What I guess I'm trying to say is: teaching is a rollercoaster in that there will probably be a lot of screaming for some reason. Someone might throw up. And no matter how much you have to pee, you can't until the ride is over (or until the bell rings for break). At the end of it all, you're frazzled, your hair is a mess, your voice may be sore...and yet, you get right back on and do it all over again.
Last week started with a much less thrilling kind of ride: an hour long commute on the good old Bristol bus. I don't have too much to say about that which hasn't already been expressed in a very sassy email to the bus company, so let's just go with "it sucked". I was placed for the whole week in Year Six at a school on the outskirts of town, so getting there was more of a chore than normal.
When I showed up, I was greeted with the bane of every supply teacher's existence: no plans. On top of that, the TA (teaching assistant) was off on Monday. The deputy head hurriedly helped me to photocopy some worksheets for the morning and I scrambled to remember the difference between an adverb and a preposition and to mentally sort out the various methods of division. Put simply: last minute prepping for Year 6 is much more difficult than say, Reception. I mean, I generally don't have to remind myself what sound "ch" makes. Anyway, the morning was somehow sorted just in time, and I was able to slog my way through.
For the afternoon though, I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I was given a very brief "week at a glance" type schedule that essentially listed subjects and times but nothing else. I was told "They have RE (religion) and then Music... usually the TA helps with those but she's not here obviously. I wouldn't do music with them as a supply. You don't have to stick with this though, you can do whatever you'd like."
Great. 20 minutes left of lunch to figure out an entire afternoon, and all I've got is "do whatever" basically?
Naturally, I chose art. By some miracle, I was able to find an art lesson online that used a concept from their maths (rotational symmetry) and that didn't require many materials. It went okay... but I still left that day feeling like I had just come off of the metaphorical rollercoaster after eating too much funnel cake. It's not that the kids were bad. They were your standard Year 6 class -- noisy, obsessed with internet humor, a bit "too cool for school"... but nothing that I haven't handled before. It was just the uncertainty and stress of coming into a day with minimal planning, combined with a stressful commute that really threw me. And it was my birthday.
Luckily, the week did get easier. The TA showed up and was an absolute lifesaver. I saw the kids all dress up as book characters on World Book Day. I got to do another really fun art lesson with the students. The commute was still killer though -- I was often so tired in the evenings that I would be falling asleep before 10 PM. And the kids weren't always perfectly behaved. They seemed to have no concept of a noise level between "absolute silence" and "absolute chaos". But when Friday rolled around, it all became worth it.
One of the quirks of Year 6 is that it's hard to tell whether the kids actually like you or if they think you're the worst teacher that has ever walked the planet. Kids in Reception or Year One will give you hugs or outright declare their love for you, whereas Year 6 is a little more subtle. On Friday, I'd had to give a few talks -- about working quietly, about not passing notes in class, about not standing up and bugging someone else when they're trying to do their maths. That kind of stuff. But at least the afternoon was more relaxed -- I gave them time to finish their art and even put on some (school appropriate) song requests on the Smartboard.
At the end of the day, as everyone packed up, three of the boys came up to me a bit bashfully. "We actually had something to tell you" one of them said. "When you told us to stop passing notes around class, well, we were actually passing this around:" They handed me something from behind their backs.
I couldn't believe it. They had somehow managed to make and pass around this card, unnoticed by me, and get everyone in the class to sign it. Shows how observant I am. "We thought you were really good" one of the boys said. "We don't always like supply teachers. Mr. Jones (name changed) treated us like dogs, he had this little clicker that he would click at us when we were being bad." Note to self, do not use a clicker on the children. The impact of their little gift was not lost on me. "You guys, thank you so much, this is amazingly sweet" I told them, and I meant it. "I'm going to keep this and look at it whenever I have a bad day". And yes, bad days will happen again, but this was not one of them. I felt appreciated and proud. This was one of the days that makes it all worth it.
Let's return to our cliched carnival ride metaphor one more time: Sometimes, rollercoasters have those little cameras that snap a photo of you at the very top of the very highest hill, so that you can laugh at it afterwards. Well, if this week were a rollercoaster, I think that photo would be of me with a ridiculously goofy smile on my face.
Let's return to our cliched carnival ride metaphor one more time: Sometimes, rollercoasters have those little cameras that snap a photo of you at the very top of the very highest hill, so that you can laugh at it afterwards. Well, if this week were a rollercoaster, I think that photo would be of me with a ridiculously goofy smile on my face.
Until next time,
C.
C.
