"Yes! We've got a sub today!" The grin on the student's face told me
all I needed to know. I was in for a challenge and first period hadn't
even begun. After years of traveling around the country as a
motivational speaker, I had retired and turned to substitute teaching.
The advantages seemed numerous. Instead of entering a new school each
day, I could settle at a single local high school. The work schedule was
flexible; if I wanted to spend time visiting with my grandkids, I could
say "no" to teaching. And instead of speaking on the same topic day
after day, I could branch out and teach English, Chemistry or Spanish.
Returning as a teacher, however, made me realize just how much of my
high school studies I'd forgotten. Was I really smarter than a tenth
grader? Pulling algebra and geometry from the recesses of my brain was a
challenge. And in history class, what did I know about life in ancient
Greece? The kids thought I was old, but not that old!
Students, of course, switched seats as I took roll. Classes attempted
to convince me that their teacher hadn't announced the quiz I was to
proctor. And of course, I learned never to send more than one student to
the restroom at a time.
When Colby saw a large cardboard refrigerator box as he entered
Spanish class, he got a gleam in his eye. He enlisted the help of a
crony across the room to distract me and then jumped inside the
container. I spotted him, so I moved to the front of the room, stood
next to the box and gently pressed my hand on the top flaps, forcing the
boy hiding below to crouch down in a cramped position. I turned to the
class and announced, "Today we have access to a new classroom teaching
tool: the latest version of Xbox 360. The software inside is programmed
to give correct conjugations of common Spanish verbs. Each time I thump
the side of the box, it will conjugate one of the verbs listed on the
whiteboard. Of course, if the box's answer should be incorrect, then you
will input the correct form so the box remembers the next time."
Colby thought his crouched position was awkward, but conjugating
verbs in front of the entire class made him even more uncomfortable. Out
of sight, this class clown was unable to distract his classmates, and
by the time I released him from his cardboard casing, he had reviewed
all his verb forms. Who says a sub can't teach outside the box?
Next Aidan needed my attention. He kept getting out of his seat in
order to talk to his friend on the other side of the room. When I
reminded him to return to his desk, he explained, "I speak Arabic and
need to get help from my friend."
Pointing at his desk, I pronounced firmly, "Bito d uk ni'ida!"
With a look of shock in his eyes, Aidan turned to his classmates. "She speaks Arabic!"
I don't. Speak Arabic, that is. But since he didn't know the language
either, what difference did it make? Aidan never knew my words were
from an obscure Mexican indigenous dialect, but he dashed back to his
seat. Obviously I still have gifts as a motivational speaker.
Subbing may have advantages but, believe me, it's no job for sissies.
Reprinted by permission of Chicken Soup for the Soul Publishing, LLC
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