Tension in the Air
I got out my uniform this morning, checked to see that it was pressed and spotless. I have been nervous every day this week since the incident with the young white girl sitting in the back of the bus. Now it seems like every day there is some tension on the bus, every day since that Rosa Parks lady threatened to call the bus boycott in Montgomery. The question we keep asking ourselves is, will Birmingham be next?
I keep reminding myself that my job is to keep myself and my passengers safe. What is the right thing to do when there are no rules about what is right. We were talking about this very issue at the union hall the other night. No one thought that a white teenager would cross the color line to sit in the back of the bus. We had been expecting some black students from a local college would try to sit in the front of the bus. Still there are no rules telling us what to do. In the past, we had been ordered in case of disturbances, to stop the bus, walk to a pay phone and call the police. But this really didn’t feel like the right thing to do. I didn’t want to leave the bus, unprotected in case somebody meant to vandalize it.
I pullled over when the teenager yanked the cord to exit at the Center Point stop. She was carrying a large suitcase and could barely pull it down the front stairs. After so much angry silence when she inappropriately stepped to the back of the bus and sat down next to an elderly black lady behind the color line. There was a lot of muted mumbling under people’s breath, barely audible threats and some rude comments about her being a troublemaker. “She should be arrested for disturbing the peace,” someone snapped.
She said something like “Have a nice day,” as she tripped away from the door and I was so surprised I replied back–“You too,” giving a small wiggle to a couple of fingers. The tension melted away and I pulled away from the curb, leaving her to struggle alongside the highway with her oversized luggage. I wondered if I would be reported to the front office, given a reprimand, dressed down but nothing happened. No complaints. When I talked to my union rep, he advised me to forget the incident. “Nothing happened: There’s nothing to report.” He said. But he was wrong. The color bar was moved a few inches to make a small change. More would follow.
Rita Ayral
4-9-18