My post yesterday got me to thinking about my experience being a substitute teacher. For one whole school year I was a substitute teacher for the Title One program in our local district. Title One directs extra money specifically to schools with large populations of poor students. I don't know the exact criteria to be classified as a Title One school but an important factor is the number of children eligible for free or reduced cost lunch. The schools we worked at were 100% free lunch.
The way it worked was that each Thursday, the other Title One subs and I would relieve teachers in the first to third-grades of the Title One Schools, so that the teacher could attend specialized training on techniques for teaching these specific populations. Or as some called it, a day out of the classroom.
Being a sub for the day is kind of cool because no one expects much from you and I tried hard not to disappoint them.
I saw all sorts of social problems in these schools that just shocked me. For instance, I filled in for a first-grade teacher at a school one time where the principal took me aside and told me that there was a student named Frankie who would try to sleep in class and that one of my jobs was to keep him awake. Send him to the nurse if all else failed, but first try and keep him awake.
This poor little guy had an older brother, maybe ten or so, and the two of them stayed up all night watching television and then tried to sleep all day at school. The school could not get their mother to make them go to bed on time. They had called the authorities on her and she promised to do better, but didn't. I was not able to keep him awake and much to the chagrin of the principal I made the nurse take him away, which he loved, because she had a cot for him to sleep on.
The best place to sub was at a school on the Yaqui Indian reservation. This was great because I had an aide who basically did everything, while I hung around. Except for complying with the state law that said you had to have a licensed teacher present in the classroom, I served no real purpose. The aide was this older Yaqui woman who scared the bejezus out of the kids. No one said or did anything in the room without her permission, me included. When I tried to teach what the teacher had left for me, the aide spent her time correcting me, while the kids laughed at me.
The thing is that these kids were really well-behaved and pleasant to be around. At recess, a couple of the boys bet me that they could outrun me (this was years ago), so I had to prove them wrong. I can say categorically that I can outrun any eight year-old on the planet. Okay, so that's a lie, but I outran these two knuckleheads.
The Yaqui are native to northern Mexico and southern Arizona, and in many respects are indistinguishable from Mexicans. They speak Spanish for the most part and look Mexican, at least to me. I asked her how many of the children were Yaqui and she stared at me a bit before saying, "All of them." She didn't add idiot to the answer, although I am sure she thought it. It wasn't a completely stupid question since the school is right on the edge of the reservation and I had seen a few Anglo kids in the halls, so it was entirely possible that some children were Mexican-American, rather than Yaqui.
After school the principal told me that I had "after school duty". Now technically you can't give a sub duty, but I was trying to be a team-player so I took up my post at the perimeter fence of the school. My job was to make sure that no kids climbed the fence and took off rather than riding the bus home. Apparently this was an ongoing problem.
My post looked like football fans rushing the field after a big win. I had kids going over the fence left and right and had no means and no inclination to stop them. I told the principal that a bunch had climbed over before I could stop them. He said the idea was to deter a few if you can, but that they always get over.
Another item. Long-time readers will recall that in May one of my coworkers was killed driving to a totally unnecessary meeting that we were forced to attend in Phoenix by our egomanical leader. I told my boss Kendall Ling that hell would freeze over before I drove to one of these stupid meetings again. Well, get out the ice scraper because they have scheduled another mandatory meeting for all salaried employees in Phoenix at the end of the month.
This morning Kendall left us voice mail commanding our presence. I am in a quandary here. Is this the final frontier job-wise? So far I have been playing don't ask/don't tell with Kendall on the subject of the meeting, but I assume that by tomorrow things will hit the fan. He told my coworkers that he is sure I will pitch a fit and it would be a shame to disappoint the guy. We'll see.
Besides, I can always go back to being a sub. Eighty smackers a day, and the only jackass I have to contend with is me.
Merle
Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky
Tag: Daily Life
Personal Finance
Humor
2 comments:
Find someone who doesn't have a ride, then you'll have the excuse that you're helping someone out.
I'm imagining you in the meeting with Kendall, smiling and nodding, making no stink at all, and then just not going to Phoenix.
But then I'm imagining Kendall wanting to see you pitch a fit. But when he eggs you on, you just say things like, "I see. So, you think it's a good idea to go to this meeting. Yes, it seems clear that you feel we should all go. Oh, well, you already know my feelings on this." Oh, that would be so exasperating. He would have to pitch his own fit!
Good luck with this mess.
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