The morning started out like any other – getting Baby Girl ready for school. But this morning, I was making a lunch for myself as well. This would be my first day in over 12 years to be a substitute teacher. Before I met Tony I had subbed in the Aubrey school district and was fairly traumatized by the experience. But I think to myself that THIS TIME it will be different. I have a kid of my own, I know how they think, I am more patient now. This time I will like it.
We arrive at the elementary school only for me to be told I am not on the schedule. Almost elated, I say that I can go home if I’m not needed. They finally figure out that somehow I have been assigned to the High School. No, I say, I specifically signed up for 5th grade math. I’m not going to the High School. No worries they say! We actually do need a 5th grade math teacher so we’ll just fill you right in here. What happens to the job at the High School then I ask? The receptionist says Ah! We get a little selfish about subs – you’re here so they’ll just have to cover that class. She says it with a little grin and a shrug, not at all concerned. Truthfully I am not that concerned either, there’s no way I’m going to the High School so I take my ID badge as they explain it is a bi-lingual class. But not to worry! The kids will help you. Most of them speak english anyway. MOST of them? Gulp. Turns out spanish speaking students were the least of my problems. There’s another lady behind me waiting to be helped and through this whole process the look on her face tells me that I am clearly insane. She looks terrified FOR me. I wonder what my face looks like.
I get down the hall just in time for the first bell to ring, I haven’t even read the instructions! And the key to the door is very tricky. I am not panicking, I am not panicking, I say to myself. I can do this! Hear me roar! As the kids come in and drop their binders everywhere I try to quickly scan the instructions left for me, there are three worksheets to do, two of which we are to do together on some sort of new fangled computer whiteboard screen which I have no idea how to use. At least I can do the math I discover with some relief. What would the sub do who had no idea? I figure the kids will know how to do the whiteboard, and they do. Only every single one of them is jumping over themselves ready to show me.
One girl comes in and with her arms outstretched tries to give me a hug. This theme continues throughout the day. The second time it happens I say, No thank you, I don’t need a hug. The third time I say Wow you really like hugs don’t you? And the fourth time I just cave and freeze until it’s over. She’s a flighty sort of girl, very tall and kind of not there. There’s plenty of boys that are obviously going to give me some trouble and one girl that is falling over herself to be my helper. She asks me to put a bow in her hair. I see that there is the largest knot in the back of her head. She says it just stays there all the time. I wonder to myself about her home life. I wonder about that knot the entire rest of the day.
The noise in the room is cacophonous. I raise my voice and tell them all to take their seats. I am half expecting one of the boys to raise his chair and say “Where should I take it?” They have specials first thing, which will give me a chance to figure out what to do for the day. I walk them down to the gym and gratefully leave them there. I have an hour of peace to kill. I sit down and carefully read through everything. Apparently these classes act as “pods” and there are three classes in a pod. They switch from one subject to another through the day. So I will have three different sets of kids – the first set was my “homeroom” kids – and I will have to teach math for an hour and a half per set. I look at the math worksheets more carefully. The first two we are to do together on the whiteboard computer thing. Now wouldn’t it be nice if they all sat quietly in their seats and raised their hands respectfully and answered the math problems whilst working diligently? Baby Girl and I read the Little House on the Prairie books and there is a lot these kids could learn from the way kids behaved back then.
When I get them back and we begin, that picture of saintly behavior quickly fades to black as I get a bunch of raucous kids kicking chairs, tapping feet, falling out of chairs, doing artwork, passing notes, getting up, falling down, softly singing annoying songs and doing everything short of actual spitballs. There is one girl that you can immediately tell is drama. I don’t know how it starts but all of a sudden she wails “MY PARENTS ARE LEAVING ME” and is bawling at her desk while another student scoffs and says something unintelligible to which the girl turns around and screams “YOU DON’T KNOW, YOU DON’T KNOW ABOUT MY HOME LIFE.” Just at that moment the vice principal opens the door. Wow, she says, looks like I came at just the right moment. I have no doubt that the girl is dramatizing and looking for attention, but she is in tears, so the assistant principal takes her and her work down to her office for awhile. I am not sad to see her go. The other kids take no notice and simply go back to their level of noise and activity they were previously at.
It takes FOREVER to do these problems. I am not sure what the purpose of doing them together is, as some of the kids are bright and quick and bored while others are struggling. It seems it would be easier to move around the room offering help where needed? But again, that would assume a level of quiet and diligence that is sadly lacking. To get their attention I try turning the lights off and just having the computer screen to see by (which is light enough) and I tell them that if they can be quiet I will leave the lights off. It fails miserably. Some of the kids, of course, are pleased with the lights off and try to make the others shut up. To no avail. It is a lost cause. These kids could do with a little more “sit downs” and “shut ups” in their lives. Then again, maybe they are all angels for their regular teacher but I doubt it.
By the time we get to the third worksheet which they are supposed to do with a partner and on their own I am sweating and ready to quit. My brain has had enough with the noise. I am sharp tongued and thisshort of lashing out. One boy takes himself off to a corner to pout when he gets a question incorrect on the board and I have to call someone else up to do it. Another boy sits on the floor in front of the computer screen the entire lesson. That boy plays catch with his water bottle and I finally snatch it away in exasperation. Every single one of them asks me if they can go to the bathroom. The boy who had been pouting asks if he can go wash his hands, as they are all sticky. How?!??!? I don’t ask, just sigh and say yes. That same boy is found to be climbing the walls in the boys bathroom about 15 mins later. His worksheet has somehow found it’s way to the learning lab. I have to call down to the office for someone to go find him, as he has disappeared from my classroom.
It would be funny…. might be funny…. in hindsight…
By the time this section of math is over and we change classes, I am wondering if it can get any more difficult. This group has not impressed me, but I have impressed me – I managed to keep them all alive and the lost boy was found so I feel it’s a win? I pop open a Diet Coke and take a huge swig wishing it was just a tad bit stronger…..
Stay tuned for part 2.
