I subbed at the middle school today. It was a half-day gig. Substitutes aren't salary employees, so the shorter the work day, the shorter the paycheck. Be that as it may, I was glad to give the 6am alarm the bypass.
I went into this gig with optimism. My hair and outfit were cute as all get out. Don't get it twisted and think that I am trying to turn the heads of teenage boys because that ain't it. On Oprah YEARS ago, some makeup guru/stylist told the audience and viewers that we should always strive to be "as cute as you can be" before leaving the house.
That stuck with me. If I don't look good, I don't feel good. That said, my outfit, hair, and the thought of a half-day at work tricked me into believing that today would be a good day. That was not the case.
When I checked in, I was informed that I would have to sub a music class at 2:00pm. No biggie. I'm used to being "farmed out" to other classes when the planning period rolls around. I'm not a "real" teacher. What do I have to plan? I went to the first leg of my sub journey for the day, and the teacher told me what worksheets to pass out and she told me which student would be the most troublesome. Turns out, half the class was disrespectful AF. I mean, what part of "Stop talking" did they not get? And they weren't having having any deep intelligent discussions, either, just talking for the sake of NOT doing what the sub said and cutting their eyes at me to see the reaction. Their assignment was 53 multiple choice questions based on a chapter in the text book. They could use their BOOKS AND NOTES to find the answers, but they still acted like it was a struggle. (When they're actually tested on the material, hilarity will ensue, I'm sure.) All of a sudden, 30 minutes into an hour and 40 minute class session, I had to pee like a racehorse. Can't leave the kids unattended nowadays like they did when I was coming up. Since I wasn't blessed with a paraprofessional to sit in with me, I was stuck. I didn't want to risk having to shuffle out of the classroom with my legs crossed, so I called the office to ask for some relief. I used that word and there was a whole lot of playing dumb. I finally muttered "restroom" into the phone, and the Secretary said she would call me back.
Finally, some lady--an assistant principal...fuq if I know--came in with this look on her face like I was the worst person in the world for needing to pee. Interesting, since I roll up in that joint to cover teachers for 7 hours and put up with all manner of disrespect, but it takes an act of congress to get a 3 minute bathroom break???? OOOOKAY. *SIDE-eye* They could have sent one of the custodians for all I cared. I would have grabbed one of they'd been cleaning that area of the school at the time.
Anyway, I came back and thanked the woman twice--she was acting like she didn't hear me the first time. Worksheets started creeping in slowly. The chatter had gotten so bad that I put a check ✔ in the top right-hand corner of the QUIET students' papers. I tapped the stack of papers on the desk and the 8 bracelets I was wearing made a comforting (to me, and I needed it) clacking sound. This student who had been running off at the mouth the ENTIRE time told me it was disrupting her. Her classmate told her that she should have said, "Miss ******, your bracelets are distracting. Could you stop that please?" I responded that her talking was disruptive but she didn't stop when I asked her to and gave my best Kanye shrug (perfected after I started subbing middle school).
Before heading to the other class, I had to pop 2 headache pills in the teachers' lounge.
I got to the building where the next class is held. I knocked at the door which has a glass panel to see in and out. I was peeking in because I didn't see the teacher. His desk was in the corner of the room. If something pops off, HOW will he KNOW???? Can you say, "eff'd up feng shui", boys and girls? A cluster of girls saw me peering in, and squealed "Who IS that?!". Another yelled, "She ugly!" just as a student opened the door for me. Did the teacher reprimand them? NOPE. I looked at the student, rolled my eyes, and made my way over to the teacher and introduced myself--side-eyeing him for the lack of discipline. Turns out I would sub a combined chorus and band class because a few of the students were performing for some great Revolutionary War commemoration in town and had to go practice.
Since this post is going to be about as long as the Old Testament anyway, let me give you some backstory. I'm intelligent, but I didn't apply myself in school. I was too busy dreaming of sharing the runways with Naomi Campbell, marrying George Michael, and dates with boys who didn't know I was alive. My GPA always hovered between a low B and high C. I held honor society members, honor students, student-athletes, and the artsy fartsy types in high regard. To my eyes, they carried themselves differently. They seemed so much more focused...so much better. It was that school of thought that led to me missing an incident in which a girl walked up to another and slapped her in the face.
*Edit* I don't known what happened with my fonts. This thing gets on my nerves sometimes. Goodnight.
I went into this gig with optimism. My hair and outfit were cute as all get out. Don't get it twisted and think that I am trying to turn the heads of teenage boys because that ain't it. On Oprah YEARS ago, some makeup guru/stylist told the audience and viewers that we should always strive to be "as cute as you can be" before leaving the house.
That stuck with me. If I don't look good, I don't feel good. That said, my outfit, hair, and the thought of a half-day at work tricked me into believing that today would be a good day. That was not the case.
When I checked in, I was informed that I would have to sub a music class at 2:00pm. No biggie. I'm used to being "farmed out" to other classes when the planning period rolls around. I'm not a "real" teacher. What do I have to plan? I went to the first leg of my sub journey for the day, and the teacher told me what worksheets to pass out and she told me which student would be the most troublesome. Turns out, half the class was disrespectful AF. I mean, what part of "Stop talking" did they not get? And they weren't having having any deep intelligent discussions, either, just talking for the sake of NOT doing what the sub said and cutting their eyes at me to see the reaction. Their assignment was 53 multiple choice questions based on a chapter in the text book. They could use their BOOKS AND NOTES to find the answers, but they still acted like it was a struggle. (When they're actually tested on the material, hilarity will ensue, I'm sure.) All of a sudden, 30 minutes into an hour and 40 minute class session, I had to pee like a racehorse. Can't leave the kids unattended nowadays like they did when I was coming up. Since I wasn't blessed with a paraprofessional to sit in with me, I was stuck. I didn't want to risk having to shuffle out of the classroom with my legs crossed, so I called the office to ask for some relief. I used that word and there was a whole lot of playing dumb. I finally muttered "restroom" into the phone, and the Secretary said she would call me back.
Finally, some lady--an assistant principal...fuq if I know--came in with this look on her face like I was the worst person in the world for needing to pee. Interesting, since I roll up in that joint to cover teachers for 7 hours and put up with all manner of disrespect, but it takes an act of congress to get a 3 minute bathroom break???? OOOOKAY. *SIDE-eye* They could have sent one of the custodians for all I cared. I would have grabbed one of they'd been cleaning that area of the school at the time.
Anyway, I came back and thanked the woman twice--she was acting like she didn't hear me the first time. Worksheets started creeping in slowly. The chatter had gotten so bad that I put a check ✔ in the top right-hand corner of the QUIET students' papers. I tapped the stack of papers on the desk and the 8 bracelets I was wearing made a comforting (to me, and I needed it) clacking sound. This student who had been running off at the mouth the ENTIRE time told me it was disrupting her. Her classmate told her that she should have said, "Miss ******, your bracelets are distracting. Could you stop that please?" I responded that her talking was disruptive but she didn't stop when I asked her to and gave my best Kanye shrug (perfected after I started subbing middle school).
Before heading to the other class, I had to pop 2 headache pills in the teachers' lounge.
I got to the building where the next class is held. I knocked at the door which has a glass panel to see in and out. I was peeking in because I didn't see the teacher. His desk was in the corner of the room. If something pops off, HOW will he KNOW???? Can you say, "eff'd up feng shui", boys and girls? A cluster of girls saw me peering in, and squealed "Who IS that?!". Another yelled, "She ugly!" just as a student opened the door for me. Did the teacher reprimand them? NOPE. I looked at the student, rolled my eyes, and made my way over to the teacher and introduced myself--side-eyeing him for the lack of discipline. Turns out I would sub a combined chorus and band class because a few of the students were performing for some great Revolutionary War commemoration in town and had to go practice.
Since this post is going to be about as long as the Old Testament anyway, let me give you some backstory. I'm intelligent, but I didn't apply myself in school. I was too busy dreaming of sharing the runways with Naomi Campbell, marrying George Michael, and dates with boys who didn't know I was alive. My GPA always hovered between a low B and high C. I held honor society members, honor students, student-athletes, and the artsy fartsy types in high regard. To my eyes, they carried themselves differently. They seemed so much more focused...so much better. It was that school of thought that led to me missing an incident in which a girl walked up to another and slapped her in the face.
I was still pissed about trying to GO piss earlier and was working on this blog post while glancing at the students every 2 or 3 sentences. I found out about it when I asked the victim what time the dismissal bell would ring. She looked over her shoulder and said, "That girl slapped me in the face." *EGADS* When I asked which one, she pointed to the back row and said it was the black girl. There was a Latina, a white, and 2 black girls sitting there. One of the black ones was looking at me right cheap, so I assumed it was her. She was about to take the fall when the other black girl copped to the slap. I was furiously writing it all down when the Latina (who turned out to be black, most likely mixed) came up and said, "I slapped her across the face, but I was just playing." W.......T........F........I lectured her about personal space and especially putting her hand in someone's face. The victim laughed it off eventually, but still I felt like it was bad enough I didn't see it. The teacher needed to know. These kids can't run around thinking they can do this crap just like I can't run around thinking that students with artistic inclinations will be better behaved. I also took the black-like-me (nonmixed) girls aside and lectured them on taking the fall for shit they didn't do. I mean, that's a favor with very little or no return. Did my lectures sink in? Who knows? Probably not. I left school vowing to only sub elementary school from now on. I went on subfinder and the only two jobs available were at the middle school. After some soul searching and meditation, I selected one. Sixth, seventh, and 8th grade art today. I'm the adult, not them. I won't let those whippersnappers run me off...But please Jesus, don't let any of my students from today know how to draw. Amen.
*Edit* I don't known what happened with my fonts. This thing gets on my nerves sometimes. Goodnight.
