Sunday, May 10, 2009
Christine goes to WORK, part I - pre-1st period.
The day finally came when I would be doing something that paid me money. $84 dollars for a full days work? Better than nothin'!
My teacher from middle school offered me the post of substitute teacher about 3 months ago and recently she delivered me clear directions on what we would be doing. Instead of a nice video of Bill Nye the Science Guy - we would be doing math problems. This makes since because she is a math teacher, but wasn't Bill awesome? The only show that was better was Beakman's World! Somehow I was under the impression that we would be doing 8th grade math, which is fine, because I didn't start failing mathematics until 11th grade = precalc. [Side: Failing Pre-calculus should have told me not to take AP Calc my senior year in high school - SHOULD HAVE. I blame it on peer pressure.]
In her email, she asked, "How is your math these days. [Specifically] volume and surface area." Confident in my ability to follow formulas, I prepared for substituting by showering the night before, packing a lunch, and buying a huge bag of Smarties to bribe the kids with. I don't know anyone that doesn't like tasty pure sugar.
Class started at a rather ambiguous time. It made me realize how long I had not been in middle school. Strange, considering my mental perception of myself is about 17. Anyway, I dress up. Business casual, since it's what I wear best. I knew that it was Friday and that the teachers would probably be wearing their casual best, but since I'm so young, I thought it would be best if I didn't look as young as the students that I would be substituting for. Plus, you never know if the teacher next door is going to be a fiiiiiiine man. Black dress, black cardigan, headband with flowers (the white one with peach and gold flowers), with a double strand of fresh water pearls. On my way out, I grabbed my red belt. No harm in showing my University affiliation. This is the state of Georgia after all. Showing my Georgia love will guarantee some immediate friends in any situation. I roll up to my alma mater, park in a random side lot, pray I don't get towed, pull out my black nylon duffle, check that my phone is off, lock my car and start walking toward the main entrance.
8:30 AM: Step - step - step - step - TRIP - nearly face plant - pick myself up and mutter REALLY?! under my breath. I look down and I've scraped my leg from knee to shin. Shallow cuts like paper cuts are burning and bleeding. Of course I didn't bring a first aid kid or any moisturizer. Blood is welling up in my wounds as I walk furtively back to my car. I cannot walk into middle school actively bleeding. At this point, I'm actively narrating my life and wondering if this is God's way of reminding me how fucking awkward middle school is and how is actually sucks. I blot my leg with a paper towel and begin my journey anew. Thankfully, no one saw me. Fergie's Clumsy is playing in my inner narrative.
8:40 AM: I sign in, and realize that I'm on the basement level with no cell phone service and no computer. No windows either. OH and I'm teaching 6th grade. 12 year olds that basically just out of elementary school.
8:50 AM: The classroom starts filling with students, none of which I make contact with. Let's not kid around, it's 8:50 AM and I am not friendly and will not be friendly until I have to be.
9:15 AM: A teacher befriends me, telling me about the delicious treats in the break room including cake, donuts, brownies, chips, fruit, snacks, coffee, tea, drinks. I debate with myself whether or not I should imbibe on delicious treats. I decide against it as the bell rings for class to start, surprisingly, all the students that were throwing things in the room actually are not in my first period class.
9:25 AM: Class actually starts, but not really. Everyone is supposed to be silently reading but me. Somehow, I can't concentrate on a bodice ripper in front of 30 pre-teen children. HA. I wish I was reading a bodice ripper, I checked out a Grisham for the express purpose of looking like a staid adult. The kids ask me if I speak Chinese, I affirm and slowly a plan starts to form on what I will be doing in the kids' free time after they finish their work.
errr.. by 9:35 AM: I realize that silent reading is a fail. In 20 mins, the students are supposed to be applying their knowledge on how to find surface area and area of three dimensional figures. I have no idea what is going on and my worksheets that I'm giving them only has answers. I pray that they don't ask real questions. I cut open my Smarties, ready to bribe the shit out of them. Kids are drawing on their dry erase boards. Some of them, one Vietnamese boy is particularly cute and great at drawing landscapes with a red marker. I mean.... like....... it looks like Van Gogh's Starry Night.
9:55 Class actually starts. I realize a few things. I am the same height now as I was in sixth grade. I can look kids in the eye, straight on. I am not used to yelling at people. I yell, sure, when intoxicated, but not AT people. Children no longer say the Pledge of Allegiance, and there are no morning announcements. Being called Miss Christine is hilarious. Thus begins my power trip.
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