At the beginning of October, I began a long-term sub
placement. It was at the school where I
served as an “Academic-Behavioral Interventionist” part time for a school year
and where I’ve frequently served as substitute teacher amidst my other jobs
since. This fall, with my extensive
summer job search and application process proving completely unsuccessful, I
found myself in need of a job…and Hillside found itself in need of a sub willing
to carry out the day-to-day and teaching for one of their beloved 5th
grade teachers who would be out for a back surgery. I agreed, thankful for the community I knew
was at Hillside and for God’s provision for my needs.
The fact remains…I’m not a teacher. I am a decent instructor. And a notable substitute as I come with
enough experience and a bag of tricks to make the day survivable for both me
and my class. But there are MANY reasons
I didn’t go to school for elementary education.
It turns out I like lesson planning (I love lists and am a great planner
and there is a strategy to lesson plans) but the day in and out of classroom
management for talkative pre-pubescent 10 and 11-year-olds proved beyond my key
“niche”. I often felt like an
overwhelmed island. I had no idea what I didn’t know or what help to ask for…but
I had 29 crashing waves reminding me constantly of what was being asked of me.
To say it was a learning curve would be, at least, accurate.
I found I learned other things as
well as time went on. Mostly about the
teachers whom I’ve always appreciated but haven’t been awarded sainthood. At one point a teacher friend commented
something along the lines of “no one will be a bigger supporter of teachers
than you after this!” I responded that I
was applying to be president of their fan clubs. I learned much about what it is like to be a
teacher and what is required of them in the classroom. Below is my (incomplete) list of some of
those things. And, if you are anyway
anticipating a third snow/cold day with children whom you love but are wondering,
with wide eyes and decreasing patience, how you all are going to make it out
alive…thank the teachers you know. I
promise you they don’t hear it enough...
I was in a FULLY STOCKED classroom for less than a week when
I felt the compulsion to buy things for my students and room. I can only imagine what a teacher goes
through at the beginning of a school year, pre-anticipating the real needs of
students.
Every post about drinking cold coffee is true. No matter how soon I get to school. No matter how soon I start the coffee pot and
no matter how soon I start drinking the coffee…
I enjoy an occasional adult beverage. Sometimes I even enjoy one to wind down. I VERY rarely drink copiously and never as an
escape. That being said…I find it an
absolute miracle that more teachers aren’t raging alcoholics. If they were, it would make sense to me…
Every time you read something about staying awake, unable to
sleep, because of a student, believe it.
It isn’t an over generalized sentiment.
It is impossible to spend 8 hours a day with individuals and not care
deeply about who they are as individuals. (I anxiety slept about my class and
students almost every night.)
Everyday I looked at students and said “You are NOT stupid!
We are still learning this skill!” and “you are going to do something
incredible with your life!” and “everyone judges success differently. I judge it most by people who keep working
even when it’s hard!” and “you need to give yourself more credit! Just because you don’t have it yet, doesn’t
mean you won’t. You are half way there!”
I didn’t say these things as platitudes.
I truly believed in my students.
I repeated often to the class “You need to believe in your selves half
as much as I do, and you’ll change the world!” Did they believe me? Maybe not.
But someday I hope they know they are capable and think back not back to
me, their long-term sub, but the dozens of teachers who have been saying the
same thing for YEARS!
5th graders, (or many other -graders for that
matter), are not necessarily inherently nice kids. I lost count of the times I
was called “stupid”, “ugly”, “fat”, and any number of things. I have been sworn at, kicked, punched, the
target of jokes and drawings and gossip that would have made me leave school
crying as a 10-year-old. Teachers would
like to say they are immune to these kinds of comments and jabs. (I mean, after
all, it most often came on behalf of whatever student whose behavior I most
recently corrected. We would have a conversation about the need for me to feel
something I didn’t like because they were feeling something they didn’t like. Kids
are still working on how to respond in appropriate ways. Most teachers get this.) But…teachers are
human too. They have like 30 students
they give up time and sleep and energy for.
Students they invest into academically and personally. Students who might thank them for help on a
problem, but it may take years – if they ever get there at all – to be thankful
for the investment. Teachers aren’t
immune. I’ve seen calloused teachers; I haven’t seen immune teachers. Stuff builds up. Stuff hurts.
Teachers try to prove themselves to each other. I witnessed some incredible teaching
“teams”. Pockets of teachers in the same
grade level who were all committed to working together and sharing ideas and
the best worksheets and STEM projects and “crazy red squirrel on crack” student
stories. And yet…there is this subtle
recognition that all teachers want to show each other they are doing
enough. Good enough. I spent pretty much my whole time trying to
prove myself. Sometimes I cut myself
enough slack to recognize I wasn’t and am not an elementary teacher. I was just the long-term sub. That no one was
expecting me to understand grade level standards and learning targets or how to
take the new reading curriculum that the students DESPISE and make it
usable. But part of me expected it from
me. And most of me tried really hard to
convince myself that I wasn’t being thought less of because of my failure to
measure up. And every so often I saw
that same flinch in even seasoned teachers who were capable of feeling the same
things…
Teachers spend a lot of their non-teaching time doing things
that involve their teaching time.
Conferences. Online trainings.
Reading dozens of articles about other teaching strategies, projects and ideas
that are working, ways to better care for the whole person of their students,
and studies on education. They are browsing
Pinterest for projects, fresh ideas, and encouragement. They are paying for subscriptions to sites with
more tools and helps and premade worksheets.
And yes, based on the conversations I heard and calendars I saw, they are
doing this on their summer “breaks” (the ones everyone is always so jealous of…)
Since I mentioned curriculum…I only got my feet wet in the
world of “grade level standards”. I have
only a cursory knowledge about what all goes into creating those standards at a
state level and barely more about implementing them. But based on what I saw, experienced, and
know about the classroom…to meet all of the grade level standards in all
subjects would require 10-hour school days, 6 days a week, for at least 11
months a year. A classroom without any
behavioral issues, perfectly attentive students, and another teacher wouldn’t hurt
either. I have NO IDEA how teachers get
through it all!
Group projects. If
you let them choose their partners, they goof off the entire time. If you choose their partners for them, they
fight the whole time. I’m pretty sure,
based on the chaos which ensues by assigning a group project, I know how wars
are actually started. The struggle
between “this would be a fun project/this is a good skill/they don’t do enough
hands-on things/they need to learn how to work together” and “is this worth
curling up in a corner and crying about for three days?” is REAL.
Speaking of wars…seating charts take the strategy of seasoned
Army generals, the patience of UN diplomats, the daring sense of adventure of
Indiana Jones, and the problem-solving genius of a published mathematician. “Billy can’t sit next to Danny, Brad, or
Shelly. He does sit well next to Sally
and Robby, but Robby can’t sit next to Sally. Robby also can’t sit next to Brad or Shelly
but works surprisingly well with Danny…” And then the earth-shattering sass
when they discover who their new neighbors are…
Teachers say things that just don’t make sense. It’s like (I imagine) parenting but with 30
super different children with very specific personalities and needs. At least once a week I said something like
“new rule: you can’t make art out of an apple and leave it on your desk. It needs to go home at the end of the day!”
and “I don’t know why I need to remind you of this, but we don’t lick our
friends!” and “For the love of recess! Why are your cradling him? Put him
down!”
If you have a child whose teacher is out sick, pray for
them. If they are gone for more than a
couple of days, consider meals and community gatherings of support; they might
be dying. This wasn’t a case of the
sniffles, they are really not okay! The only basis I have for this knowledge is
the sheer terror of lesson plans.
Granted, as a non-teacher lesson plans may have been more challenging
for me than a gifted teacher who can do such things with flourish and speed. But, shoot!
I was gone for the equivalent of six school days when I went to Israel
and I put an embarrassing amount of
time into lesson plans. What content was
reasonable for a sub to cover? Was I leaving enough work? Not enough? What would I have to reteach when I got back?
How did I leave notes on students that didn’t automatically make the sub form
negative opinion of students but gave them the information they needed to give
my special students the care they needed?
And the headache of having to go through it all and figure it all out
again when you come back? Yeah, teachers
don’t take sick days lightly.
Teacher’s aren’t thanked. Not really. I can say this because I’m not and wasn’t a
real teacher. I say it as someone who
was meaningfully thanked EVERY time I saw the teacher whose classroom I was
covering. I know many phenomenal
teachers and they are phenomenal because they didn’t go into teaching for the
thanks but because they truly love what they do and, more importantly those
they do it for. But it’s still not
taking place. Not in so many words. If
they teach in elementary, there is probably a collection of art from their
students or occasionally there is a hug. Small pieces of a student expressing their
love and thanks in ways they know how. There
is the satisfaction of watching a student grow in and own skills in life and
academics. There is the inner knowledge
that what they do makes a difference. But
not many people turn around and say, “thank you”. Not many professions have so many
expectations…from law makers, administration, parents, teachers, and childless
strangers…with so few actual resources…that are accomplished with joy and creativity
and ingenuity and personal sacrifice…and are done with nare a word of
acknowledgment or thanks.
I was asked routinely if I would do it again…I often admit
reluctantly I probably wouldn’t. Reluctant
because it makes it sound like a bad experience when mostly it was just a
lot. I was working a 50+ hour week, for
the same pay I would make for a sub job that included giving out worksheets and
reading homework while the kids were at PE.
I made less than minimum wage, still had to put hours in at my other
job, and was still doing homework for my last class. I wasn’t eating, not sleeping well, and constantly
worried about my kids. I learned I’m
capable of many things but that teaching 5th graders is not likely
my life’s calling. I am thankful for
those for whom it is. I am incredibly
grateful for the teachers I’ve had throughout my life who taught, encouraged,
inspired, and helped shape me into the person I’ve become. It is likely you haven’t heard it recently,
so thank you.
