Jackie Wells-Fauth
I spent all the years of my teaching career in the high school. I always felt capable of teaching students who were old enough to tie their own shoes and cut up their own food.
This philosophy has not held true in my days of substituting. Sometimes, it is necessary to hire a teacher to substitute who is not—shall we say—skilled at the art of elementary education.
Every time I am in the younger grades, I am reminded of my deep admiration for elementary teachers. Their jobs are complicated in ways that high school teachers don’t face. In addition, the maturity level of their charges is much more delicate, in my opinion.
The first time I substituted in a kindergarten classroom, I lined them up to go out for recess and then took a good look. Most had coats on, but few were buttoned or zipped. Gloves and hats were not properly fixed, and some had boots on while others didn’t. High schoolers frequently don’t wear winter things at all, even on the coldest days, but any who do would not thank me for helping them button or zip up their coats and hook their boots. That recess was cut short because the teacher had to run down the line and get everyone ready. By the time we were dressed for outside, it was nearly time to come in. And of course, they needed just as much time to get out of their winter wraps!
I made a note to not sub for the kindergarteners, but then I waded right in with a second grade classroom. They had an art project the day I substituted. They were to make snowflakes from cooked spaghetti, glue and glitter. I have since seen the project properly done, but that day, I had no idea and neither did the second graders. What resulted was a bunch of limp spaghetti, tortured into shapes that looked like dark symbols of antiquity, drenched in glue and glitter. I have since become friends with the teacher, but I don’t think she has ever gotten over my lack of ability to conduct a second-grade art class.
After that, I kept my resolve for the sake of all those little ones who cry when they see a strange face at the teacher’s desk. I accepted sub work in the high school and even the junior high and prayed that no one in a math class would ask me any questions.
That is, until recently, when I hit a new low in subbing for the younger elementary. I accepted the challenge of a half day in a first-grade room. How bad could it be? I couldn’t do that much harm in just half a day, right?
At first, it went pretty well. I read them a story and then we worked on a packet which had to do with shapes. I went about the process wrong, but veteran first graders who have spent almost the whole year adjusting to routine, will soon put you in your place. We were well on the way to successfully finishing out the day when snack time arrived.
Now, in high school, snack time is non-stop, all day long and they serve themselves. I’ve never had to worry about which snacks to serve and the beneficial qualities of any of them. But first graders understand the concept of snack very well and they are also keenly aware of what works and what doesn’t.
We spent quite some time debating the merits of bananas or Oreos or Goldfish or Fruity Pebbles bars (I didn’t know there was such a thing.) I stood there, with some of everything in my hands, drowning in the 15 opinions of 15 first graders as to what we should have. Pandemonium reigned as they shouted that they needed healthy and unhealthy snacks and that they needed a choice. I had begun to think “take it or leave it” was going to be the choice, when I was rescued by the young art teacher, who, trying to set up a lesson, shoved two things in my hands. I went around the room, serving snacks and feeling like teaching Shakespeare to seniors is a real snap, compared to snack in first grade.
The knowledge that I flunked snack was reinforced at the end of the day, when one youngster slipped a hand in mine and said quietly, “You were a good substitute…except for snack.”
dropsinthewell 