Substitute Teaching: Elementary, Mr. Broom

I substituted for an elementary teacher for the first time last week. I was originally slated to take a 4th grade class all day, but ended up having them in the morning, then a 5th grade class in the afternoon. The teachers had left detailed lesson plans, which helped immensely. I think my greatest apprehension regarding teaching grade school kids had been the prospect of being in a classroom with 30 kids, not knowing what to do to keep them occupied.

I liked my 4th grade class. There were some trouble makers, of course, but by and large it went well. One of the more memorable moments was when Ellie, a little blonde girl, asked me, "Are you married yet?" Mark kidded me about that, being hit on by a 10-year-old girl.

One of my biggest challenges so far in virtually all of my classes has been how to maintain discipline. I don't like nor do I want to yell at the kids. As I've written about before, that's one of the biggest complaints kids have about substitutes: they yell and "aren't nice." So I tried my best to be nice, believing the kids would respond to it.

Apparently, however, at least a couple of teachers thought I wasn't being strict enough. When I took the class to the computer lab, an aide from another class dressed down a couple of my boys quite sharply. As she walked back to her seat, she told me, "Their behavior is unacceptable. They're testing you and you have to respond forcefully." She then made a comment about what a difficult class they are.

Later, when I was walking them back to class, and some of them were a little rambunctious,  I got a very dirty look from a scarecrow of a woman walking the other way. Sometimes, I have felt a bit like Father O'Malley (Bing Crosby) in "The Bells of St. Mary's" when he tells the kids on his first day there that they can have the rest of the day off, only to be roundly scolded by the Mother Superior for such a flagrant breach of discipline. 

Nevertheless, I try to be respectful of the children, and I think they respond to this. There was one particularly troublesome boy in my 4th grade class whom some of the other kids told me had been a perpetual troublemaker. He was living up to his reputation. But the thing is, I could tell that he is very intelligent. So when he was disturbing the class in the computer lab, I walked up to him, leaned over and quietly told him, "Look, I know you're very intelligent, so why don't you show me what you are capable of doing on your project in the next 15 minutes." He went to work.

I guess I did ok. When I left the class that day after the regular teacher had returned to the classroom, several of the kids - including Mr. Troublemaker - put their hands up as I walked by to give me a high five. Cool. It's nice to be liked.

Substitute Teaching: "Jospheth"

Until a week ago, all of my substitute teaching assignments were at junior and senior high schools. I had avoided going to elementary schools because I questioned whether I could do that. You know, being surrounded by all those little kids. But last Friday, I took a job as a substitute for an aide in what was billed as a first grade class. I figured that would be a safe introduction to the elementary school classroom. 

When I arrived at the school, I was asked to ride a bus that would pick up students. The driver, Carol, a typical elementary school bus driver if there ever was one, informed me that we would be picking up some special needs kids, including a little boy named Riley who is diabetic (and who looked very much like the boy pictured above). 

Along the way to our first pick-up, Carol and I chatted. I told her that this was my first time subbing at an elementary school. She naturally assumed that I was a teacher. As these things typically go, however, it eventually came out that I used to be an attorney, that I had lost my job in the Great Recession, and that I was now substitute teaching. I forced myself to say these things and to be positive, not ashamed, about them. It felt good, and it was another one of those experiences when I realized how much I had identified myself as a lawyer, and how much value and self-respect I had invested in that identity.

It didn't occur to me at the time (but it later became apparent) that Carol would then take this juicy piece of gossip (about me being a lawyer) back to the school secretary, who would then tell others, etc. This became apparent later in the day when the teacher for whom I was an aide came up to me during a quiet moment in the classroom and said, "So, the secretary says you're new at this kind of thing."

When Carol picked up our first student, Riley, a third grader, I could see that he was also Down's. (Good grief, I just remembered the name we used to call children like him back in the dark ages when I was a child: "mongoloid." What an awful word!) But Riley quickly captured my heart. He asked my name and I told him, "Joseph." He smiled and said, "Jospheth, that's a nice name." He then proceeded to call me "Jospheth" for the rest of the trip, telling me all about his toys, his house, his family, his favorite subjects, etc., etc.

We picked up several other children and headed back to the school where I learned that I was going to sub for an aide in a special needs class of 1st and 2nd graders. It was an amazing few hours. I learned about Carol, a little girl who used to be scared to death of pine cones. She would not go to a park or anywhere else where there could be pine cones. But her teacher had worked with her throughout the year, and now Carol *loves* pine cones. In fact, she now collects them. The morning I was there, her teacher had brought her a couple of new ones to add to her collection.

Then there was little Landon, a cute little blonde-haired boy with a buzz cut. For some reason, he took a liking to me. By the time I took the kids out to recess after their lunch, he was coming up to me periodically and hugging me. Then, when the bell rang, he ran up to me and took my hand as we walked back to the school. I had to be careful about these things. We have been instructed not to do "frontal" hugs, but "side hugs," and any physical contact is to be avoided. Of course, you can't explain that to a little boy with special needs who was obviously starved for  affection. I had earlier heard him talk about his mom's "friend," and imagined that his father was not part of his life.

Another little boy that captured my heart was Lance. It became apparent during the course of the class that the teacher and the other aide didn't really like him; or so it seemed to me. But he exuded innocence. My heart went out to him and a couple of the other boys who got into serious major trouble after the noon recess when another boy, Charley, tattled on them. 

Charley was an exuberant boy, bigger than the others, and obviously a favorite of the teacher. That day, he was wearing a pair of warm-up pants that were about 4 sizes too big for him. As he was playing out on the playground, his pants kept falling down and you could clearly see his red underwear most of the time. I had already noticed that Charley was a bit of a tattle-tale, and I was dismayed when, as soon as recess was over, he ran up to his teacher and told her that three of the other boys had pulled down his pants. She freaked. Both Lance and Landon incurred her wrath. I wanted to say something, but felt that wasn't my place and that I would embarrass the teacher after she had already lost it.

Later in the afternoon, Lance was made to sit by himself to finish the homework he was supposed to have done. He kept sitting there, staring into space, then down at his paper, his forehead resting on his hand, saying in a plaintive voice, "I need somebody to help me." He said it over and over again. I asked the teacher whether I should help him. She replied that he could do it on his own. Meanwhile, Lance continued his mournful "I need someone to help me."

The day was finished off with all of the kids sitting at a table and playing with the teacher's snails. All except Lance, that is. Finally, he was able to come sit with the others. He said he needed some lettuce to feed his snails. All the other kids had been given a piece of lettuce. But before the teacher could give him some, Charley said that Lance's snails could eat some of his lettuce. Lance was so grateful, and Charley announced that Lance was his friend.

The final touching moment came as I was standing outside with the kids, getting ready to board the bus. Lance came up to Charley and gave him a hug and said, "Thank you for sharing your lettuce with me." How beautiful was that? 

Substitute Teaching Moments

I have had some interesting experiences since I began substitute teaching a couple of months ago. There have been times when I felt like I was going to explode and just wanted to walk out of the class and the building, never to return. There have been other times when I just considered myself blessed by being amongst children with whom I have interacted.

The worst day so far was when I subbed for a junior high biology teacher at a school in a not-so-great area. There were over 40 students in most of my classes ... It just wasn't pretty. I remember texting Mark mid-way through the day saying, "I'm in hell." It certainly felt like it. He texted back expressing compassion, then wrote, "Try to find the Buddha in each one of them." Um, wrong thing to say. I texted back, "I'm more worried about find MY Buddha." I have not returned to that school.

Interestingly, however, I substituted at a high school in that same area and the kids were respectful and well-behaved. Perhaps because it was a Resource class, i.e., an English class for kids who are learning-challenged. The regular teacher had left a quote of the day on the blackboard to be discussed, something Judy Garland said:

"Always be a first-rate version of yourself rather than a second-rate version of someone else."

We had some interesting discussions about that quote. I asked each class if they knew who Judy Garland was. Blank stares. "How many of you have seen the original Wizard of Oz movie?" I asked. Recognition. I explained that Garland acted in a number of movies, but her real fame came later, as a singer. One of the kids said, "What kind of music did she sing? R&B?" How could I explain what kind of singer Judy Garland was to a group of kids who were born a whole generation after she died? I didn't try.

Speaking of Judy Garland, I found another quote of hers that I liked:

"For it was not into my ear that you whispered, but into my heart. 

It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul."

More recently, I had an opportunity to substitute in another junior high in a poorer area of Salt Lake. In fact, when I met the teacher for whom I would be subbing before school, he told me that this school's area was the poorest in the state. Nevertheless, the classes were, for the most part, reasonably well-behaved. (Ooooo ... Did I just reveal a prejudice?)

One of my classes at this school was composed of a dozen or so ESL (English as a second language) kids. Some of them, the teacher had told me, were refugees. After I took roll, I asked them to tell me where they were from and how long they had been here. Three of them were from Nepal. Another girl was from Iraq, another from Egypt, another from Indonesia. A couple of boys were from "Africa," they apparently choosing not to say which country. Others were from Mexico. I told them that I used to be a lawyer and had lived in Utah for 17 years. (Is that possible?)

One of the things that touched me about this class was how they helped each other read and pronounce words, sometimes translating in their native language to another child. Another rewarding moment came when one of the students said I'd be a really good teacher if I decided to do that (i.e., if I become certified). I was surprised and asked why. Several of them immediately said, "Because you're so nice. Kids like that. Most substitutes are mean and they just yell at you." Now that was heartwarming.

Another poignant moment came in another class as I was teaching about the Great Depression. I asked the kids why it is important to learn about the Great Depression and about what it was like back then. Some of them commented that we study history so that we won't make the same mistakes. I then talked about the financial collapse in the fall of 2008 and the Great Recession that followed in its wake. One of the students proceeded to describe how his family used to live in Sandy, a relatively affluent suburb of Salt Lake; but his dad had lost his job and their house was foreclosed and they had to declare bankruptcy and move to the area served by the school. He was very matter-of-fact about it. Considering my own current financial situation, I was touched by his candor and equanimity. I was grateful that I was in that classroom that day.