Teaching is a Rollercoaster.

Sometimes, supply teaching can be a real rollercoaster. I know, it's a pretty cliched saying, and part of me doesn't really think it makes sense in the context that most people use it. I mean, sure, I get the whole "ups and downs" bit, but I mean... isn't the "down" part of the rollercoaster the best? Isn't going up the hill still pretty thrilling? Maybe I'm overthinking it, but it just doesn't quite match up.

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.

Until next time,


C.

Kids Are Weird and it's Hilarious and Awesome.

Hey all,

It's been a while since my last post and that can be chalked up, in all honesty, to my serious fear of inadequacy. My last post was re-published as an article on The Plaid Zebra, which was really cool, but then I began to feel like every post from then on needed to be profound and article-worthy. So I put off writing another post for a while, because let's face it -- you don't come across profound and article-worthy situations every day. But then I remembered why I am keeping this blog -- to document my time as a new teacher living in a new place, and to share it with the people that care enough to read (hi Mom, hi Dad). Not to write a masterpiece every week.

Perfectionism and self-doubt can be paralyzing. I remember crying in Kindergarten because I couldn't remember how to spell the word "lighter" (darn those silent letters) and making many trips to the recycling bin throughout elementary school with crumpled up pieces of artwork that were "so terrible" that I had to start over. Now here I am, telling kids that it's okay to spell a word wrong as long as we give it our best try, and that their artwork looks beautiful and unique, not terrible. Guess I've gotta pay my dues for being an annoying kid somehow.

All that aside, I have decided to make a small compilation of some of the funny and adorable things that I have seen students say or do over the past couple weeks of supplying -- because when they are not crying over misspelled words or crumpling up their art, kids are actually hilarious. I suspect that this is part of the reason that I decided to work with them. Here are some moments that demonstrate what I mean:

• (Nursery)
  Girl: "Sam, why do you have tissues?"
  Boy: (Thoughtfully) "I have a cold...I have had a cold for 80 years."
  Me: "80 years? That's a very long time! You would be very old by then."
  Boy: (Pondering this deeply) "When I am 96 years old... I will have a beard, probably."


• (Nursery)
  Boy: (In tough, growling voice)"GRRRR. I'm the Hulk!!!"
  Me: "Oh no! Are you a nice Hulk, or a mean Hulk?"
  Boy: (Still in tough voice): "NICE HULK."



• Two girls in Reception (Kindergarten) came up to me and said "Miss! Want to watch our song?" "Sure!" I say, prepared for Twinkle Twinkle Little Star or Baa Baa Black Sheep. Nope. It was "Watch Me (Whip/Nae Nae)" complete with attempted actions. I watched them. They whipped. They Nae-Naed. I died laughing.


• A class of Year Four students had to write newspaper reports on Howard Carter's discovery of King Tut's tomb. One kid decided to describe how Carter "Peered through a hole in the wall". Only, she forgot the "R" in "peered". Guess there were no toilets in King Tut's tomb.

• Same assignment -- kids had to finish a sentence for their news article, beginning with "Howard Carter...". Expected answers were probably along the lines of "Is an archaeologist, is a passionate adventurer" etc.  Instead, a good third of the answers were just about his mustache. One read: "Howard Carter has a long mustache and seems posh". Come on, guys. I need hard hitting journalism here. You're all fired.

While I was taking the register in a Reception class, a little girl begins rubbing my boot. I look down to see what she's doing. "I'm keeping your feet warm for you!" she tells me. Heart = melted.

A little boy in Nursery came up to me at outdoor time and put a construction hat on my head. "You're Bob the Builder". he instructed me. When a 4-year-old tells you you're Bob the Builder, you are now Bob the Builder. It doesn't matter who you were in your former life. You put that hat on, start hammering at random things on the playground, and accept your new identity. There is no questioning it.

While taking the register in a Year One class I had been in a few times, I call a boy's name and ask what he's having for his lunch today. His answer was "Packed lunch, also, I love you." Woah, kid. That escalated quickly.

I told a group of Year One students the really corny knock-knock joke that ends with "Orange you glad I didn't say banana?". Then a little boy wanted to tell me his own joke that goes as follows:
Knock knock? (Who's there?) Banana. (Banana who?) BANANA DOCTOR!! (Cue him laughing hysterically at his own joke). This further confirmed my belief that little kids not understanding the concept of punchlines but trying to tell jokes anyway is the greatest thing ever.

A nursery school girl promptly walked up to me during outdoor play and demanded to know, with a pointed finger, why I wasn't wearing earrings... I have no idea why... but I felt ashamed of my obvious transgression.

I had to do a "long observation" on some Reception kids, meaning I basically follow a kid around for 10-15 minutes, write down the things they do and say, match it to age-level expectations and write their "next steps". The LSA told me to observe one girl, and I was ready to document some wonderful snapshots of learning and development...Except this girl decided she wanted to run around on all fours barking like a dog. For 15 minutes. She only broke character when she noticed someone else doing something they weren't supposed to do, for which she would promptly scold them -- and then right back to being a dog. Next Steps: Stay in character. Become the dog. Research dog's motivations -- Why does it bark? What are it's hopes and dreams? Who is it really?

Sometimes, these tiny humans and their are reminders to smile and to not take life so seriously -- a very important quality to have during the dark, damp Bristol winter. There is a time and a place to be serious -- but sometimes, ya just gotta put on a Bob the Builder hat and run around barking like a dog. (It's an analogy. Please don't actually do that). That's all for now, but stay tuned for more adorably silly tiny-human-moments in the future!


C.

Supply Teacher Problems: All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go

I've got my teacher clothes on: A smart pair of black dress pants (trousers for any Brits reading), a nice blouse, and a comfy cardigan. My purse is packed with lunch, my day planner, an umbrella, my police check, a water bottle, and some animal stickers. Yes, I am totally prepared. Prepared to sit on my bed, on my laptop, sadly eating dark chocolate soy pudding. As one might guess, my morning didn't go exactly as planned.

Supply teaching is great for many reasons: The spontaneity. The flexibility. A new challenge every day. It can also be quite frustrating for a few reasons: The instability. The unpredictability. A new, potential Google Maps disaster every day. I try to focus on the positives, and enjoy the amazing opportunity that I have been given. But it wouldn't be a blog without a little venting, right?
This morning, I got a call around 7:35 to get to a school that I've taught at a few times, and really like. This school is a bit far on the bus -- almost an hour, and that's if I leave at the right time to catch the most direct bus. However, you don't always have the chance to leave at the right time when you're on-call. I did a quick Google Maps check. It said that if I leave at 7:45 I could catch a 7:57 bus that would take me almost straight to the school. I still wouldn't arrive until quarter to nine -- a bit later than I am technically supposed to show up, but on short notice it's sometimes difficult to be extremely punctual. I let my agency know that I would be a bit later, but still arrive before school started at 9:00. They said they would let the school know. All is going okay so far.

But then 7:57 rolls around, and the bus is nowhere to be seen. Whatever, sometimes they're a minute or two late... So I wait until 8:00. Nothing. 8:05. Still nothing. 8:10. Starting to seriously wonder why these buses even have timetables. I call my agency again, who are beginning to sound quite flustered, and they suggest I call a cab, as the schools don't like when teachers are late and will be less likely to request you again. Okay, mildly freaking out now. I call the first cab company, but they won't have anything until 9:00. I call the second, they don't have anything either. I call the third, and they won't have anything for another 25 minutes at least. The bus drives by as I'm on the phone. Okay, definitely freaking out now. I call my agency again, apologizing profusely. They tell me that it's okay, but they will need to find someone else to send that can get there sooner.

Great. I've let them down, let the school down, and now I won't have work today. I should have just hopped on my bike. Why didn't I just bike? I mean, no, I wasn't super confident on my cycling directions to get there and would have likely shown up moderately sweaty... But I probably could have at least made it on time. The walk back to my house felt a bit like a walk of shame.

A First Bus getting ready to make some people late -- An artistic rendering.

Surely this wouldn't have happened if I were a better teacher, more responsible, better at decision making under pressure. Right? Well, Yes and no. There is a well-known proverb that states "Shit Happens" and I choose to stand by those words. Sometimes, for whatever reason -- be it dumb luck or bad karma or what have you -- things just don't fall together in the way you would have hoped.

There is no way to account for all of the thousands of factors involved in a simple decision like 'how will I get to work today?'. It's easy to start playing mind games with yourself, such as "If I Had Only...", "Why Didn't I..." or the classic "Why am I Such an Idiot?". Especially if you're a chronic over-thinker like me. Would I have liked to work today? Yes. Am I disappointed? Yup. But I am going to suck it up, eat my chocolate pudding, and move on. Tomorrow, I will be ready again at seven AM. My bag will be packed, I'll be wearing my teacher clothes, and it will be a new day.


C.