Veteran teachers have long advised newly minted teachers and aides, never crack a smile before Thanksgiving or the kids will walk all over you. Good long term strategy: set a stern tone now to avoid being taken advantage of. But we substitute teachers are short-term thinkers. No reason to invest for tomorrow. Our goal is to get through the day with as little fuss as possible, even if things run off the rails. Think more "Cat in the Hat" than Mary Poppins. And so, you may have noticed that your teacher will return to class thinking you learned something in their absence, maybe covered a chapter or a new equation? Sorry! We subs rarely follow the teaching curriculum because that would involve work. On our part. Learning the material. To teach it to you. Not happening. Our name says it all: Sub = below, less than. Besides, the school WiFi is invariably good so no problem keeping ourselves entertained.
Also, we know you make up rules. "Dr. so-and-so always lets us eat in class," you say. "She also lets us take bathroom breaks in groups of up to six and no more." Yeah, right. But absent specific school rules that are written down someplace, your imagination is the limit. No, we're not fools. We just don't care. Well, that's not entirely true. We do care what you think of us, being human. Back when we were in classrooms, I had a good idea what you all were up to and, more importantly, what you thought of me. And what you thought of my prized handlebar moustache in particular. Maybe I'd catch a snippet of a whispered conversation. Or, after class, uncrumple your notes, usually found in the trash bin underneath the odd apple core or boba cup. Yes, yes, we substitute teachers do that, we're so desperate for validation, any validation, even if we're so often disappointed. Sigh.
But now, as a Zoom sub, I have resigned myself to remaining clueless. We do know that when your eyes drift downward you are not taking notes or reviewing the textbook. And when the whole class erupts in laughter in unison and for no apparent reason, we know what's going on. Pointless to inquire because the joke's on us and no one will share. Seasoned teachers have thick skins; we don't. So, the French have a saying: revenge is a dish best served cold. When we return to the classroom I'm looking forward to dishing out pop quizzes, patrolling the aisles to see who's on Netflix, texting, shopping, playing Minecraft. And then leaving totally unfair and unfounded notes for your teacher.
Substitute Sven, signing off
Also, we know you make up rules. "Dr. so-and-so always lets us eat in class," you say. "She also lets us take bathroom breaks in groups of up to six and no more." Yeah, right. But absent specific school rules that are written down someplace, your imagination is the limit. No, we're not fools. We just don't care. Well, that's not entirely true. We do care what you think of us, being human. Back when we were in classrooms, I had a good idea what you all were up to and, more importantly, what you thought of me. And what you thought of my prized handlebar moustache in particular. Maybe I'd catch a snippet of a whispered conversation. Or, after class, uncrumple your notes, usually found in the trash bin underneath the odd apple core or boba cup. Yes, yes, we substitute teachers do that, we're so desperate for validation, any validation, even if we're so often disappointed. Sigh.
But now, as a Zoom sub, I have resigned myself to remaining clueless. We do know that when your eyes drift downward you are not taking notes or reviewing the textbook. And when the whole class erupts in laughter in unison and for no apparent reason, we know what's going on. Pointless to inquire because the joke's on us and no one will share. Seasoned teachers have thick skins; we don't. So, the French have a saying: revenge is a dish best served cold. When we return to the classroom I'm looking forward to dishing out pop quizzes, patrolling the aisles to see who's on Netflix, texting, shopping, playing Minecraft. And then leaving totally unfair and unfounded notes for your teacher.
Substitute Sven, signing off