Ups and Downs, and the Little Bus

I'd never been on the inside of the "short bus", so it was interesting. That is a LOT of seatbelts! As kiddo's companions got on, I had the realization that not all the children who ride these buses would be classified as special needs. Now, kiddo could never be left on his own at a bus stop, nor dropped at one and be expected to make it back on his own. Also, the seatbelts are needed because he has a tendency to get up and wander. He's been on special transit ever since he started kindergarten.
His adorable friend Anika is in a similar state, but perhaps even more so with a much more severe disorder (I've never asked her mom what the diagnosis is, but, well, while painfully sweet and instantly endearing, it is very clear immediately that there's a severe delay). She's probably one of the sweetest little gals you'd ever meet, always ready to run up and greet you with the biggest grin ever and a big "HIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!" I love her to pieces, and since I know her so well, I always try to look out for her whenever I'm with the school children.
There's also his friend Patrick, whose delay seems similar to kiddo's, with a more pronounced speech delay. These are all the types of kids I would expect on special transit, as well as physical disabilities (of which there are none at kiddo's school, as far as I know). So I guess I was a bit bewildered when I saw approximately four cihldren on his bus with no apparent signs of disability, physical or otherwise. Granted, I'm not a trained therapist, so it's hard to say if there wasn't anything just not readily noticeable. But other than being awfully wound up, these kids seemed fine. In fact, the eldest girl on there, a sweet looking mixed girl, spoke with an articulation I would've expected from a much older child. A child with a european accent seemed to be attempting to instigate a conversation with her, and a younger black girl with an adorable little poof of a pigtail on top of her head that sat in front of me and kiddo. She turned around a few times to brightly smile and say hi to us, and I found her to be charming. Then there was the boy who the driver demanded sit in the very front, and I could quickly see why.
This little...tyrant was loud and quite obnoxious. And I'm not just talking in the typical kid with too much energy way, I'm talking unruley, trying to pick fights with the other kids verbally, and shouting at his topmost volume. Behavioral issues was a minor description. The poor bus driver had to pull over twice to et him to shut up, and seemed to be at his wits end trying to get this kid to just chill out.
Now, obviously I wouldn't be freaking out over a kid who was mouthing off. Hey, it's grade school. It happens, right? But what shocked me was the crap coming out of this kid's mouth. I'm not talking about a few curses here and there.
I'm talking about racial slurs. The poor girl in front of me was beside herself trying to brush it off, I felt so bad for her. The elder one was smart and kept ignoring his incitements. Then finally, he screeched "My dad told me never to talk to black people!!!"
I calmly looked at Anthony and said very loudly, "That is very wrong thinking. I never EVER want you to repeat whatever that boy says". He looked sweetly up at me, oblivious as to what transpired. Thankfully Anika seemed to be in her own little world at the time, and I don't believe Patrick was on the bus when it was uttered. See, those three kids are at a point where they don't yet know about racial differences, or lack thereof. As far as kiddo's concerned, everybody's the same, some might just be a little more tan. I like it that way. I was raised that way, too.
Now, the driver did nothing, and I realized that he probably didn't hear it. The engine noise is pretty concentrated around the front of the bus. I didn't say anything as we got off, I was still pondering the entire event. I thought of what to say to an authority there, who I would be able to talk to, and what, if anything, they could do.
I could tell a teacher, but if that horrible thinking is comng from Daddy, well, it's not like a call home can realy do a lot of good, right? It's sad when you think of how ignorance and hate propagate so quickly through a child's upbringing. Even if they tried to discipline the child for it, if Dad's a racist, then he'd probably protest any backlash.
*sigh* The only thing I can do is indeed write a letter, and express my deep concern about the other children being exposed to this kind of behavior. I understand why kiddo, An, and Patrick ride that bus, but all the more reason to want to protect them from a child like this. I wrote to the teacher, and intend to follow through with an identical complaint to the principal. Luckily I knew the offending child's name.
I probably never would've even known about any of this had I not ridden the bus with him that afternoon. Anthony doesn't know well enough to tell me about something like this, because he wouldn't understand any of it. And since it seems the driver never heard it (or at worse, chose to ignore it), nothing would've been done to acknowledge it.
Well, here's hoping some good can come out of this. I'm still mortified, I guess I had hoped that being close enough to a metro area, we wouldn't face rampant racism. But at least I was there to hear it, and hopefully help tamp it down.