Friday, August 11, 2017
Back to School!
When I was teaching in the classroom full time, seeing back to school supplies in the stores would make me gulp.
The sales foreshadowed the end of summer; a to-do list in which I had barely made a dent, and the beginning of ten months of 24/7 non-stop work, worry and stress.
But there was a bright spot: I was able to indulge my love of buying new school supplies.
There's something about the rows and rows of gleaming new pencils, full boxes of crayons and markers with none missing, none broken or dried up, and all the caps intact.
Bright, crisp folders unmarked and untorn, all lined up and ready to go.
Glue sticks with caps and actual glue in them.
I knew there would be kids coming into my class who, for whatever reason, wouldn't have all of the supplies they needed. I took great pleasure in being able to give them what they needed to participate in class on day one.
I didn't consider it my business and didn't care whether they lacked supplies because their parents couldn't afford them, or didn't have time to buy them, or just didn't care enough to make sure the kids were ready.
I loved buying them. I was fortunate enough to be able to do so. So I loaded the cart with brand new markers, pencils, colored pencils, paper, folders, glue sticks. It always made me feel well prepared and super organized to have all of this stuff on hand at the beginning of the year. I had a bunch of stuff, so this would be a great year! I would be a super teacher! Clean slate for everyone!
Now that I'm a substitute, I gaze with longing at the back to school sales.
I have supplies I bring with me as a sub, but they last for years. So try as I might, I can't find any excuse to binge. I miss it, and feel a little sad that I can't particpate in this yearly ritual.
The beginning of the school year is no longer a huge overwhelming work marathon for me--in fact it's barely a blip on the screen compared to when I had my own classroom and had to begin putting the room together and planning weeks ahead of time.
So, I guess no back-to-school shopping is not a bad trade-off.
But I still miss it.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Welcome to the Real World
I've been a teacher for for a total of 35 years. At the end of my career, I found myself back where I started: substitute teaching.
I had the idea that subbing was going to be easier for me now, with all of that experience under my belt. Over the years, I've perfected the Eyes in The Back of My Head, the Backwards Hall Walking, and the Glare of Extreme Disapproval. I can tell in an instant if a small person is attempting to lie to me. I liked to think that I could inspire wonder and curiosity and motivate learners to challenge themselves.
So it was a rude shock to learn that even though all of that stuff is pretty great, in the world of substitute teaching, it means ZIPPO.
Suddenly, I was a total beginner at everything. I didn't know my way around the buildings. Didn't even know how to find the building or where to park. Most people I came across did not know me. I didn't know a single kid's name. Couldn't find a band-aid or a paper clip. The list of things I didn't know was endless.
Not only that, but the kids themselves did not know me and did not particularly care that I considered myself very knowledgeable in the classroom! I found I could no longer command attention merely by standing silently at the front of the room and waiting for quiet. I could glare as much as I wanted at an unwanted behavior, and the student in question would take no notice whatsoever of my facial expression.
It was a pretty uncomfortable feeling for me at first. So I did what teachers do: obsess about it every waking minute and even some of the non-waking minutes to try to figure it out.
I realized that I had not been this far out of my comfort zone in my work life for a very long time. If I was going to survive as a "sub" I was going to have to leave my know-it-all ego at the door and learn to be comfortable with being a kind of clueless doofus for awhile, learning from kids (teachers) half or just over a third of my age about new teaching strategies and technological innovations.
The effect was immediate and startling. I began to feel inexplicably more alive, alert, and even younger in a way. I made mistakes and screwed up (just like a young person! I told myself), but I tried to learn from every single one of them. There were chances to see awesome teachers at work (a chance I seldom had when I was in the classroom) and analyze what made them so great. I had days that would make you cringe just hearing about them, but I also had moments that thrilled me and filled me with joy. I learned not to feel foolish when I had no clue what to do, or when things went haywire for no apparent reason. And, most important, I learned that if I want these kids to care about what I think, I have about 30 seconds to let them know I care about them!
These days, three years and many crazy and wonderful incidents later, I can truly say that I love what I do. There are still times when I don't have a clue, but I now know that nobody pays attention to that--because none of us have all of the answers.
Well, except maybe the administrators.
I had the idea that subbing was going to be easier for me now, with all of that experience under my belt. Over the years, I've perfected the Eyes in The Back of My Head, the Backwards Hall Walking, and the Glare of Extreme Disapproval. I can tell in an instant if a small person is attempting to lie to me. I liked to think that I could inspire wonder and curiosity and motivate learners to challenge themselves. So it was a rude shock to learn that even though all of that stuff is pretty great, in the world of substitute teaching, it means ZIPPO.
Suddenly, I was a total beginner at everything. I didn't know my way around the buildings. Didn't even know how to find the building or where to park. Most people I came across did not know me. I didn't know a single kid's name. Couldn't find a band-aid or a paper clip. The list of things I didn't know was endless.
Not only that, but the kids themselves did not know me and did not particularly care that I considered myself very knowledgeable in the classroom! I found I could no longer command attention merely by standing silently at the front of the room and waiting for quiet. I could glare as much as I wanted at an unwanted behavior, and the student in question would take no notice whatsoever of my facial expression.
It was a pretty uncomfortable feeling for me at first. So I did what teachers do: obsess about it every waking minute and even some of the non-waking minutes to try to figure it out.
I realized that I had not been this far out of my comfort zone in my work life for a very long time. If I was going to survive as a "sub" I was going to have to leave my know-it-all ego at the door and learn to be comfortable with being a kind of clueless doofus for awhile, learning from kids (teachers) half or just over a third of my age about new teaching strategies and technological innovations.
The effect was immediate and startling. I began to feel inexplicably more alive, alert, and even younger in a way. I made mistakes and screwed up (just like a young person! I told myself), but I tried to learn from every single one of them. There were chances to see awesome teachers at work (a chance I seldom had when I was in the classroom) and analyze what made them so great. I had days that would make you cringe just hearing about them, but I also had moments that thrilled me and filled me with joy. I learned not to feel foolish when I had no clue what to do, or when things went haywire for no apparent reason. And, most important, I learned that if I want these kids to care about what I think, I have about 30 seconds to let them know I care about them!
These days, three years and many crazy and wonderful incidents later, I can truly say that I love what I do. There are still times when I don't have a clue, but I now know that nobody pays attention to that--because none of us have all of the answers.
Well, except maybe the administrators.
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