Tuesday week-a-go I accepted another substituting assignment in yet another school. This would be my 8th assignment and 8 different schools. Each school has their own way of educating and disciplining students as long as it falls within the county and state guidelines. I found the school which was the farthest I’ve traveled so far to an assignment, got signed in, found my classroom which was the 2nd grade again just like last week. But it wasn’t like last week, because the kids acted like they were animals!
Not literally of course, but it did remind me of being in a zoo. One student jumped out of his chair on to the floor. I asked him, “Why did you do that?” I got no reply. I had problems with him as he was disturbing other students. I threatened to make him go talk with the principle in which his attitude changed for a bit. When the class got to the math part he did the half of it really fast but then the other half he didn’t try to complete it. The assignment was placing ones, tens, and hundreds in the right position on their diagram which he and the rest of the class completed. The second part was writing the words out such as nine hundred, thirty five, etc. He didn’t complete it, didn’t want me to help him and was disrupting other students from completing their work. Then I remembered something. A threat is no good unless you plan to follow though. I told another student to go to the front office and get the assistant principle who I had met earlier that morning. The student pointed to a button on the wall and told me I could just push it. I did and the VP was summoned. After that, I had no more problems with him for the rest of the day.
Another 2nd grade teacher came to the classroom and said that I was to take her class as well as mine to recess. She got a little impatient with me trying to explain where the kids go for recess as if the kids didn’t know themselves.
“I’ll take them outside,” she relented finally. “You meet me in the cafeteria at 12:05, and then you can bring them back from lunch.”
“Okay.”
When I met them, she was talking to a girl from my class.
“You have to sit at the quiet table!” the teacher directed.
“Why?”
“You were talking in line coming back from recess.”
“No I wasn’t!”
“There is a camera right there,” she pointed. “You want to go to the front office and check the video? “
No response from the student.
“I thought so. You sit at the quiet table.”
The teacher turned to me and said, “I would start to line them up at 12:31 and bring them back to class.”
With that being said, she turned and left, and I looked down at the 7-year-old standing outside the cafeteria. “What is the quiet table?”
‘It’s a table you have to sit at by yourself, and not talk with your friends!”
“Oh,” I said. “Well you go get your lunch, and sit with your friends. But no yelling or talking too loud, okay?”
Her tears and angry turned to a grateful smile, and then a worried look. “What about Ms. –“
“You don’t worry about that, if she says something to you, then you tell her I said it was okay. I will deal with it.”
So I sit down to eat my sandwich, the young man I had problems with earlier sat beside me at lunch. “How was recess? Did you have fun?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“What did y’all do?
“Some of us played football.”
“Oh, I bet that was fun.”
The girl at the next table who was the other teacher’s student, looked at me and said, “You’re nice.”
I smiled at her, “No I’m not. I’m mean.”
“I don’t think so,” she said.
Toward the end of the lunch period, Ms. What’s Her Name came back in the cafeteria. I motioned to the little girl that was supposed to be sitting at the quiet table to keep low. After they had all discarded their trays, they all lined up on the outside wall.
“Stand on that square!” shouted Ms. What’s her name to the both classes. “No talking, eyes forward.”
I looked down at my feet; the flooring was in fact squares. The kids positioned themselves directly on them. One kid who had his head turned was tapped on the shoulder by the woman drill sergeant, “I said eyes forward!”
A few kids were leaning against the wall. “You better get off that wall unless you want to come up here on the weekends and paint that wall!” She said this as she marched up and down the row of children.
I started to say, “Hey. Take it easy, they are just kids,” but then I had a vision of me having to sit in the middle of a classroom with a DUNCE hat on my head.
The woman DS being satisfied ordered the kids to walk. My class was in the lead and they marched in line from the cafeteria to the corner and then stopped. I asked the girl who was in the front on the line, “Why did you stop?”
“Mr. Nix, we have to wait for you,” she answered. “We’re not supposed to move unless a teacher says so.”
I looked down at the young face staring back at me. I wanted to tell them they were in school not prison, but I needed to follow their protocol, so I just said, “Okay. Well I’m here.” With that they marched from that corner to our classroom which was the first room on the right of the next corner.’
They paused at the door to wait for me, then I heard the 5’4 petite drill sergeant discipline a child from my class. “Do you have a sweater or a jacket?” The little girl nodded no. “You are not allowed to wear a dress with spaghetti straps to school! Don’t let me see that again!”
I motioned for the kids to go in the classroom.
Once all the kids were in the room, I being the last one in closed the door. With a big smile on my face, I said, “So how was lunch?”
I heard a few moans escape from the children.
“Only a couple more hours and the day will be over. I’m sure it will go by pretty quick.”
2 hours passed slowly, while the noise volume kept increasing. I finally slammed my hand down on a desk and said, “I want y’all to be absolutely quiet!”
For the next 10 minutes I didn’t hear a sound. The volume did pick up but nothing like it had been. The last 30 minutes I had them clean up around their areas and so forth and then the call for bus numbers came on the afternoon projection which is broadcasted on the whiteboard. It is my responsibility to make sure kids know that their bus is here before they are dismissed.
The last 3 students were waiting. “Our bus is always last Mr. Nix.”
“Well since you have been a good bunch today, I’ll put on some music and y’all can dance if you want.”
“Yeah, “the boy who who was waiting to get on the bus with the 2 girls said. “Y’all dance. And I’ll be the judge.”
“What kind of music?” one of the girls asked suspiciously.
On my phone I have a dance playlist that I listen to when all I want to do is get some steps in and dancing is the best way to work out without really having to workout.
I started the first song which was “Beat It” by Michael Jackson.
“It’s Michael Jackson!” the girls said in unison.
They began dancing and singing to the mp3 recording. After they had danced to that song and half of another MJ song, their bus number came up on the screen. I stopped the music.
“Y’all have a great afternoon,” I said.
“Why can’t Ms. Smith be the substitute and you be our regular teacher?” one of the girls asked.
“There are a lot of reasons for that,” I tried to put together words that a 7 to 8 year old would understand. “But the main reason is that is this is her job and I’m just filling in for her.”
“Will you come back?”
“Yes,” I smiled. If Ms. Smith is out again and I am available, I will be more than happy to come back again.”
The three students took a marker and wrote this on the board, “Mr. Nix is cool and the best.”
That made the horrible day I had worthwhile. This week I had other things going on that I had to make my unavailable for substituting a class. Whew! It was a welcomed break! What a great part time job with a flexible schedule. I have been looking for classes to sub next week. I wondered where it will take me, and what will happen.
J.P. Nix 