volunteer system, I suggest we let the kids run it. Remember that book "Lord of the Flies"?

The kids could control key intersections near schools throughout the city. They'd let children, teachers, moms and dads, and stray dogs go across. Everybody else would have to go around. Preferably by light rail.

"Hey, Tommy, look who's coming! It's Mayor Nickels and Seattle Public School Superintendent Olchefske out for a stroll. Shall we let 'em cross?"

"Nah. Make 'em crawl."

"Yah! Yah! Make 'em get their suits dirty."

"Tell 'em they can only cross if they got a good score on the WASL," suggests one kid.

Another kid joins in. "Tell 'em this is a drug-free zone and they can't cross, 'cause my mom says anybody who'd take away the school crossing guards must be on something."

"I've got an idea," says a tiny, high-pitched voice. It's one of the littlest kids. She's about five years old, dressed in pink and wearing a Barbie backpack.

An older kid, the ringleader, holds up a hand. "Guys, listen up! Cindi's got an idea." Everybody turns to look at Cindi.

"Well," Cindi says, "I think, ummm, we should make the mayor and the superintendent cross in front of an SUV." She winds her ponytail around her fingers. "You know, by themselves. Like they want us to."

There's a moment's silence, then the ringleader speaks. "Guys, that's a great idea! Get it? We'll make 'em step directly into the path of an oncoming sport utility vehicle!"

Other children chime in. "Yeah! And the driver's sleep deprived!"

"Yeah! And he's on the cell phone!"

Sam, a promising and bookish child who always scores well on standardized tests, pipes up. "But not an SUV," he suggests. "That's too easy. Let's wait for a Humvee!"

"Sweet," says the ringleader, nodding his head appreciatively. "Sammy's right. We'll wait for a privately owned military-grade vehicle! We're in Seattle that shouldn't take long!

The chanting begins: "Hum-vee! Hum-vee! Hum-vee!"

The chant is taken up by schoolchildren all across the city. It echoes out over Elliott Bay and into the offices of City Hall and Seattle Public Schools. Where I hope it's heard by anyone so short-sighted as to think Seattle should end its school crossing-guard program.

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E-mail Jane at janeexplains@attbi.com.