Daria Doering

The other day I had an assignment to go and sub at one of the Court Schools for the afternoon.  I set off, and got there about five minutes before the job was to start.  I had brought some lunch with me, and just as I unscrewed the jar of peanut butter and prepared to put some on a rice cake, I noticed a woman who must be the teacher striding toward me.  She glared at me, and I rolled down the window.  “You’re late, and now I’m late to my meeting!” she said.

I told her, “I thought this job started at 12:15.”

“It starts at 12:00, and you’re supposed to be here early anyway in order to orient yourself,” she snapped.

“I’m sorry, I’ll go right in,” I said, as I put down the jar and the knife, feeling bummed about having to start this job having eaten no lunch.  The teacher muttered again about being late to her meeting, I hurriedly hid my purse in the back of my car, and rushed into the classroom.

I was faced by about 15 unfamiliar faces, the typical assortment of Hispanic gangbanger types, who had started their journaling assignment.  They stared at me, sized me up, and called out a few questions and comments … “You our sub?”  “How long you gonna be here?”  “You gonna show a movie?” and so on.  I spoke with the aide, introduced myself to the class, and told them to carry on.   They were actually quite well behaved for a class of kids at the Court Schools, and were doing their writing, and later their other assignments.  So aside from confronting some disruptive trouble-makers in the beginning, and changing their seats, there wasn’t a whole lot for me to do.  Just sit there, stare at them assertively, keep them on task.

So I had time to think.  I was upset by my interaction with the teacher.  She had come in to use the bathroom before leaving, and I had at the beginning of this episode made the decision to accept the blame for this mishap, and had told her “sorry” again.

I could see why she was ticked off at being made late for something.  However the reality was that I was mightily ticked off myself.  A lot of things went through my mind, such as:  “You’re lucky I’m here at all … I’ve been seriously considering quitting subbing for the Court Schools” … “You’ve got a cushy job that you get paid a huge amount for and you do practically nothing … subs have a tough time and get paid next to nothing … the whole thing is unfair and outrageous, and you should damn well be acting thankful to me rather than being snotty” …

But there was no real solution for my feelings of having been misused.  Maybe the scheduler had told me 12:00, though I knew it said 12:15 on the list of locations and hours.  I told myself to just let this go … let it go … let it go.  I had liked this teacher the last time I’d taught next door and talked with her … science teachers tend to me “nuts and bolts” types without very good people skills … there was absolutely nothing to be gained by my being angry.  I saw a classroom sign that said, “School starts promptly at 12:00!”  I chatted with the aide, who said the last sub said the same thing, that he thought school started at 12:15.  I made a note to call the scheduler and tell her the hours were listed wrong.  Let it go … let it go … let it go.  (In retrospect I should have been telling myself: send her love, send her love, send her love …)

We actually had a nice day.  The kids were more or less good and did their work.  At one point a man came in, talked with the aide, and left.  One girl, Lana, came in very late.  Then at lunch time the aide said to me, “That guy was Lana’s PO (probation officer).  He commented on how well-behaved the class was.  He said it was much better than the rest of the Court Schools he visits.  I told him that there is even a sub here!”  That felt good!

Also, somehow, we got on the subject of subs, and she commented on how many of them do absolutely nothing – just read or play on the computer.  Well, I told her, I felt I was doing very little myself.  She said, “Oh no, you’ve been very helpful.”  Well, I thought, I had done something.  I had gotten in there and made my presence known, as you need to do in some form.  If badly behaving kids are dominating the class, you have to step right into the locus of the problems and break it up, which generally means having a showdown with one or more kids.  And I had done that.   But the aide’s compliment felt like the second feel-good to come out of this day that had started out so badly.

We watched a movie, Mall Cop, which was actually enjoyable and inspiring (good thing #3).  And the theme was somewhat like my life.  Someone in a humiliating “loser” type occupation, trying to make something good out of it.  Also perhaps like the personable aide.  It turned out she was in school getting her masters in education.

I wrote a note to the teacher at the end of the day, telling her things had gone well, thanking her for leaving an awesome movie, and conveying my hope that her meeting had gone well.  Sending her some love.