Lessons From Substitute Teaching
Before the pandemic, I was a product manager at Hewlett Packard Enterprise. Although I had previously worked as an intern there during college, learning about and analyzing SMB trends in an experience that inspired me to pursue my second General Business minor, I returned to the company—this time as part of the AMD side of the business. Before long, I was brought on as a full-time employee.
There were a lot of high-tech lessons to learn, fires to put out, and customer opportunities to secure, but amidst the organized chaos, I managed to keep my head above water long enough to become an adaptable little manager in the making.
And then, COVID.
What began as a novel two-week work-at-home experience rapidly descended into something that felt more along the lines of house arrest. My novice attempts to craft and maintain a healthy work-life balance was quickly and utterly upended and before long, I realized that I couldn’t keep going with such an already poisoned mental state looming over me (I got better, though! See Lessons From Gratitude Journaling if you’re interested in that journey). Ultimately, I decided that it would be better for me to step down from my position, pull myself together, and get myself back on track rather than push myself into an embarrassing, irreparable situation.
Still, I needed a means of income—and a defined career path, if product management really wasn’t the thing for me. I ended up turning on the basis that it might be complementary to my writing work. So, I started alternative certification training, and in the meantime, I would become a substitute teacher as a placeholder profession in the meantime.
A whole lot has changed since then. For one, I decided to cut my teacher journey short after realizing, reevaluating, and reaffirming my goals and motivations. While I’ve doubled down on my job-hunting and personal development, though, I’ve remained a substitute, where I’ve found plenty to see, do, and learn from in the meantime.
My substitute experience has been divided between two high schools. The first is shiny and new, while the other is older and admittedly a lot rougher around the edges (let’s just say I learned how to identify students on illegal substances rather quickly). I’ve long-term substituted at both (which is a fancy way of saying you’re a full-time teacher on a substitute’s payroll, give or take a few responsibilities), but while there are plenty of ways which they drastically differ, my experiences with students, teachers, co-teachers, APs, and coordinators between both schools revealed that there was so much more beneath the surface that they shared upon a deeper look.
As a result, I learned a slew of important lessons…
Lesson 1: The Importance of Classroom Management
You can tell a whole lot about a class’s teacher by how the students act when they’re away, and thus far, I’ve found four key archetypes:
THE OFFICE: Often found in (pre-)AP subjects, these classes are typically the indicator of an effective, if not strict and attentive teacher. Once they’re given instruction, the students will usually keep to themselves and work quietly on their given assignments. Even if they lollygag, it’s done just as silently and after they’ve done all their work. Rarely, after the bell rings, you’ll hear complaints about the teacher that transform into complements for your cucumber-cool substitute demeanor, but that neither admonishes nor appreciates the fact that it takes a special kind of teacher to keep that environment going. By far, these are the easiest classes to substitute.
THE CIRCUS: These kids are like a tightly-packed car of clowns at a carnival: yacky and perhaps a bit wacky, but ultimately doing what they’re supposed to. They may get a little loud and move around a bit, but all your skeptical computer-checks and eyebrow-shifting will reveal that these kids are doing what they’re supposed to—just in a more chaotic fashion than most. The teacher here is probably considered more on the “fun” side, either as a result of what they’re teaching or how they teach it. You can’t let your guard down completely, lest the bad apples be allowed to spoil the barrel, but being able to trust the kids and lighten up always comes with a feeling of relief.
THE FREE-FOR-ALL: Truly, the class with the least amount of class. Odds are no work’s getting done, students are bouncing around like adrenaline-frenzied frogs, and there’s enough chatter and clatter that would let you pop a balloon without anyone batting an eye. When you’re dropped into one of these, the best thing you can do is hunker down, ready a sticky note for some strongly-worded substitute feedback, and make sure none of those kids hurt, get hurt, or sneak out of the classroom. This kind of class can’t be blamed fully on the teacher—it could just be a perfect storm of rowdy personalities—but it can indicate when a class has little to no respect for them, or if the teacher is simply clinging for dear life.
THE NON-CLASSROOM: These classes could easily be mistaken for office worker types of classrooms, but these kids aren’t quiet for focus’s sake. If Anarchists are a classroom that may have given up on the teacher, these classes are made up of those who may as well have given up on themselves. No signs of acting out, but no signs of progress, either. It’s as though they just don’t care, or they’ve just given up. They might do work if they’re pushed, but they’re probably sure they have better things to do, and wouldn’t be afraid to make it loud and clear if you try and help them. By far the most depressing group to work with, but I wouldn’t say the teacher is the sole cause for this kind of class…
Regardless of whether a class leans more one way than another, the most important thing that you can do for yourself, your kids, and the teacher whom you’re covering, is to make sure that YOU are always consistent. What you do one day for one class that works for everyone might not slide well with another class the next day, but that doesn’t mean you should be kept from doing what you ought to, nor what you’re asked to.
Lesson 2: Identifying Types of Students
Just like with classes, it’s also pretty easy to pluck certain archetypes for various students. These have much less to do with what you or your teacher do, and is much more related to a student’s seen and unseen personal circumstances. You can’t do a whole lot to control how a student may act or react, but awareness of those ques can help you find the best approaches with them.
THE STARS: Obviously the ideal students you’d want in a class. They’ll pay attention to lectures and lessons, complete classwork in class and homework on time, and have valid (and often documented) explanations if any kind of complications arise. While they aren’t immune to error, by far their greatest strength is being able to acknowledge and fix things quickly and efficiently. You can tell that these students want to succeed and are willing to put the time in to do so, with such inspiring and impressive work ethic that they even put some grown-ups to shame.
THE PERFECTIONISTS: There’s a lot of overlap between these students and star students as both are (typically) kindhearted and understand the importance of doing well. However, there is one big difference: for them, getting a good grade is more important than learning the material, and as a result, they aren’t afraid to use underhanded methods to make sure that happens. It’s always heartbreaking to catch a student you thought was a star commit blatant plagiarism even though they were obviously capable of doing stellar work of their own and then watch as they do little else but sigh embarrassingly and apologize. It’s extremely fortunate that these students often learn from their mistakes and make amends. At the very least, they’ve had the opportunity to learn from their mistakes before it was too late.
THE FRETTERS: These students’ grades can vary wildly, but they typically do well in most of their classes, except one or two where they might struggle to maintain a C or D. Like perfectionists, the grade matters more than actually learning the material, but they’ll spend more time visibly panicking and confiding to you for help rather than try to help themselves—a symptom of low self-esteem and/or certain developments behind the scenes that, in the worst-case scenarios, can manifest itself in the form of tears. I won’t speak harshly about these kids—in fact, if I had to put my younger self in any of these categories, this is probably where I’d land. Instead, I acknowledge that they are trying their best, but would do what I can to help them take a deep breath and overcome their fears.
THE BRILLIANT SLACKERS: From the get-go, you can tell that these kids would be the highest-performing kids in the class… if they at least tried. Instead, you’ll catch their eyes on their phones more often than on you, and an uncanny mix of missing assignments and perfect submissions put these students between high Cs and low Bs. You’ll try to catch them off guard with a question, only for them to catch YOU off guard with a well-worded answer and assurance that, yes, they get it. Like watching a racecar driving at 20mph during a big race, it’s frustrating to know that they are actively choosing not to go for the gold.
THE TRUANTS: These kids may as well not have shown up to class at all, because they’re either doing everything they shouldn’t or absolutely nothing at all. This is the category for both the wildest ne’er-do-wells and the laziest loafers, both of whom have decided to go by the arrhythmic beats of their own drums. Try to correct their behavior, and they’ll either straighten out for a good minute or two before falling back into their old ways or take your intentions as a personal assault against their dignity. The most frequent indicators of these kinds of students are mumbling, standing and walking around, being a distraction to other students, and random bursts of sounds coming from the playlists or video/game apps on their phones or…game consoles!? like with free-for-all classes, the best thing you can do is weather their storm, offer warnings and corrections, and, when called for, write disciplinary referrals for the office and/or notes for the teacher (and a note for all my self-aware truants: don’t say “the Teacher/AP doesn’t care.” You might find someone willing to call your bluff).
Lesson 3: Losing Faith in Humanity
You know it from my blog post where I critiqued Pokémon that I’m not exactly ecstatic with the current state of student learning, and every interaction with students, parents, and teachers assured me that I am in very good company.
Any attempt to gather my thoughts on mid- and post-COVID learning regresses into a muck of words and personal anecdotes, so I’ll say it plain: digital learning has turned out to be a catastrophic detriment to kids. A lack of classroom means a lack of professional atmosphere, essential social interaction and queues, and accountability. In many cases, students are free to switch off their cameras and mute their mics, being present without actually being present. Even if they’re technically participating, learning from bed isn’t exactly effective.
With that being said, the in-class learning situation didn’t fare much better. Absences and tardies were reduced to mere formalities, and students were given second, third, and fourth chances if they’re first attempt didn’t indicate the bare minimum of understanding and effort. By the end of my long-term substitute assignment as I put in and reviewed final grades, the vast majority of students who failed were those that didn’t put in a single lick of effort.
Sharing my woes with teachers, the vast majority of them were sympathetic, but the best advice they had to give was to simply keep my head down. In one instance, a teacher of six years nearly wept during a meeting, saying they weren’t sure if they even wanted to do this anymore. In another instance, I was told by the administration to give a student a makeup opportunity, despite it being unfair to the students who actually took advantage of the opportunity and despite it being against the plan set in motion by the teachers of the department, all because that student complained. By the end of the year, numerous teachers, many of whom I considered mentors, chose to leave the school for other teaching gigs, having been overwhelmed by the administration’s attempts to give ridiculous amounts of chances to students who wouldn’t even bother to help themselves.
The absolute worst part, however, was watching just how uninvolved the parents were in any of this. I understand that being a parent is a herculean task, that they should be able to trust teachers with their children’s learning, and that the involvement of parents in school affairs is a noticeably heated topic. Even so, take it from someone who’s at least been able to glance at the current situation: students have lost nearly two years of both academic and social growth, and nobody is prepared to fix that deficit without cooperation. I would rather have a rocky relationship with a student’s parents if it assured that they were receiving the best support they could be offered than watch as a student gets one missing grade after another while emails and phone calls remain unanswered.
Lesson 4: Never Giving Up
I want to wrap this post up on a high note, and with a personal story that inspires me to this very day.
Several days after starting a long-term assignment that would last from just a couple weeks before Christmas to the end of the school year, my class received a new student. The student had quite the tragic set of circumstances to put it lightly, and she was earnest enough to admit it and not allow it to rain on her positive attitude.
Still, she struggled with the curriculum—not because she wasn’t learning, but because she had no faith in herself. Despite that, she put in more work than I saw many other students put in that year, and was able to earn well enough grades without any extra help.
One day, though, for the final major grade of the semester, students had to write a one-page essay over about a week’s time. After the first few days, she beckoned me over, staring at a blank document and saying bluntly, “Sir, I can’t do this.”
I sat down and comforted her, but I understood simply powdering her with encouragement wasn’t going to help her. Instead, I simply told her not to be overwhelmed by what she had yet to do, and that the best approach was to take it one sentence at a time.
“Write one sentence, then take a break. When you’re ready, write another, then take a break. Then one more sentence, then one more break. Soon enough, you’ll feel comfortable writing two sentences at a time, and then three sentences. Before you know it, you’re writing entire pages without breaking a sweat!”
It seemed to have helped her in ways even I couldn’t have imagined. The next day, she came back with her essay nearly completed—and three pages long. The sense of pride I had putting in that grade had me walking on air. However, the most important reason she succeeded was because we both had faith in each other, and we were both willing and ready to put in earnest effort.
To any full-time or aspiring teachers reading this, thank you. Your hard work assures that the next generation can be prepared for whatever awaits after graduation, so long as you stay true to yourself, your students, and your mission.
To students, don’t be afraid to try your best! Don’t get so wrapped up in grades that you lose your way, but instead, find a way to connect with the curriculum and be sure to seek help from family and faculty when you need it so that you don’t get stuck in the mud.
To parents/guardians, I stand by my previous request. Neither your student nor their teacher can do it all by themselves. Your input as the caretaker of your child and a spectator to their successes and struggles means so much to everyone, as does your kind and constructive feedback.
As for myself, while I stand by what I said about deciding to not go forward with being a teacher, I walk away with invaluable experiences and memories that have helped me figure out the kind of person I want to become. While I continue to improve myself and seek out my next big thing, I’ll keep up my substitute work and see what else I can learn.