Photo by Kelli S. Hewett.
Pizitz Middle School custodian Orenzo “Mr. O” Hardy
Pizitz Middle School custodian Orenzo “Mr. O” Hardy turns small moments into lasting impact.
Before students at Pizitz Middle School ever cheered his name at pep rallies, custodian Orenzo Hardy walked the locked halls of a state-run youth detention facility, cleaning 10-by-10-foot rooms where boys as young as 10, battling addiction and mental health issues, stared out from “that little square box” Hardy could never forget.
“I never liked seeing the kids’ faces inside that detention hall, inside that little square box,” he said, shaking his head. “I would always tell them, ‘You’re bigger than that box.’ I could never get used to it.”
Walking into a school where children were smiling and waving felt like stepping into sunlight.
“It was nice, it was clean, it was quiet, it was professional,” Hardy said. “The kids were happy, smiling, waving. First day, they were waving.”
They now know him as “Mr. O,” the adult who will help with locker combinations, lost backpacks, confusing schedules or hurt feelings — and who will shut down food fights with “fun trouble” that turns into a lesson.
One father pulled him aside to say he’s now a fixture at their dinner table, showing up in the stories his children share every night.
“He says, ‘Please keep communicating with my son and my daughter and getting them ‘fun trouble,’ because you make a difference in their life,’” Hardy said.
Assistant Principal Russell Leonard said Hardy’s impact is seen in the halls, with secret handshakes and calling every kid by name, and even at school pep rallies.
“When Mr. O runs through the spirit line with the teams, the place explodes,” Leonard said. “You hear kids chanting his name from both sides. That kind of ovation? You don’t get that unless you’ve earned their respect. He’s the most relational person I’ve ever met.”
Hardy’s journey is intriguing. A childhood spent learning floor care, assisting in his mother’s beauty salons, years serving in the military as an engineer and in biological warfare, earning a cosmetology degree, then owning his own hair salons, have all shaped his approach.
He began at Cahaba Heights Elementary in January 2020 when an acquaintance told him about the opening. He then transferred to Pizitz in 2023.
Now his day begins at 6 a.m. — unlocking doors, prepping gyms, checking restrooms and concession stands, policing grounds and fields. He thinks of his work as both sanitation and customer service.
“No matter what happens, you’re needed,” Hardy said. “You can make a staff member’s day go positive. You can make a kid’s day go positive. You can make a whole classroom go positive.”
Hardy’s talent for cleaning floors has also become a signature superpower – the stuff of legends in cleaning circles. Students see only hallways under their feet; Hardy sees a cast of characters in a story waiting to be told.
“Every tile has a personality to it,” he said. “You’ve got to bring it out. That tile reflects the floor in the building.”
When a kid stops short, convinced the gleaming surface is still wet, he takes it as a review: job well done.
He shrugs off the compliments and celebrity. He remembers instead the student who once sat alone in the lunchroom until Hardy quietly asked a popular player to join him — and watched the rest of the table follow.
“Everybody deserves to have a friend,” he said. “Everybody deserves to be treated right.”
