THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, January 31, 1996 TAG: 9601310028
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY TAMARA STANLEY, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 111 lines
PHYLLIS MITCHELL is the kind of woman who stops traffic. Dead.
As soon as Mitchell steps off the curb, rush hour traffic hurtling along Hampton Boulevard comes to a halt.
With a blast on her whistle, she struts into the intersection in her fluorescent orange-and-yellow vest. With her arms up and palms out, Mitchell reigns over the scene.
``Leeet's do it,'' she shouts toward preteens stepping off the curb. ``Have a good day, now,'' she calls after the students are safely on their way to school.
And then Mitchell moonwalks back toward the curb with a couple of heel-to-toe kicks.
The students call her ``The Dancing Lady.''
She's been puttin' on the moves ever since she started as a crossing guard 13 years ago.
``Well, I don't consider it dancing, but people who see me consider it dancing,'' she says of her moonwalk. ``I consider it watching the car so it don't hit me.
``If you're gonna hit me, I'm gonna see who's doing it.''
Although she ``dances'' for survival, the extra pep in her step makes her job easier, she says. Truckers often give her an appreciative toot and drivers sometimes wave.
``I feel like if I'm entertaining them (drivers) a little, then they'll have more patience. If I'm doing something out of the ordinary, then they stop being so anxious to run over me. And they start looking at me and say, `OK, what is she doin'? Oh, that's kinda neat. Oh, it's not so bad sitting here watchin' her. I'll wait an extra minute.' It works, so I keep doin' it. Yep, it works.''
Not always. She's gotten the one finger salute many times and has been blamed for causing accidents.
She's been hit a couple of times, too.
``I've climbed off a lot of hoods,'' she giggles. ``As a hood ornament, I look goood.''
``The Dancing Lady'' doesn't just wait around street corners for crossing kids. This is a woman with places to go.
She holds licenses as both a private investigator's and a Realtor. And after two 45-minute crossing shifts each morning, she hangs up her whistle and revs a strawberry Corolla toward an afternoon teaching job.
She returns to the streets late afternoon to escort kids walking home.
Then, three times a week, she's off to night classes at Tidewater Community College and Norfolk State University.
By 6:30 the next morning, she's stopping traffic and dancing in the streets.
When Mitchell, a 46-year-old divorced mother of two grown children, first took the job, she thought it was just about crossing. Yet, it deals with people - drivers and students - and people have emotions, she says.
To many of the students who see her every day, she's more than just ``The Dancing Lady.''
``She's real funny,'' said 12-year-old Latoya Cherry, a student at Rosemont Middle School. ``A good person.''
Mitchell is proud of the way ``her kids'' respond to her. ``They think I'm alive,'' she says.
``They say, `You're not like those old fogies,' that's what they call 'em, `You're human.'''
It's relating to the kids that Mitchell finds rewarding. She fills that gap between parents' good-byes and the ringing of the school bell, becoming counselor and confidant.
``If personal things happen in their life, they come to me. A lot of the time all I do is listen. The little girls, they think their moms don't care, don't understand. I say `Have you talked it over with your mom? No, my mom will kill me.' I say, `Honey, you know your mom would much rather you talk it over with her first.' And the majority of the time they come back and say, `You know, you were right.'
``And the little boys, it's like they have pimples and the girls hate `em and `This boy wants to beat me up because I like her.' I call `em together when they want to get in a confrontation and I mediate. When they leave, they shake hands and it's over.''
Mitchell's supervisor, Stephen Armstrong, says that it's Mitchell's ``sharp movements'' and ability to relate to children that make her popular.
``They have a big responsibility being out there everyday, like a second mom and pop,'' he said. ``They have to love and be able to talk to the kids, and do the job safely. She does both with a little extra flair.''
Between her crossing shifts, she's a teacher with the Learning Educational Skills for Preschoolers, a spin-off of DARE. She also works in armed security, and is an usher, choir singer and mentor for the youth in her church.
With her real estate and private investigating practices in referral, she concentrates on getting her liberal arts degree. She hopes to enter criminal psychology and work with the police to counsel problem kids.
How does she do it all? She says when her kids moved out and her 22-year marriage ended several years ago, she got a surge of energy.
Suddenly, she said, everyone was gone. Rather than slowing down, she hit the gas.
``You get into this situation of emptiness,'' she explained. ``I wasn't one of those women who freaked out. I focused on school.''
She got her private investigator and real estate licenses, began teaching and working in security, in addition to crossing.
``It's nice to have a lot of things to fall back on,'' she said. ``I know I won't be able to do this (crossing) all my life because of the weather and the strain. By the time this ends, I'll have a degree.''
Standing at the curb at Hampton Boulevard and Spotswood Avenue, she points at the traffic light. ``I hate this light. It never changes. It's a test. God said, `I'm gonna give you patience, I'm giving you this light.''' She giggles, loud and short.
The light finally turns green and ``The Dancing Lady'' is on the move.
``Leeeet's do it!'' she calls. ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
BILL TIERNAN/The Virginian-Pilot
by CNB