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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Comedy · #592272
My first classroom substitute teaching job.
         Never agree to substitute teach on the Friday before Spring Break, on Halloween, or on The Last Day of School. Teachers aren’t supposed to be out on days like these, but emergencies do arise. However, if the kids like you, then sub the entire week before Christmas Break. I know it can be a hectic time, but the Gift Opportunities far exceed any headaches. I’ve gotten some really AWESOME presents from students. And all for just telling them to “Sit down.”, “Zip it up!”,or “No you can NOT take out your spelling book during the spelling test.”

         I slid from Parent Volunteer into Substitute Teacher with a little prodding from a few teachers, the school principal, a nosy little eavesdropping outspoken student, and…the office lady, Patricia Kennedy. Ms. Kennedy would occasionally drop a hint or two while I was passing through the office delivering paperwork from other teachers. With a smile and quick step, I waved her off. Thanks but no thanks. Substitute teaching wasn’t an occupation I eagerly sought. I didn’t grow up carrying childhood dreams of subbing. On this particular day, I was filing mail into the teachers’ boxes. “I really wish you would sub.” Ms. Kennedy said. Her voice a little more determined than it had been in the past. She was between phone calls to potential subs. Mrs. Jackson, just five minutes ago had darted past us on her way to the restroom. Morning sickness. She was 10 weeks pregnant. “I could really use you.” She shot me a hard look.
         It was getting increasingly difficult to brush her off. “You know the beauty of subbing?” She asked me on one of my now dreaded trips to the office. There’s beauty in subbing? And before I could open my mouth to respond, she proceeded to tell me. “You’re your own boss.” I gave her a confused look.

         “If you don’t want to work when you are called in, you just say ‘No". I could see a smile on her face, but desperation had crept into the corners of her eyes. Several days later, she caught me in the teacher’s lounge. “Look,” she said,as she pinned my back up against the microwave. “I really need you. Her face was now inches from mine. "You’re here all the time!" she pleaded, in a psychotic fervor. Her fingers were wrapped around the collar of my shirt. "Why won’t you sub?" I could feel the handle of the microwave digging into my spine. "You could make some extra cash!” The microwave dinged. Someone’s popcorn was done.
         “Okay! Okay!” I said as I wiggled from underneath her grip. Anything. Just let me go. Later, I enrolled in the Substitue 101 class to get certified.
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         On the day I received my ‘good to go sub’ letter, I rushed to the gym to show it to the PE teachers, Mr. Nash and Mr. Harris. Mr. Nash was close to retirement. He was more than grateful I had spent a large part of my volunteer hours in his gym. He buzzed the office and informed Ms Office Lady he would be sick tomorrow. Both PE teachers took full advantage of my substitute status. It didn’t matter to me because I loved PE and the students were well behaved. And, as the Office Lady pointed out, I was making a little extra cash.

         My first classroom gig was on Halloween Day. I got the call at 6:12 in the morning. Mrs. Sutton’s sister was critically ill, and my services were needed.

         Students weren’t supposed to dress up in a Halloween costume. This being The Bible Belt and all, Halloween was considered by the moral majority to be a satanic holiday. A concept not readily embraced by the members of the school board. However, some clever teachers, not wanting their students to be deprived of the tradition, developed what is now known as Character Book Dress-up Day. In other words, a student could read a particular book and then, on the same day as Halloween, dress up as one of the characters in said book.

         Mrs. Sutton’s desk was fairly neat. Her weekly lesson plans were open with the Teacher's editions close by. Impulsively, I sat down in her chair and rumaged through the contents of all of her desk drawers. (The bottle of 500 count Advil should have tipped me off) And then, I couldn’t help myself, I spun around in her chair. This may be Mrs. Sutton’s classroom, but today it was MY classroom. I was in charge.

         “Where’s Miss Sutton?” A child’s voice inquired. Kids always call adults Miss even if they are married.

         I looked up from the lesson plans. “Out.” Was my reply.

         “Who’s the sub?”
         “Me.”

         He eyed his buddy. “Whoa Dude! Allllright!” They both raced out of the room a little too quickly I thought. I could hear their voices informing everyone about Miss Sutton’s absence. Obviously happy. The fifth grade equivalent to winning the lottery.

         Any false notions I had about classroom subbing being easier than PE subbing were quickly destroyed. Unbeknownst to me, the absence of a teacher meant a different set of rules was in play. Beginning with: The Start Of Class. Apparently, you were allowed to stroll in at your leisure as many students walked in long after the late bell had rung.

         The reality of a substitute teacher coupled with the fact that most of the class chose to dress up for Character Book Dress Up Day brought to the room a chaotic noise level which was beyond my comfort zone. I asked them to quiet down but my voice could not be heard over their loud chatter. They were grouped in packs of three or four, discussing whatever fifth graders deem important. They compared their costumes. Being quiet wasn’t on their agenda. I yelled in my strongest authoritative PE tone, “Please quiet down!” A few well-behaved students responded. A few more took it upon themselves to help me in my quest for quietness. At the top of thier lungs they yelled, “She said get quiet!” Still the majority refused to listen.

         I even wrote my quiet instructions on the board. Taking care to underline the word “quiet’ three times. Plus, I added an exclamation point for good measure. Still, no response.

         The next-door teacher, Mrs. Blanks, entered the room and immediately everyone remembered were they were and what they were supposed to be doing. Books suddenly appeared on the tops of their desks and the pencil sharpener finally stopped operating. Miss Next-Door Teacher whispered a set of instructions to the class that I barely heard. Something about keeping Mrs. Sutton informed of any wrongdoings. She then turned to leave.

         “Waaaait!” I pleaded. “Couldn’t you pull up a chair and stay awhile?”

         She laughed. “You’ll do fine. Just don’t be late for library or lunch. The librarian is anal and the lunch lady may not serve you your fair share." Late for library? Not a problem. Three minutes into this classroom subbing thing and it was abundantly clear I would not miss a full 30-minute opportunity for peace and quiet. On her way out, Mrs. Blanks, pointed to the buzzer on the wall. Oh my Gosh. How could I have been so stupid? Located just to the left of the light switch was the office buzzer. When pushed, it put you in direct contact with the front office. Not the principal herself, but it was close enough. Pretending like you were going to press the button induced complete and total silence in the entire room.

         I glanced around the room, Characters from the Harry Potter series seemed the most popular, Fluffy, Hermione, Albus Dumbledore, Hagrid, and of course Harry. There was a group of cheerleaders and a football player, although I hadn't yet determined what book their characters came from.

         According to the lesson plans math was the first subject. However, when I instructed the kids what page to begin their assignment on, a boy dressed up as Fluffy rudely blurted out that the class had already completed page 125 yesterday. Oh great! Now what. "Do the next page." I commanded, already irritated. And it was only 8:45 AM. My day went from bad to worse to where the hell is the tequila? It seemed every lesson I tried to teach, Mrs Sutton had already done it the day before. Was this some kind of cruel joke? Mrs. Sutton and I would have a serious lesson plan discussion when she returned. No one wanted to stay seated, or follow my instructions. I looked at a girl who had been up for the fourth time this morning, "Hey you! Hermione! Park it!" No body seemed particularly concerned about the list of misbehaving students I had started, least of all the football player. I finally used the office button on him.

         “Office.” The Office Lady said. Why did she always say that? ‘office’. Like pressing the office button might sometimes connect you to the lunchroom or gymnasium. I told her Jeremy, the football player would be on his way, he needed an attitude check. The cheerleaders, his posse, volunteered to escort him. I guess the word ‘newbie’ was stamped on my forehead.

         By the time lunch rolled around, I had developed a nervous eye twitch and could be over heard mumbling to myself. During my meal, a tray that held a shriveled up hot dog and a few cold French fries, I re-assessed the situation. Hope of gaining control over these hooligans had long since disappeared. I would take the class to the playground as soon as we were done eating. Not because they deserved it mind you, but because I needed a small reprieve. Survival was now my number one priority.

         My small reprieve ended up being a two hour stay. Even the students were tired of the fresh air and sunshine. They begged to go back in and promised to behave themselves but I would not be persuaded. Finally, when it was time for PE, I rounded up the class and headed towards the gym. Suddenly, I had a brilliant idea. My steps quickened as I hastily formulated a plan. The kids lined the walls of the gym as they entered and I grabbed Mr. Nash by the elbow and whispered my strategy. His head nodded in approval. I darted to his office and snatched up my whistle he had given to me as a ‘thank-you’ gift for my many hours of volunteer service in the gym. I ran back and took my place standing inbetween Mr. Nash and Mr. Harris. All three of us had our arms folded. Smiles were not on our faces. Then I began my announcement. This time, when I used my authority tone, everyone listened.

         "Today," I paused, mostly for dramatics. "Our PE schedule calls for a friendly game of one-on-one dodge ball." Again, another dramatic pause. I listened and watched as they high-fived each other and voiced their approval. One-on-one Dodge ball was by far the favorite game during PE. It was not, however, listed on the schedule in the lesson plans for that day. I lied. Substitute teacher prerogative.

         "Instead, (more pausing).. Due to our atrocious behavior in class today,... We will engage in a strenuous round of good ole fashioned calisthenics." A collective moan erupted from the entire class. I smiled, for the first time that day.

         So it began, 30 minutes of muscle-straining, sweat producing, tear inducing exercise. I barked my orders like a drill sergeant. They obeyed my commands as if they came from the principal herself. I enjoyed every second of it. Finding it more therapeutic than a margarita. By the time we made it back to the classroom, they were all too happy to follow my instructions. Their behavior was now angel-perfect.

         Word quickly spread, and I had a reputation. You want to know the REAL beauty in subbing? I'll tell you the real beauty in subbing. The real beauty is nestled in the knowledge that every student in every class has PE every day. So no matter what classroom I'm subbing in, I will always have...The Gym.







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