Once Sabrina Carter had safely parked her yellow bus outside a New Orleans public school one recent morning, she walked down the aisle toward the elementary and middle school students on board.
"We're raising our arms," she said, stretching toward the ceiling. "We're raising our fingers."
The students snapped to attention, eagerly following along as Carter led their morning routine.
In the two years since she became a bus driver to connect with kids in her community and spread positivity, Carter has taken the time to get to know each of the roughly 30 students on her route individually.
She builds trust with them through small acts: calling parents to give them updates on their children, leading group stretches and chants, and offering incentives, like snacks or small toys, when students show up to their bus stop on time and ready to learn.
The New Orleans native, who struggled after losing her mother as a teen, said she wants every child to feel seen -- a goal that requires her to go beyond her basic job duties.
"Just showing up with a bus isn't enough," Carter said. "We need to be more involved."
Parents say Carter -- or "Miss Sabrina," as students call her -- has improved their children's attitudes toward learning by making their daily commute to school entertaining and educational.
"She's been really, really amazing," said Tori Combast, whose two daughters take Carter's bus to school. "Miss Sabrina's made it a very safe and fun environment."
"She's nice," added Combast's daughter, fourth grader Raelin.
When adults like Carter go the extra mile to build rapport with students and bring them a little joy, they're also giving students a reason to show up and engage in school, said Todd Rogers, a public policy professor at Harvard University who studies ways to reduce student absenteeism.
"A caring adult is going to help them with that at every stage," he said.
A difficult upbringing
For Carter, who has four adult children and 10 grandchildren, plus three students she calls her "adopted" grandchildren, connecting with young people feels like a calling.
Carter was 17 years old and weeks away from graduating at the top of her class at Walter L. Cohen High School when her mother died. She and her brother struggled to move forward without the support of close family.
"I was grieving so terribly," Carter said, recalling how she stopped attending school after her mother's death. Now, "I always ask myself which kids might be struggling like that."
Despite her knack for it, Carter's work with children began nearly by accident.
When her daughters were in school in the 90s, Carter became fed up with neighborhood children knocking on her door after school asking if her daughters could play. She had a strict rule that her children weren't allowed outside until they finished their homework, yet the knocking continued.
Finally, she began asking the neighborhood children if they had homework they should be doing too. Little by little, she coaxed them to do their schoolwork under her supervision.
It wasn't long before she had more than a dozen children in her home on any given afternoon, all hard at work.
Carter began to slip dollar bills inside books to encourage the kids in her care to read. The ploy worked, and afternoon homework time eventually turned into evening reading sessions.
"It was just a marvelous idea," she said with a laugh. "They wanted to read the whole book because they wanted to get to the money."
Once her children were grown, Carter turned to violence prevention work in her spare time.
Using tip money she earned as a bartender, she put together community events for teens in New Orleans' Seventh Ward, hosting cookouts with lots of food and music "just to spark some kindness," she said.
The events gave her an opportunity to talk to local teens about their lives and encourage them to keep their weapons down. She said she tries to model positive thinking, believing that the way to change young people's behavior is to change how they view the world.
"Any activity I do with kids is basically to get into their mind," she said, "into their way of thinking."
A new calling
After years of organizing anti-violence events for teens, Carter spoke with a police officer who argued that the most critical time to work with young people is when they're in elementary or middle school. At that age, he said, you can help steer them toward the right path.
When a friend alerted her to the city's need for bus drivers and encouraged her to apply, Carter thought it seemed like a chance to put that theory to the test.
Her first year on the job, she made every effort to connect with students and brighten their days.
She started off small by implementing a system where kids could earn points by completing small tasks. Show up to the bus stop on time: one point. Throw your trash away: another.
Students who earned enough points could trade them in for treats -- Takis, the spicy rolled tortilla chips, were particularly popular. Carter purchased the snacks out of her own pocket.
"They were so eager," she said. "That just triggered me to do so much more."
She began encouraging parents to become more engaged. Wait at the bus stop with your children: earn points. Tell your children you love them before leaving: more points.
Next, she instituted "bus partners," encouraging kids to exchange phone numbers with another student on the bus and call them every morning to make sure they were up and getting ready.
With all the attention and guidance she gives the students, some see her as a surrogate grandparent -- a role she happily embraces. Afternoon car rides to sports practices often include a mix of Carter's own grandchildren and her students.
"I remember needing something like that when my mom passed away," she said. "I try to pass it on and give the kids, hopefully, what most people think they should be getting at home."
Parents say Carter has been a godsend.
"My daughters come home talking about the reward system," said Combast, the parent with two daughters on Carter's bus route. "They get really excited about it."
Vallena Wright, whose two sons ride on Carter's bus, said Carter often calls families while she's completing her route to tell them if she's running late or to remind them to make sure their child is outside in time for pickup.
"They love her," Wright said of her sons. "She never misses a day, and she spoils them."
Back on the bus that recent morning, Carter dropped off her middle schoolers then drove to the elementary school, parked, and stood up to face her youngest students.
"What is our Spanish word of the week?" she called out.
"Honesto!" they shouted back.
"What does that mean?"
"Honest!"
"What are you in school for?"
"To learn!"
"And who are you going to be kind to?"
"Everyone!"
Then Carter gave each child a hug before they filed out of her bus and headed into school.