Why is Nobody Clapping?? -- My First Week as a Supply Teacher.

Imagine: You are a newly qualified Elementary school teacher. You have folders on your laptop overflowing with successful lesson plans from your student teaching placements. You know your way around a rubric and have learned to harness the power of "If you can hear me, clap once". You know so many teaching acronyms that you feel you've achieved second-language fluency. You feel armed with knowledge, ready to teach engaging lessons and make a difference in students' lives. You feel totally prepared to walk into your first day of teaching with a smile on your face and the best intentions in your heart.

But it is on that first day, that you will realize that you are completely and utterly wrong.

You are standing at the front of the class, register in hand, trying to accomplish the seemingly simple task of getting 25 small humans to sit down on the carpet quietly. There are children running around the classroom. Children yelling across the room to their friends. One is tugging on your sleeve asking to use the toilet. Another stands in front of you complaining: "Miss! He's calling me names!". "I AM NOT!", the culprit protests from across the room, adding to the growing noise level. You've tried clapping once, twice, three times. They can hear you. Why aren't they clapping back?? "Miss, do you want me to write the names of everyone being silly on the board?" asks a well-intentioned girl, but you don't even know where to start -- it would be much easier at this point to write a list of who's not being silly. You don't want to yell. You told yourself you wouldn't be the kind of teacher who yells, but what choice do you have? "EVERYONE, PLEASE SIT DOWN OR WE ARE ALL STAYING IN FOR BREAK!" you shout, vocal chords straining to be heard amidst the chaos. A few children yell out in protest, but the noise continues, and you wonder to yourself -- out of all of the professions in the world, why did I choose to become a teacher??

On Monday, I began my first full week of supply teaching in Bristol, UK. The scenario described above was my first day in a nutshell. I didn't imagine that I would need to call the Head Teacher in to discipline the class on my very first day of teaching, but I did. I felt disheartened and inadequate, and I questioned whether I was really cut out for this whole teaching thing. But I thought to myself, it's just one day. Maybe it's just a bad day. Tomorrow will be better.

And by some miracle, it was.

That's not to say that there haven't been ups and downs since then, but I'm learning. I'm learning that not every classroom is as chaotic as the first, but some are. I'm figuring out strategies to deal with behaviour, to motivate students...and to hold myself together when these things occasionally, but inevitably fail.

Supply teaching is not an easy job: You are a stranger with no authority coming into a classroom and trying to tell students what to do. But it can be a rewarding job too, as I've found out over the past week.

Never underestimate the power of the
 "mystery prize box".

I've been drawn pictures, given lots of hugs, and greeted by name in the hallways. I've learned that five year olds don't quite get the concept of knock-knock jokes, but their attempts are more hilarious and adorable than the actual punchline would have been anyway. I've gotten to witness Year One boys performing an impromptu song and dance routine to "Uptown Funk" without fully knowing the words, but they tried really hard and that's what counts. I've answered many a curious question about Canada, and discovered that reward stickers are truly magical in their power to silence a noisy classroom. I've taught Spanish with no knowledge of Spanish whatsoever. I've tied shoes, sang songs, and comforted a little girl who was crying because her pet cat was "in the sky" now.

In summary, I've survived. And for a new supply teacher, I think that's an accomplishment in itself. And for now? It's enough.


-- C.