On any given morning at Cairo High School, the first faces students see are not their teachers but the men and women who keep the building safe. For this team, safety is about more than rules—it’s about relationships.

Kathy McAllister has been Cairo’s hall monitor for two years, but her connection to the district goes back much further. She drove a school bus for 33 years before moving into her current role. “I drove for Head Start, for Mounds, for Tamms, and then for Cairo Public Schools,” she explained. “Now I’m here in the halls instead of on the bus, but it’s still about keeping kids safe.”

Every day, McAllister logs who is moving through the halls, asking for passes, and checking where students are headed. She writes down the times they leave class and the times they return. It may seem routine, but she knows the accountability matters. “If I see them in the hall, I stop them,” she said. “They’ve got to let me know where they’re going.” Just like when she drove a bus, her consistency builds trust.

The school’s security staff bring their own experience to the job. Shawn Box has been part of the team for five years. Termaine “Ten” Wright is in his first year, though he is already well-known by students. Both men are Cairo graduates themselves, with long histories in the community. “Most of us were born and raised here,” Box said. “We know their parents, we know their grandparents. They know us.” That history creates a natural respect between staff and students, one that makes their presence feel familiar instead of intimidating.

Their day begins at 7:15, when buses roll up to the school. Security checks bags, monitors the metal detector, and uses wands to ensure nothing dangerous comes inside. They keep an eye on bathrooms, the cafeteria, and the gym, moving constantly through the building. At ball games, they provide coverage in the stands and by the doors, adding extra layers of safety at the district’s most crowded events.

But perhaps their most important role is as listeners. “Most of the kids are just looking for somebody they can talk to,” Box explained. Students stop by to vent, to laugh, or to share what’s on their minds. Sometimes, it’s just a greeting in the morning that makes a difference. McAllister makes it a habit to ask every student she sees how their day is going. Wright agrees: “They just want somebody to listen. That’s what we’re here for.”

The challenges are real. Fights do happen, often sparked by rumors or conflicts that begin on cell phones and spill over into school. Both Box and Wright have been injured breaking up altercations. Once, Box even took the brunt of a Taser when police were trying to subdue a student. “It went through her and into me,” he recalled. “Not an experience I want to repeat.” Despite the risks, he keeps coming back. “This is home,” he said. “I love being around these kids.”

Even when things are tough, the team works together to keep order. School policy now limits student phone use, cutting down on the drama that technology can stir up. The staff practice lockdown drills and code-red procedures, preparing for scenarios they hope never happen. And in day-to-day routines, they lean on consistency—greeting students, asking questions, and staying visible.

The relationships they’ve built matter. Students who might otherwise see security as adversaries instead see them as mentors, role models, or just friendly adults who care. Box sometimes shares stories of his own athletic success—anchoring state championship track relays back in the 1980s—and laughs when students don’t believe him until they see his picture on the wall. McAllister jokes and teases, building rapport with humor. Wright says he’s simply there to make sure kids know someone is on their side.

None of them claim the job is easy, but all of them agree it’s worthwhile. “These kids, they know why we’re here,” Box said. “And they respect us for it.” McAllister added, “I just like being special to them. They know I’m looking out for them.”

For Cairo’s students, the security team and hall monitor are more than authority figures. They are reminders that safety and care go hand in hand, and that the best kind of protection is built on trust.