If you take the bus to school, then you’ve probably noticed that when you step onto the Bishop’s grounds, a joyful figure stands by Gilman Hall, often greeting you with a beaming smile.
This grin is that of Mr. Sheldon Davis, our new Transportation and Operations Project Manager, or as he put it, one of the many people who “ensure that the students are safe,” especially on their commutes to and from Bishop’s. He has only been on campus for a few weeks, but students already call his name in the hallways.
In his time so far at Bishop’s, Mr. Davis has started his mornings the same: holding court in the front lot with his transportation team. Growing up in Brooklyn, Mr. Davis is no stranger to cold — much less what locals deem “chilly” La Jolla morning air — and he stands outside ready to wave hello as the school buses roll in.
“I like to lead by example,” Mr. Davis said, “so if [my team] is out there, I shouldn’t be up here behind my computer,” he explained, gesturing over his desk. His morning routine is part of a greater effort to “get a lot of face time” and establish connections with students and staff he may not see during the regular day.
But Mr. Davis’ effervescent presence is not contained to the steps of Gilman Hall for only morning bus commuters to behold. He also has a habit of popping in on student activities. He has played in the Associate Student Body (ASB) student vs. faculty volleyball game and is committed to participating in Airband, the student-led musical performance.
Math Teacher and ASB Co-Advisor Ms. Dolores Williamson said she was “very surprised that he signed up to play for the volleyball game,” and that it “spoke to him wanting to be part of the community.”
Neil Koura (‘28) was bewildered and later impressed when Mr. Davis asked if he could join in on a pick-up lunch basketball game. “I didn’t know who he was at the time,” Neil explained, “but I thought it was pretty cool that a faculty member just wanted to play basketball and be a part of the community.”
Mr. Davis’ aptitude for athletics extends far beyond pick-up games. He is an avid basketball player and is currently training for a marathon, which he hopes to run in May.
Wesley Pearson (‘27), who was also playing at the pick-up game, agreed. “It was cool. He kind of lightened things up [and] got the ball moving around a little bit more … [now] whenever I see him walking by in the hallways, I always say, ‘What’s up?’”
Mr. Davis has enjoyed similar friendly greetings across campus, but for someone so enthusiastic about meeting everyone, remembering all those names has proven a challenge. His major goal for the near future is to learn as many people’s names as possible. So much so that he has proposed a deal to the student body: “If you’ve told me your name three times, and I can’t remember it the fourth time, I’ll do 10 push-ups.”
For Mr. Davis, these interactions are not unintentional. “As a kid growing up,” he explained, “I used to enjoy when adults would come and join our games.”
“There’s a perception of adulthood,” he continued, “that you always have to be serious, which is true for the majority of the time, but there are times when you can show some of that vulnerability. I have that kid in me just as much as you do.”
Even so, Mr. Davis still firmly believes in structure. “The most important thing [about my job] is safety… your parents trust us as a transportation sector to ensure that we get you from point A to point B, and that’s a big responsibility.”
Mr. Davis is a veteran and believes his time in the military instilled some of the responsibility he still lives by today. The military also taught him how to remain cheerful, even in challenging situations. “My grandparents always used to tell me, you have a bright light in you,” he said. “So no matter what your circumstances, make sure that you keep that bright light.”
Mr. Davis’ light has shone all across campus in his first few weeks at Bishop’s, with students, faculty, and staff all appreciating his cheerful presence.
If you ever happen to spot Mr. Davis walking around campus or pass by his office in Gilman, he wants you to know, “the door is open.” And tell him your name — for the sake of his triceps.
