Shine Your Light

Day #3 of subbing for Mrs. P, who as it turns out, has pneumonia. The poor woman had come in today and realized that she was terribly sick and went home. It might be sheer exhaustion after eight months with kids who never stop talking that's driven her to bed. Or, all the testing and workbooks...or kids blowing their noses and coughing and putting their fingers everywhere.

It occurred to me that it could be the classroom that's making her sick. How do I say this? It's a cluttered room; piles of papers everywhere, the walls plastered with grammar posters and weather charts, windows covered with kids' work, blocking the natural light. Congested is the word that came to mind this morning when I walked in. I crawled over some piles and cracked a few windows.

As for me, this subbing thing feels like I'm running a 5K with my workouts consisting of very short walks to the end of my driveway and back. I am really out of shape when it comes to the institutional insanity of public education. When I passed the hall mirror earlier, I had that deer in the headlights look. You all know what I'm talking about.

I need my bed and a book; the perfect marriage. So, let me finish this piece with how my day started...

As I was heading out this morning, Dad hugged me and said," Just go and shine your light, kid. That's all you have to do."

(ps. I hope Mrs. P turns off her phone, and allows herself to rest, and then rest some more.)

The School Thing

Last fall, I submitted paperwork to be a substitute teacher, but never followed through with the last piece of it. Except for my occasional writer-residencies, I wasn't sure I wanted to do the school thing anymore.

Yesterday I got a phone call to see if I would sub for a second grade classroom at a nearby elementary school. I wasn't expecting the call, at all. I didn't even know my name was on the list.

I said yes.

Oh my, it was just like old times: Ms. Jackson can I show the class this stone I found? (It looked like a pinto bean.) Mrs. Jacobs? (It's Jackson, sweetie. Ms. Jackson.) Ms. Jackson, Ryan is using two pieces of paper and we're only allowed to use one and... (What the hell, kid, live a little! Use three!) Ms. Jackson, can I go to the nurse? My elbow hurts and...(Buck up, Billy.) Can I sit by you, Ms. Jackson? Sure.

Looking back on my years as a second grade classroom teacher I can't help but think of Little House on the Prairie. My students and I would sit in circle time, dreaming up names to give our paper white bulbs that were coming into bloom; Bear claw, Mike, Three Flowers. We'd measure how many inches they'd grown, get out our crayons, make a bar graph, then hit the playground for a half hour. Not anymore.

Okay, patriotic moment: God Bless Teachers. These days, their schedules are so jammed tight, I'm pretty sure circle time has been banned. There's very little breathing room to do all the creative stuff they want to do. An average day at an elementary school is more like basic training; Come on, people, let's move it move it MOVE IT! Does that strike anyone else as odd? I mean, to be pacing your day like that? Especially when you're seven years old? And our recess was like, eight minutes.

It's nuts.

But it still felt good to be back, even for a day, hanging with people under the age of ten. And all the people at the school were very friendly and helpful. Before I left at 3:30, they asked me if I'd come back tomorrow. Seems that Mrs. P is still under the weather so...

I said yes.