Commentary : A Day in the Life of a Substitute Teacher : Education: The Urban League might reconsider its ‘teacher-bashing’ threat if it spent some time in the classroom.
No sooner has my assigned key touched the door than the news spreads through the hall. Out to the playground it resounds . . .
“It’s a substitute,” (in Spanish).
“It’s a substitute,” (in Vietnamese).
“Hey, we’ve got a sub!” (in English).
Then students swarm into the classroom, ready to take me on. I am primed. I scan the faces and observe the behavior; I’ve only seconds to effect my first decision.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spy him. It is imperative that I not have eye contact with him. He’s moving briskly about the rear of the classroom, already having commanded the attention of others about him.
He’s smiling with delight. “Ah, joy of joys, a substitute teacher,” I hear effusing from his mind.
“Good morning,” I announce. “I’m Mrs. Brown and I’ll be substituting for your teacher today.”
Their faces are alive with delight.
“Now, before I begin, I would like to select one person to assist me today with all classroom procedure--protocol--in that I am new to your classroom.”
The sweet little girls speckled about the room sit tall in their seats knowing that I will select one of them.
The boy in the back of the room is bouncing a large ball of wadded paper off his desk. As though noticing him for the first time, I inquire, “May I ask your name?”
Ready to be admonished, he replies, “William.”
“Thank you, William, I would like you to be my assistant today. Will you please come forward and sit near me and act as my adviser?”
“Oh, no,” the voices ring out. “Mrs. Brown, he’s one of the worst in the class. Not, William, oh, Mrs. Brown, you’ve made a terrible error.”
Now I assume my “teacher attitude.” “Please, I wish to make my own selection. I have never met William before. I am quite certain that William will be most helpful.”
He weaves his way to the front, knocking books off selected desks on his voyage, and takes his seat near me.
I will address all of my questions regarding the classroom to William for the remainder of the day. He has already assumed an air of authority and proper decorum. The rest is history. Pledge to the flag, a verse of “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee” or, in one wonderful class, six verses of “Roll On, Columbia, Roll On.”
Attendance: The folder notes the addition and subtraction of students in the class. Thirty-two students for one teacher and a classroom aide. I will pencil in the name of the new student who has arrived today. Thirty-three students.
“Where is Manuel?” I ask, noting that he has been gone a week. “Maybe he moved,” someone replies. Thirty-two students. Explanations for absences and tardies.
Now, on to a day of reading groups, math groups, social studies, language arts, science, P.E. and a music or art lesson.
Reading: I will contend with assigning the new Vietnamese student who speaks little English to a reading group for today until the regular classroom teacher makes arrangements for the English as a Second Language program.
I must remember to see if a complete list has been left noting classroom changes for reading and math. A tiny person enters: “I’m here for reading.” This is a third-grader here to read with sixth-graders. Some of the sixth-graders must leave to read with other classes.
Whereas reading skills are easily developed in some students, for others it is a daily struggle. I note the bounty of material available to the regular teacher to supplement the reading program. Which program best suits each child?
The door opens. The basic-skills teacher is ready for his group of students. This teacher supplements the classroom work with additional instruction.
Meanwhile, I listen to the students read a story. A lively discussion follows.
Mathematics: Even at the kindergarten level, I recognize the diverse ability of the students. One morning, the lesson plan for a kindergarten required a lesson in teaching place value--the concept of bundles of tens and ones.
Some of the little eyes watching me construct the bundles of 10 blocks and counting them understood the lesson. Others were confused. Start again. Try another means of explaining the idea. Don’t allow those who understand to become bored with the repetition.
This morning, the Vietnamese student who has just arrived raises her hand. “Finished,” she says of the math after 10 minutes. Her classmates are in awe.
“I was absent yesterday; I don’t understand the math!” another sixth-grader calls out. Again, I think of the teacher who must contend with the problem of keeping the students progressing.
Do reading scores and math scores allow for days not in attendance, lack of sleep, fetal-alcohol syndrome, neonatal drug problems, difficulties at home?
Recess: It is the regular teacher’s assigned week for duty. I stand on the blacktop and observe the play. Some students run for an organized game. Others eat snacks from home. I worry about the student who sits alone on a bench.
After recess, I spend 20 minutes reading a story I have brought. “You love to read, don’t you Mrs. Brown?” a student notes when I conclude.
“Yes,” I reply.
“I hate it,” another student says. “I’d rather watch TV.”
“Well,” I share with them, “I am forced to turn off the television in my own home to encourage my children to read.”
They nod their heads in understanding.
Lunch: I pass out the cards to the students who receive the federally provided lunch. In the faculty lounge, I hear teachers exchange ideas. Two teachers are involved in a discussion about a family problem with one student. How to reach each child?
There is another discussion about a student. “Well, I had no problem with her. She worked beautifully in my class,” offers one teacher. The one who addressed the question turns to correcting papers. I want to tell him that, on any given day, I cannot even reach all four of my own children.
P.E.: I frequently pull out my two large jump ropes and suggest a bit of double Dutch. I select two students to demonstrate how the ropes work and ask if anyone would like to try to jump. No offers.
So I illustrate the jumping method to their disbelief and that of my 40-year-old knees. The student who struggled with reading this morning jumps into the twirling ropes with ease. Here, she is a winner.
There’s an argument over at the tether ball pole. I discuss the rules. “How do you know so much about tether ball?” a large student asks after he challenged me to a game and I won. It is another skill I honed as a child in Detroit.
“You ain’t bad,” he notes. “For a teacher, I mean.”
I observe the student who has not smiled nor participated in the class work all day long. Already mature and articulate, she is the student who would blossom in a high school psychology or philosophy class. But how to keep her interested until then? Will she be the student who drops out in high school?
We pass the remainder of the afternoon doing the social studies and science lessons. William’s participation in a discussion of the Civil War is most impressive. Do I want to hold the snake and salamander? I decline.
Dismissal: I thank William for his excellent assistance all day long. He smiles at his classmates in an “I told you so,” mocking manner. I will think of him often in subsequent weeks when I read about bright students who lose interest in school, or become involved in drugs or gangs. He needs a team of experts and a bevy of electives to keep him motivated. When the bell rings at 3:15, I am exhausted.
After correcting the assignments, I will write a positive note for the teacher noting the high points of the day. The last thing he or she needs is a negative appraisal of the class.
And the last thing any teacher or prospective teacher needs to hear is that the Urban League may resort to “teacher bashing” to remedy a problem in student achievement, as a league official said last month.
Articles relating to schools seem better suited to the business section of newspapers these days, with words such as “accountability,” “graphing of scores” and “product outcome.”
This is not IBM--this is education. We are working with a product more fragile and affected by more variables than a computer. We are talking about children.
I encourage the Urban League to invest a substantial portion of time in the classroom before issuing their “bashing” threat. I am certain that they will feel much as I do. Humbled.
