Teen's Treasure

Teens' Treasure

High school head custodian Steve Birdsall has left his imprint on more than just the school’s floors and windows. For the second time in four years, seniors at Issaquah High School in Issaquah, Wash. (pop. 11,212), have chosen Birdsall—a 1968 graduate of the school—to give the keynote address at their graduation.

Birdsall, whom many students affectionately call “Uncle Steve,” never had any children of his own, but he proudly says, “I have 1,500 now.” And he knows them all by name. When they have a problem at school or home or with a boyfriend or girlfriend, he is one of the first people they confide in.

“They are absolutely hungry to talk to an adult,” says Birdsall, who tries to read the kids’ faces to tell what kind of day they are having. If they’re having a bad day, Uncle Steve lets them know he’s there to listen.

Why would teenagers trust a man old enough to be their father? “You know that what you tell him, he will keep confidential,” says senior Beth Knudtson, who has known Birdsall since he was a janitor at her elementary and middle school. “You feel that he is on your side, that he really cares about you.”

Knudtson, like many students, experiences that caring firsthand. Two years ago on her birthday, Birdsall surprised her with a piece of cake. He’s also loaned her and dozens of other students money for lunch when they forget it. And he attends all their games, where the kids enjoy his wicked sense of humor.

“He really yells when the refs make a bad call,” says Jennifer Loveridge, an Issaquah graduate. He calls the refs, ‘zebras’ and tells them they need to shake their heads, their eyes are stuck.”

But Birdsall can be dead serious when it comes to studying. “He is always asking, ‘So how are you doing in school? Did you finish your homework?’” Knudtson says. “He doesn’t let you fall behind.”

Steve Podmore, a former student body president, calls Birdsall “a kid at heart,” because he’s always cracking jokes and giving the teens playful nicknames.

That seems to come naturally to Birdsall, who owned a skateboard shop in the 1970s and found he had a knack for connecting with the younger generation. At Issaquah High, he not only understands the kids, he’s worked his way into their hearts.

“He’s a friend to everybody,” Loveridge says. “Everybody loves him.”

Especially the special education students. Uncle Steve not only befriends them, taking them to movies and out to lunch, he lets the whole school know how exceptional they are.

During his first keynote speech, Birdsall asked graduating senior Kirk Swetberg, a special education student Birdsall had known since kindergarten, to stand up when he mentioned him. “I spoke from my heart about what Kirk meant to me and what he’s done at the school,” Birdsall says.

Even though Swetberg now works in a movie theatre, Birdsall stays in touch, often taking the teenager out for a drive and a hamburger. It’s something he wishes more parents would do—pay more attention to their kids. Because that’s the problem as Birdsall sees it: too many parents focusing on their work rather than their children.

So what did he tell parents at the last graduation? “I tell them to not just stop and smell the roses but to stop and smell their kids—because they are turning into adults, and you don’t have much time to spend with them.”

Birdsall’s shining example continues to inspire all.

“To us kids he is not a janitor,” Knudtson says. “I almost think of him as being like our principal.”

Karen Karvonen is a frequent contributor to American Profile.

Upload Your Own Stories, Photos and Videos

Every week, American Profile magazine brings you stories that celebrate the people and places that make America great. Now we want to hear your stories and see your photos, videos and even audio.

 Start Uploading Now!

 

Discuss this Article