Sub Day #1: "Are you a teenager?"

On Wednesday I strapped my shoes back on and took the plunge back into the world of the working: my very first substituting assignment, in a 2nd grade classroom at Emerson Charter School. Whoooooo boy.

First, let me just clarify the phrase "strapped my shoes back on." I literally mean that I put on the same clothing I used to wear to work at Borders: Target polo shirt (with a tank top underneath so as I don't bare my midriff), my only pair of jeans without holes in them, and my trusty Converse. The problem with needing to buy work clothes, see, is that you need to work to get the money to buy them.

The first thing I realize, walking onto the Emerson campus, is that I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't know where the office is, and I have only a vague idea of what I'm supposed to do when I get there. I've also shown up 40 minutes before school starts, and every one I pass in the hallway knows exactly what they're doing and exactly how they're doing it. The secretary hands me a time card and I have no idea what to do with it. Um.

The second thing I realize, walking to my classroom, is that oops! Maybe I don't really like children! It's been quite a while since I've had to deal with them directly, other than making faces at them while their parents aren't looking. Kidding. Except for those Mormon kids on the plane back from Hawaii that one time, about whom I have no regrets. Again, kidding.

When the bell rings, the children line up on the red line outside. "Are you our substitute? Where's Mrs. W--? I'm supposed to be in the front of the line. Did you know there's a small person in our class? Are you a teenager? What are we going to do today?" They are seven years old and they are hopping with energy. They aren't mean-spirited or defiant, they are just second graders and they can't stop talking, can't stop moving, can't stop asking questions. Ever.

By the end of the day, three children have sobbed at (or under) their desks. A girl got a paper cut, and a boy accidentally poked himself in the eye with his finger. One boy, who is apparently a grade or two more advanced in math and reading than his classmates, spends all day really bored and keeps trying to take a nap on the floor. When they come back from lunch, another boy won't stop singing the Freddy Kruger song: "One, two, Freddy's coming for you..." At the end of the day, it takes an extra 5 minutes to get everyone settled, and a mother is annoyed.

But! During storytime they all sit in enraptured silence as I read the Chinese Little Red Riding Hood story, Lon Po Po. It's something I'm good at, and it's pretty cool. And the teacher next door is really excited to hear that I've just joined the fraternity of educators and, impressed by my "pedigree," adds my number to his sub list.

Also, I found this hiding in the back of the classroom:


I walk out of the office to my car and I'm utterly exhausted, but, by golly, I did it. What's next?