Dancing crossing guard guides kids across perilous intersection

Stand at the corner of Fourth Avenue and 39th Street on any weekday morning and you’ll see the whole kinetic world of Sunset Park rush by. Heavy trucks blast through, bikers thread the gaps, commuters push the lights, MTA buses swing toward and away from the Jackie Gleason Depot on Fifth. In the middle of it all, a single crossing guard dances kids through the chaos so they can make it to school in one piece.

Laura Tucker started working this crazy intersection in September 2024 after a week of NYPD training. It’s her first corner, and she says it’s a perfect fit.

"I love it," Tucker says. "I'm crazy, so it's for me."

When we meet her, it’s just after 9:30 on a Friday morning. Most of her kids are already in class (she calls the moms, dads, and kids she watches over “hers”), but she still guides parents with strollers and other pedestrians across the lanes with a practiced sweep of her handheld stop sign. Bus drivers honk hello. Toddlers greet her by name. She wishes everyone a good morning.

In a little over a year, Tucker has settled into the role like a seasoned conductor reigning over an orchestra of diesel, petrol, and electric vehicles. She does it all while dancing. Her soundtrack is Pandora, usually Crystal Waters or Dua Lipa.

“Their stations are rocking,” she says. “It gets me through the day.”

Originally from Brownsville, she moved to Sunset Park three years ago. Her music pumps from small Bluetooth speakers she picked up at the local Five Below after one of her parents suggested she upgrade from her phone.

“I went there and got my little speaker, and I be jamming,” she says. “I got two of them.” She shows off her small Cinnamoroll-themed speaker, and a Stitch one for backup.

Tucker is a performer by nature, and her job gives her an audience. Between signals, she sings, dances, and uses her voice to catch the attention of speeding drivers. Her stop sign becomes both a tool of safety and a prop for self-expression.

You’d think the intersection would be stressful, but Tucker shakes her head.

“It’s not stressful for me, to be honest,” she says. “If you’re paying attention, if you know what you’re doing and you see what I see, then you know everything is smooth.”

As she talks, she keeps mental tabs on all the bikes, buses, trucks, and walkers. Most intersections on Fourth Avenue cross one-way streets, but 39th runs both ways, eight lanes of oncoming traffic, ten if you count the bike lanes, with half a dozen schools in the vicinity.

“It’s a lot,” she says. “But I got it down pat, you know?”

She says she loves Sunset Park. “It’s a little different from Brownsville, but I’m adjusting,” she says. What keeps her grounded are the kids.

“I love to see the kids. They always come run to me,” Tucker beams. “They come and give me a pound.”

Before this, she worked in childcare, and she still does cleaning on the side. “Gotta save every penny and every dollar,” she says. “I have three kids and one grandchild.”

Tucker hardly looks old enough to be a grandmother. She credits “going with the flow” and her mother’s genes for keeping her young.

There have been no accidents during her shifts, but she admits the work has its risks. “It is dangerous, but I love danger,” she says, smiling. “It keeps me going. I protect everyone that’s around here. I would not like to see anybody get hit on my corner. I will never let that happen."

When older kids jaywalk farther down the block, she stops traffic until they’re across.

"They'll be honking and waiting," she shrugs. "Listen, I don't care, you gotta wait." She admonishes the children, warning them of the danger.

She'll also put her own body on the line when it looks like somebody might try to run a red light, a not uncommon occurrence during rush-hour traffic.

"I go right in front of them so they can see me," says Tucker. "I let them know, first I put out my sign and I let them know."

Adding to her challenges, some of the traffic lights at the intersection are covered, confusing drivers and pedestrians. Tucker says she’s flagged the problem to passing Department of Transportation workers, but nothing has changed.

After speaking with her, we called 311. The service transferred the report to 911, and they documented the issue. The lights will hopefully be back on line soon.

Meanwhile, Tucker will keep watching the lanes, guarding her kids, and guiding folks through one of the busiest crossings in the neighborhood, dancing while she does it, with music, gratitude, and a tiny Cinnamoroll Bluetooth speaker hanging from her vest.