The substitute's world is an interesting one. And by interesting, I mean in the way one politely conveys uncomfortably strange and unwelcome rather than inciting real interest or excitement. In short, subbing kind of sucks.
That is not to say that some days aren't legitimately incitant and exciting. Or, at the very least, amusing.
Cases in point:
I get a half-day/afternoon 2nd grade job in an undisclosed location. The kids return from lunch and gather on the carpet before the white board as this is their customary after-lunch activity. They know what to do. They know what is allowed. They know the drill. So do I. One student is in charge of conducting the afternoon meeting in which they depict the number of school days it has been thus far in several ways - using fake money, creating equations, counting with bundles of sticks, etc. The meeting is going as smoothly as a meeting with a substitute in the room could be. I'm practically babysitting while another student teaches. Wonder upon wonders, this is fantastic! For, now I've the time to learn the lesson I'm supposed to teach later.
Half-way through deciding what fun and crazy implementations I'll be utilizing for this upcoming math lesson, I hear a whine:
"Miiiiiisseeess AAANDEERSOOOOOOOooOOOON?
I look up from my work.
"Yes?"
"Corey's EEEATING!"
I rise from the desk and make my way militantly to the front of the room, keeping my eye out for this Corey. I know I'll be able to pick him out. He'll be the one with the wide eyes and the hands behind his back, probably hiding a bag of gummies or the last remnants of his chocolate milk.
To my surprise, there is no child with either.
There is, however, a small boy sitting cross-legged (criss-cross-applesauce) and mawing down on an entire cob of corn, butter dripping down his arms.
All that was missing were a pair of overalls and bare feet.
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I had the opportunity for a 5-day long sub job in a 5th grade class in a mysterious school-like building. Brilliant! Not only is this a secure job for an entire week but it gives me a chance to actually get to know the students. One of the worst components of subbing is not being able to call out a misbehaving child from across the room because you don't know their name. There's no way I'm asking them personally. I am not naive enough to think a 5th grader will give a sub their real name when they know they haven't been meeting expectations. And if you've ever been there, crossing a room in the middle of whatever you're doing just to get a child's attention is awful. Knowing a student's name is to own them.
My third day into the job, I'm asked to conduct a school-wide survey with the class. One of the questions asked is who is conducting the survey. At this point, my name is no longer on the board. If I can learn and remember 25 names in 3 days, they can learn one. As the students are filling out their sheets, one student pipes up:
"Are you Mrs. or Miss?"
Before I can even reply, another student blurts out:
"Duh, it's MRS! That's why her last name is Anderson!"
Apparently, and I did not know this, women do not get last names until they are married. I love being a life-long learner.
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When I went in for a 4th grade job in a rather curious academic center last year, I had long ago decided that bringing a full-on lunch was both inconvenient and pointless. I never had time to eat and I was lucky if anyone told me where the staff lounge even was. Thank you to those office workers who gave me quick tours before sending me to my classroom!! It's so much easier to start your day with confidence if you know something other than your $20,000 education.
It came down to the lunch hour (almost 40 minutes if you want to get technical) and at many of the schools I've worked at, the children have a 15 minute recess beforehand. So, I send them out on their merry way, glad for a bit of respite so that I can focus on what sort of craziness is in store for me for the afternoon.
While I'm setting up for some literature circles, one of the students comes sauntering back in (these kids have swagger these days, who put a spring in their step? I immediately decide, with my jaded substitute attitude, that I will be the one to take it back out!) and sees me grab a quick handful of animal crackers from a small baggie in my briefcase.
"Is that all you brought for lunch, Mrs. Anderson?"
"Yep. I've got lots of work to do so I just need something quick."
". . . . . . . .Well. . . .we just learned yesterday from Mrs. [insert health lady's name here] that lunch is really important and I don't want you to be tired for the rest of the day. I think it would affect your teaching us."
Flabbergasted.
"Maybe if I help you with your work, you can stop and have my other sandwich because my mom made me two and I'm pretty full."
Sweetest. Thing. Ever. Although, I'm not sure if his concern was actually for me or for himself and the deficiency in learning he'd have to be subjected to if I wasn't energized enough to keep up.
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Sometimes I come home and I have these fantastic stories to share. Even the ones that proved to be somewhat difficult turn into a great personal lesson for me and become these great anecdotes to have in my arsenal of experiences. Sometimes I come home and I never want to go back. Those are days I am both thankful for and entirely exhausted and fed up with subbing. Thankful because it's not my class and I don't have to return if I don't want to. Entirely exhausted and fed up because I begin to wonder if I'm cut out for this.
There is a simple yet accurate wheel chart describing the teacher's lifelong career in stages. First comes induction and survival stage, followed by competency and enthusiasm. Then you hit a frustrating wall; the burnout stage. If you can make it past the burnout, you reach stability and the, hopefully comfortable, career wind-down.
I go through this wheel every day.
I can't say that, having been a substitute now for 3 years, I have a newfound respect for those individuals who come in as replacement teachers. The substitutes I remember, at least from my high school days, sound more like cartoon characters than professional, effective teachers when described. The following names are real and only used because, for some of them, the name's the thing. Also, I'm not being paid to write this and they are adults so. . .I can get away with it.
Take Mr. Antoinette, for example. Super Italian. Shock of black curly hair with a hint of grey. Sophisticated. Dressed rather snappily, actually. Tall, slim. Hands in the pockets say, 'I'm professional but laidback enough to ensure mutual respect and awe.'
False. If this man had never opened his mouth, his demeanor might have worked wonders for him. However, upon opening said mouth, he would spew forth the most ridiculous of stories, the most prevalent being that he was best friends with Ed O'Neill, the actor who portrayed Al Bundy on Married With Children. I'm not sure if he believed his own stories or if they were merely a stab at entertaining us and keeping the focus off misbehaving. If the latter is true, then props to him. Clever ruse. If the former. . . *shakes head* It's quite difficult to take a man seriously when he sounds like Joe Pesci and your favorite movie is Home Alone.
Dr. Lacher (pronounced 'locker') was not even a doctor. Older man, bald. Wore a lot of short-sleeve checkered shirts that always came un-tucked in the back. This man was a great lover of bonus points. You could do anything. Anything at all. Didn't even have to be academic. With the infamous and fraudulent Dr. Lacher, you could rack up enough bonus points to get you through your sophomore year in college. Unfortunately, these were all imaginary marks when your actual teacher showed up the following morning and sighed in irritation at his grade book. Many teachers, I'm sure, learned to either lock up or take their grade book home with them when Dr. Lacher was in the building.
Mr. Bahl. Already, this doesn't bode well. You're talking teenagers here. Plus, your pants are pulled up to your armpits, your Coke-bottle glasses are enormous and constantly sliding down your sweaty, nervous nose and you run funny. Just because you're an adult does not excuse you from both harassment and intense humiliation. Lucky for me, my glasses were pretty slim and stayed put and I was a darn fast runner. Mr. Bahl should have considered another profession. That name takes the right man to make it work in a high school setting. He was not the right man.
I do have a profound appreciation for people like me who are stuck between a rock and another rock and, some days, a whole truckload of rocks because we feel our expensive education is not being put to its best use. Most days, I have to put my love of learning the tangible and manifest things to the side in favor of classroom management and behavior control. I have many letters signed by naughty children who have had need of apologizing in the written form.
I do not sub because I love it. I sub because I love teaching, I love learning. I love the resilience of children and try my best to walk out of every school's doors having had some of that resilience rub off on me. The substitute's world is an interesting one.
*comics courtesy of toothpastefordinner
