2001-04-28 - 11:10 a.m.

Also read (if you want) the New York one that I just put in a little while ago.

---

The phone rings at about 9:30.

�How close do you live to us?�

�Right up on Lawrence.�

�Can you come in right away?�

I have just resigned myself to another day off. I�ve been up since 5:30, fiddling away on the computer, and actually hoping that the substitute center will not call me and send me to my first subbing job. They could call as late as 9:45, but by nine they usually have all they need, so I have decided to give one of the local schools a try. I call at nine, just as they are reciting the Pledge of Allegiance � I can hear it in the background � and they tell me they are all set for today but will keep my number in case they need me in the future.

And now they have called back, and I must rush in. I throw on my shirt � the one I set out so nicely last night has an ink stain on the pocket so I must switch it. I throw on a tie � they�re all preknotted because I can never figure out how to tie the damn things. I go running around the house frantically searching for my wallet and keys, only to find them on the desk where I have just been sitting. I throw some hummus and stale pita bread in my briefcase and Nate, who has just woken up, straightens my tie and buttons that last button at the top which I have forgotten.

I drive off for the school, which I just noticed on a drive yesterday, which gave me the idea of calling them up since they�re so close, but I can�t remember exactly where I saw it yesterday and they need me there now.

But eventually I do find it, park and front and walk quickly to the office, where a nice lady signs me in and takes me to the class. She tells me I�ll be going to a first grade class in the morning and an English as a Second Language (ESL) class in the afternoon. I tell her I�m somewhat new to this and she asks me how many days I�ve subbed before. Just a couple, I tell her, which is a lie of course, it�s my first day ever. She has tells me that this is a good school to get started in, and that the ESL class is so well-behaved, though the first class isn�t quite as good.

We get to the end of the hall and to the classroom where the students are involved in some major chaos. The substitute coordinator, the woman who called me, is sitting there in one corner helping a few students, while the rest of them seem to be doing whatever. For a few minutes we are both there, and I putter over to the teacher�s desk to put down my briefcase and jacket, and I walk around and say hello to the children. Then she leaves me alone with them.

It�s been a month since I first got my little Substitute Teacher badge and I�ve had plenty of time to imagine myself with my first class since then. Publicly I�ve told people that it�ll be hell, I�ll probably be scared silly and never want to go back. But I daydream something else. I imagine I�ll have a little trouble at first, but that soon they�ll be amazed to see that I�m not like the other teachers, that I understand them and they like me and they want me to teach them. And I�ll teach them all the lessons they never get in school, like how to understand one another, and how to appreciate what they have. I will take them all outside and sit them under a big oak tree, and make them think about the tree and how beautiful it is. And I will hand them each a strawberry, make them enjoy the strawberry, really notice its tastes, and through these little lessons help them notice and appreciate the world that they are usually too busy to notice. And they will teach me, in their own way, the meaning of life, and I will teach it back to them, and we will cry and smile like Robin Williams under the big oak tree.

But first there is the small matter of getting the kids to stop shouting and standing in their chairs and fighting. The teacher has left me an assignment list, and for the first hour it goes pretty well � the part where I take the kids to gym, for example, I pull off without a hitch, and I can wander around the room and try to get my act together. And soon I head back to the gym to take the students back and I start running through the list the teacher has left me:

10:40-10:50 � Bathroom, drinks (students sit in hall, ask math questions to group while waiting for everyone to finish in bathroom).

The kids aren�t particularly interested in answering math questions. They get their drinks, sit down in some chairs outside their room and generally don�t listen to me.

10:50-11:00 � Calendar and sentence routine on rug � students know what to do.

Thankfully, the students do know what to do. I tell them nicely to come sit on the rug. Five minutes later, they are all there, though two are seated under a nearby easel to more easily whisper and giggle, and they are missing the important lesson one girl recites from the board � �Today is Thursday. It is chilly and sunny. Number of school days: 148.�

11:00-11:15 � Begin work on Tug of War play (see list of parts and students)

This lesson plan, the teacher will tell me later when she has relieved me of my duties, was intended for another substitute, an actor who loves the chance to direct his students in acting out a play. It turns out that it isn�t well suited to my style of teaching, which is no style at all.

I tell them to open their books to the Tug of War play. One of the kids starts sliding his desk forward. Soon they are all sliding their desks forward and backward and I can�t figure out if this is something they do every time of if they are putting me on. A kid in the back summons me and tells me wistfully, �They�re not supposed to be doing this,� and he expects an answer from me. I turn back to find that one girl has slid into the spot where another wants to go and there is a battle between the two desks. The kids are ready to fight, but I settle them down with a sharp word.

I tell them to start reading. The narrators wander up to the front of the room, but rather than read, they start drawing intently on the easel. One girl writes out �Scene 1,� then another girl erases it and starts to write it herself. They finally say their line, and then it�s the elephant�s line, and two kids who play elephants wander up, one hanging his arm in front of his head to signify a trunk. And then there�s the hippos, and the little squirrelly animal that outwits them both in the story, and the bushes, and the rainforest. The text doesn�t tell me what the bushes and the rainforest are supposed to do but one of the bushes plants himself between the elephants and the hippos and starts to sway his arms.

Some message comes over the intercom saying that there�s a car outside that must be moved or else it will be ticketed by the police, but I don�t catch what kind of car they say. And two kids, a narrator and an elephant, are hanging out by the intercom telling me that I should press the button to hear it again, and for a moment I think maybe they�re right, because it would be stupid to get a $50 ticket when I�m only making $75 for the whole day, but then I look out the window and see my car right out there, and I�m fairly sure I�m parked in a legal spot. But then another voice comes over the intercom:

�Room 114?�

�Yes?� I am not sure if they can hear me, but I speak anyway.

�Are you buzzing us?�

�I�m sorry. It mush have been one of the kids.�

�Okay.�

And I scold the children and send them back to their seats.

We have about 50 minutes to �practice� the play, including making props and signs for each character, but with me at the helm, it takes all that time to go through the entire, 25-line play.

Then we have math � a practice test, except that it�s not very good practice because I can hardly keep the kids from shouting out the answers, and there�s one boy standing over to the side holding his booklet and not answering the questions.

�What? What�s your problem.�

�I don�t have a pencil. Anyway, I can�t do math.�

�Yes, you can. Who has a pencil that Daniel can borrow?�

And one of the kids comes up with a pencil to give to him, and I give it to Daniel and he just stands there saying he can�t do math.

And then the other kid, the one who offered up the pencil, comes back up to me and asks if I have an extra pencil, because that�s the only one he had. And I take the pencil back from Daniel and give it back to the boy, and I say, okay, who has an extra pencil that Daniel can borrow? And I finally get one to him but he goes back to his seat and puts his head on his desk and his jacket over his head.

But we get through a few questions anyway, about a quarter of the assignment, and then it�s time for lunch and for their real teacher come back. I stuff down some mashed potatoes and a limp grilled-cheese sandwich in the teacher�s lounge, washing it down with one of those tiny milk containers.

---

My afternoon class is much more well-behaved. They are a group of first-graders whose first language is Spanish. The only problem is the teacher has given me next to nothing to do. But the teacher from next door comes over and says our class should join hers in the library, so we all go marching up there in two orderly rows, and each of my students is paired with one of her students. They sit down and get to work on Mother�s Day cards.

But a minute later the computer teacher comes in and she is not pleased. There�s too many people in here, she says. It�s not fair to the lab assistant and it�s not fair to your students, who are not going to be able to learn what they need to know with all these extra kids hanging off them and sharing their chairs. So the other class, who was actually scheduled to be in here today, end up leaving, and we stay to work on our Mother�s Day cards. I go around to check on their progress, but they�re all writing in Spanish so I can�t tell if their spelling is right or wrong, so I just go around saying, �Good�.�

Then we march back down to the classroom to work out some math problem, which goes so well compared to my first class, so well that when they�re done with a few minutes left and they say, �We want to play Simon Says,� I can hardly resist. I have imagined myself as a nice sub, and the nice subs let you play games when you�ve been well-behaved all day. So I start running off a few rounds of Simon Says, and they seem to be enjoying themselves. I even let a few kids be Simon, then I become Simon again, and I tell them that Simon Says put your books away, and they do, and Simon says get ready to go home, and they all go bolting toward the door in their zeal for the game, and it causes a big pile-up. Several kids fall down on top of each other and start crying, and there is the teacher from next door seeing it all, standing in the hall with her orderly class all ready to go, and she gets angry and their disorderliness and tells these student that she will have a word with their teacher and for me to have a nice day.

And I am just standing there with nothing to say, feeling responsible for all these kids falling over and maybe even some kids getting bruises, but at least they are not crying any more, so I let them go to their lockers and get their bags and put up their chairs and go home and play. I will be glad myself to go home and play. And I tell myself that it will get better from here.

previous - next