I lost a sizable chunk of my faith in humanity today. The drop-off line at elementary school can do that to me. It’s not the utter monotony of the queuing up in an endless parade of minivans and SUVs that bothers me. That part is often comical, verging on absurd. What troubles me is that a simple, civilized procedure has been hijacked by a few individuals who take the sense of entitlement to new heights.
They are a fascinating breed, the entitled folks. I’m not talking socioeconomic entitlement. I mean it more in an emotional and sometimes physical sense—they believe and act as if they deserve more of every slice of pie out there, and not because they earned it. They simply deserve more because they are better than us. It’s their world, not OURS to share. And they are wreaking havoc on the actual and the metaphorical drop-off lines that surround us.
Day after day I sit there. I have been in that line for nearly 6 years. I start off optimistic in September. I figure that after summer break and with the addition of new families to the school, it can take a few weeks for folks to get back in the rhythm of the drop-off procedure. We are seven weeks into the school year now, and I’m losing my patience for the entitlement and the resulting incompetency.
Each year the school administration communicates the drop-off procedure to parents via email and snail mail. Those communiques cogently inform us of the following:
1) If you want to participate in the drop-off line, your child must be capable of independently getting out of your vehicle (intended translation: While the word independent is confusing in the modern over-parenting era, the definition has not changed—independent means not relying on others for aid or support);
2) Under no circumstances should you park your car in the drop-off line to help your child exit the vehicle (intended translation: Although you are special because your SUV might be large, you are not permitted to create a parking space wherever you choose…doing so is backing up traffic and negatively impacting others);
3) If your child needs assistance exiting the car, no problem. You can park your car and help walk your child to their class line (intended translation: Don’t even enter the drop-off line…kindly park on the street so the line can proceed safely and without interruption);
4) If you forget the rules, we are fortunate to have a kind and brave gentleman who is responsible for directing traffic to help the process move in a safe and efficient manner. Let me say that again—he is there to keep the children and staff SAFE. Note: he is not there for you to verbally abuse day after day when you break the rules.
5) If you fail to see the gentleman dressed in safety orange because your coffee hasn’t kicked in yet, the school has placed a large sign out that says: “Pull forward to this sign.” This requires reading, which I realize some folks simply don’t have the time to do. Again, they are too important.
Let me get back to today’s grievance. A woman in front of me decided that she would ignore both the sign and the traffic director. She stopped her car about 50 yards before reaching the large “Pull forward to this sign” board and parked. She got out of her vehicle and walked around to let her child out—slowly, at that. Then, she stood and watched her child walk to the school yard. Not once did she look back at the massive line of traffic accumulating behind her car. As the traffic director ran to her to implore her to move her car, she casually strolled back to her vehicle and shouted something nasty to him, the unsavory content of which is not worth repeating. Suffice it to say that she was not interested in the rules. She had to drop her son off. The rest of us could wait.
Here’s the thing. She is not the only one. There are others. I will even humor the entitlement for a moment. YOUR KIDS ARE MORE SPECIAL THAN MINE. AND YOUR TIME IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN MINE. Because you are so special, you can park and stay far away from us silly average Joes who believe in adhering to the system. It might be shocking to learn, but some of us actually believe in rules still. We have jobs, sick children in tow and countless things that we also need to accomplish today. Our time matters too. We ALL matter.
If we as parents can’t follow simple rules on the drive up to school, aren’t there larger implications? If that’s your mindset, where does it stop? The school parking lot, the soccer field? Does your child even have to follow the rules once they enter the school building or are they arbitrary like the drop-off rules? Have I missed the memo that rules are somehow unfashionable, or even worse, optional? I am willing to follow the slippery slope here to societal norms and laws to prove the point that even our simple choices matter.
Where Does It End?
If you get it wrong at drop-off, what are you doing the rest of your day? Do you push someone aside to get on a train? Do you speak on your cell phone loudly in a waiting room that bans phones? Do you take more time in the checkout line? Do you really think the rest of us don’t exist? Do you really think your kids aren’t watching as you flout the rules and provide a vivid example of what bad behavior looks like?
I’m not brazen enough to make the broad jump here that fixing the entitled drop-off line behavior will usher in world peace and political stability. I’m not even sure those ideals are attainable in our current geopolitical climate. I wonder though, if we could all act like there actually is someone behind us, that there are real people all around us whose lives are just as important as ours, whose problems weigh on them just as heavily as ours do, wouldn’t that be a better world?
We have certain rules and systems in place for things like school drop-off, but the truth is we should not even need them. Human decency should dictate that in any kind of line you don’t cut and you don’t take extra time when you get your turn. If you demonstrate kindness and consideration for the fellow human beings around you, something amazing becomes possible: the chaos dissipates, tempers cool, everyone is equal, no one person is more special than the rest. We all matter, even on the drop-off line.