Really. (Leans head) Really.#1

“Really. (Leans head) Really.”

Since I haven’t been working as a full-time classroom teacher this year, I often spend my days moonlighting as a substitute teacher here in NYC.  Which has been…..

Initially, it seemed like the greatest idea; a pure get rich quick scheme.  I would have to pay my $150 dollar application fee, which wasn’t so bad because the Fingerprinting portion of the application was also being counted towards the process of being certified in New York State anyway. Despite the usual bumps in the road with that process, things were ok.  Except, it took several weeks for me to receive my DOE (Department of Education) Smart Card (which is the id that schools use to ensure that I’m not someone impersonating me.)

‘Smart Card’ in hand I went to a bar, and beamed about being back in the game doing something that I love.  Except “Subcentral” never called.  Heroically and frantically, I walked through neighborhood schools with a little cover letter, and a resume and ok…Subcentral called a few times, and we connected.  By Subcentral, I am talking about the mysterious voice that calls me anywhere between 7 and 9 am, Monday-Friday.  If you miss the call, that’s it.  The system hates you for a few days and you have to sit staring at your phone, hoping that you don’t need a bathroom break, or to flip your eggs next time it calls.  Subcentral, like the great and powerful OZ, is quite unforgiving.

My first few subbing incidents went relatively without incident.  No challenging children.  No arrogant staff.  Sure, I didn’t make any friends, but I didn’t make any enemies, and for that alone, good ole Subcentral should have no issues.  But as the drought went on, and Subcentral kept playing me like a chump, and well, I needed to work.  

Enter a friend of mine from middle school, 5th grade even.   Far back West in Buffalo, Ny. She’s been working as Middle School Teacher her in NYC (funny, where life takes a person, huh?) Anyhow, she had some personal business to attend to and thought of me to sub for her classes for the day and I (being poor and wanting to work) was cool with that.  The night before I laid out my clothes, and dreamed of the sweet children that a school in the West 70′s of Manhattan could have.  These were my friend’s children, she would warn them that a friend of hers would be in for her tomorrow.  They would bring me Snickers and their completed homework.  We would laugh, and I would make up a funny story or two about my friend’s because sometimes I’m an ass.  All would be well at Green Flea Middle School. Except not.

Cut to a few weeks before when over a few Christmas cocktails, my friend expressed that the Green Flea Market had a few problem students.  All knowing and all amazing, I answered with quips like my grandmother but a few bad apples can ruin the bunch or that oft said idea that- When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.

 

 

 

 

Lies.  There is nothing, nothing, NOTHING…NOTHING! Nothing that could have prepared me for these bad ass children. To their credit, a few of the kids have emotional problems and their own IEP’s (Individual Education Programs) that as a Sub-Teacher, I’m not privy to.  But really.  During one period, in the presence of a Classroom Teacher, and a Co-Teacher, these ingrates were nothing but rude.  I asked one student if he had wrote the sample problem on the board, to which he responded “You got some big ass lips, Mister.” Huh, what?  In another class, I confiscated a toy from this one child upon which he promptly stood out his seat, walked to the door, slammed it shut, and then turned and looked at me, to yell – “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”  Really?  I wanted to say, “Dude, I believe in whippings and spanking children, more than I do in self-defense, so bring it.” But I had the resolve and strength of a professional to just sit there with a blank stare.  If the little bitch hadn’t start to cry when I didn’t after his outburst, this would have been a bit of a disturbing experience.

I also had an incident that I call “The Curious Case of the Sunflower Seeds.”  You see, sunflower seeds magically appeared on the floor under this girl (nicknamed Coco Puff – after her “My Mama might not love me” pig tail/hair style thing.) Coco Puff didn’t even know what a sunflower seed is.  She thought I was singling her out because sunflower seeds had somehow magically appeared only under her chair.  Oh, and there must have been a ventriloquist in the room throwing his or her voice, because the smacking lips and cracking of sunflower seed shells- while the sounds simultaneously came from Coco Puff’s lips…it wasn’t her.  To quote Coco Puff in her distinctly BET/ATL/Hood fabulous voice, “THAT’S CRAZY.” The most interesting piece of evidence I discovered was that a spirit must be in the room.  And that spirit must have possessed Coco Puff because not only could she not explain how the bag of sunflower seeds appeared in her hand but…but…but it affected the English language because the word “Wow” is actually pronounced “WOooooOOoOoW”.  Yes, that was 8 or 9 O’s.  I can’t believe I went through all my life not knowing the proper way to pronounce “WoooooOoOo.”  But now I do.  Thanks, Coco Puff.

 

To be continued in  Really. (Leans head) Really. #2 – Subtitled “What he say?”

[Chester Kent]

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