A lot has happened since I left my full-time teaching job at Mustang High School. But, I won’t bore you with the details of buying a business, raising a child, and burying those with lengthy illnesses. Or changing my dress size more than four times in two different directions.
Decades later, I have decided to substitute teach to see if it is fun. I want my own job, my own schedule, my own life back. I want no homework. I went to substitute training for three hours. I left thinking that I would need my own lesson plans in case none were provided; that I would never be able to navigate the computerized system set up for subs; that I never wanted to be called for anything at 6 a.m.
My anxiety heightened as the first day of school neared. Would I be able to find my classroom? Where would I go during free time? Would I find a friend? Did my hair, clothing, and shoes look right? But, I did not get a call because teachers are always on their best vitamins for the first week of fall.
However, I did a time trial along the route anyway to settle my nerves about being late. Just as I suspected, the parkway traffic stood still because of a wreck. After trying two alternative routes, I finally got through the left turn light into the high school parking lot, I was nine minutes late on teacher time.
The teachers entering the building dressed casually like my son and his friends. The students wore shorts with sweatshirts. I saw only one person like me—a sleepy grandparent dropping of a sleepy grandchild.
Since the faculty parking lot had numbered spaces for small Hondas and used trucks, I decided to lap the school a few times with the carpooling SUV parents, lumbering yellow-jacket school busses, and speedy red Lexus students. Luckily, I spotted an empty visitors’ parking lot just as the band marched directly in front of my bumper without looking both ways. I jammed the brakes, mumbled a few choice words, and it all came back to me.
Teenagers focus on themselves only. Will I find my classroom? Will a find a friend? Does my hair look right? What about my shoes? Where is the entrance to the building?
As I drove out through the school zone with matching squad car, I headed for the mall to buy new shoes, sunglasses, and hair dye.
On Tuesday I would leave fifteen minutes early, get out of the car, look both ways twice, and then bravely walk into the main entrance which was inconveniently located on the back of the building. Or not. 9/08
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4 comments:
Love it! What a fun perspective on substitute teaching.
K-
I never realize the capacity of my feelings on a subject until I read something you have written.
Every day, I drive past a high school. I look over at a world through my own distant memories, a life I once lived. But, I also feel the squint of my eyes...looking at something I don't quite understand anymore. It's almost like I have to really think hard about whether or not I did that school thing. It's like looking through textured glass.
I adore your bravery for putting life on paper...but more, your gift for saying it in a way we can all live with.
Thank you.
This is great to find you - and to be a party of your witty, pithy comment without hearing them fourth/fifth/sixth-hand!!!! I'm on RSS so will know your every post the minute you make it!!! Can't wait for more goodies!
As K drove her car, I was a passenger with her and I loved being able to experience the journey through her eyes. I can just see the tuba player, cheeks bulging, marching in front of the car, totally oblivious to the sound of car brakes. I want to read more!
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