High School; REALLY all that bad...

When I first started talking about substitute teaching my friends and family asked me, "Well...you won't do high school right?" trying to assess my mental health, and me giving the results in one short sentence, "Sure! Why not? You just B.S. with the kids, it'll be FINE! What could be so bad??" Well, now that I have cured that mental illness here is the story that goes along with the medicine:
The Sunday after I subbed at the middle school I called into SubFinder and heard the message that the local high school would be needding a sub for "Secondary English" (I was beginning to think that 'Secondary' was anything but after 'Primary', it was just code for "You're crazy if you take this job..."). So pressing 2 to confirm that yes I, Allyssa Correia, am indeed a crazy person, I took the job.
Waking up and realizing you have voluntarily taken a job at a high school as a substitute teacher is a little like waking up and realizing you've slept with a guy that, does not in fact have a full head of hair but rather an ass-full of hair. You have NO idea what possed you (did you imagine pressing 2 after all??) to accept such a crazy job. So I got dressed in the most fashionably challenged outfit of all time (I still need to do laundry as a matter of fact) and headed down the street (waving hello to the newly re-fanged middle-schoolers on my way there.)
I got there and probably had even brighter lights shinning in my face because after signing in, a man walked by and said, "Sub?" I shook my head I couldn't even admit I was a crazy. He looks at me and says, "Good luck." I would need more than luck to survive this day, I needed a personal leprechain/unicorn/rabbit with 8 feet in my pocket, but alas, I didn't not have such a creature...
I asked where I could put my lunch, imgaining the osais of bliss and tranquility that mutliple water-fountains flowing with champange that was the teacher's lounge, where I would be massaged by men in loin clothes while being fed my lasange I had brought for lunch (yes I did make it all by myself, and no, my kitchen hasn't been the same since). Instead, from the lady hardened by years of prepetual high school, came, "In the nurse's frig, you can put your lunch there...lets see if there's any room..." What, so we'll need to move some test tubes and viles of blood that will later be tested to see if teenagers are in fact a different speicies of human...okay sounds good to me!
"oh okay..."I gingerly place my lunch in the frig and head off to look for the classroom.
I felt like a freshman again, I still to this day remember starting freshman year and one day being able to walk under the hands of two senior year boys high-fiving, at chest level.
Everywhere I saw kids making out (at least someone is getting some...) holding hands, doing the "girl" hugs, you know, the ones where they bend their arms before extending them clenching the end of the sweater because they really don't want to actually touch their friends...
I got to the classroom by asking a kid (who was taller than me but who looked to be, at the most, half my age). It was at the far end of the school and the door faced a path that few travesed. "Great," I thought, "no one will hear me scream.....there will be no witnesses..."
Looking around the classroom my mantra came back to my mind, "I am in control! I AM the teacher today." Only today it didn't work...the high school kids were using their voodoo magic to penetrate into my mind...
The first period was prep which was both a blessing and a curse. I got everything I needed photocopied but this was just more stewing in my own nervous juices. I sat there, waiting, looking at the paper plate that read, "The Clock is Working...Are You?" with a high school kid(sans-evil magic wand), sitting in a desk not really working...teachers are so stupid sometimes.
Walking to the office to make copies, I got the best piece of advice from a sign in a teacher's window:
"HIRE A TEENAGER...WHILE THEY STILL KNOW EVERYTHING."
God was high school really this much of a wasteland?
When the bell for second period rang the kids started filing in my dread grew with every step they took. Like the play that high school is, all the characters were there. There was the snowboarder/skater/tight pant, puffy jacket, Vans wearing kid with this hair blinding him to the truth of what an idiot he looked like, even his name just screamed, "I am forever a teenager!". There were the cute, blonde, popular girls, with their Volcom zip-up sweatshirts and their BCBG sweat suits (um, I won't maket that much in a day...what is WRONG with this picture?!). One girl stood up and in her front-rowed seat, started to perform the first lines of the (pl)day, "I got my hair cut! Don't you like it?" Flipping her head around to the point I thought it was going to snap off. "Oh shit," I pondered this great oversight, "she's going to be pissed that no one noticed first w/o her saying anything." BCBG girl said she couldn't see adifference, but a girl (obviously not her closest friend...) said, "Oh it is cute!!!" Oh nerdy girl, don't be a sell out! You know you hate her!!
Alas, high school really is a scum infested pond that while chlorine would kill the fish you wonder what's worse...
While the teacher had left some decent sub-plans that while made sense and were easy to follow, it was still none the less miraculous that it was pulled off. Clearly some sort of act of God that has left me wondering how atheists could exist. The second (first of the day thank you very much snotty popular girl) period kids need to read for twenty minutes (a WHOLE twenty minutes!) and then write a 5 sentence summary of what they read. As I walked around the classroom I saw a boy who wrote (in this size and style:)

I read that hejumped. He swam. He ate. He....

As I walked by his desk I said, "You need five sentences" because I figure that five sentences need to at least take up oh, more than two lines. He said, " I do have five sentences." and with his chubby fingers (making it all the more difficult to see what he was pointing to) "See, one, two, three, four, five." I just walked away.
After that they were to correct some sentences that were supposedly run-ons. 20 of them, on their OWN piece of paper. After going through roll I look at the seating chart...
I ask a kid who was not where he was supposed to be, "Why are you sitting there?"
He looked surprised. Hey kid! They make you get your B.A. before subbing FOR A REASON!
After a few more minutes a girl with fake nails came up and gave me her work. Not just any fake nails mind you, these were *CLASSY* nails.
For the gentleman reading this blog, us ladies have very many choices when it comes to the colors, styles, designs and patters to choose from. You can get the classic white tipped "French Manicure", you can get the whole nail painted one color, add stones etc. This young lady (probably about 16) had her nails tipped alternating hot pink/hot green. I thought to myself, she obivously had to wait until she was 16 to become a dancer because before then, who would have driven her?
Third period, was mostly the same kids only this time, the hipster boarder would be joined by one of his accomplices. The teacher, however, was smarter than your average high school English teacher and had seperated them.
When I had read the statement "...not enough books for everyone, they will have to share" I envisioned an act of sharing that was to become the model for Israel and Palenstine. Had I taken crazy pills?
While there was no outpouring of an ancient blood fued battle, it was pretty close. Obivously "sharing is caring" hadn't resonated loud enough with these kids when Barney said it. After dressing a few wounds (my own) I look up toward the end of class to see that the hipster skateboarder, or whatever he did with pieces of wood, had switched seats with a nerdy boy [we need to learn how to stand up for ourselves and unite!!!] to be seated with his accomplice. What?! I got my B.A. for NOTHING?!?!
After that class was break (because 10 minutes is enough to recover and let your soul heal itself) and another three classes before lunch.
It was more of the same expect this time the kids had to work out on their vocabulary assignment and because either they didn't do it all, or the teaher gave them WAY too little credit, I told them to read after they were done and if they needed help at all to "...raise a quiet hand" (Shit Allyssa, I'm not in elementary school (Kansas) anymore...)). Well most of them read after some reminding (in the form of every five minutes, "Um, excuse me, you yes YOU, you need to be READING right now!" Kid [x20] "I don't have a book". Me [x20] "There are plenty of books that are around the room.")
So after sometime of the arduous process of getting high school kids to read, I walk over to a boy who is sitting doing nothing (see above; x20, that was EVERY class).
Me: "Excuse me, if you are done you need to get a book"
Boy: "I'm not done"
Me: "What do you mean?" (There is no paper, nor pencil on your desk, you must be done...what do you mean you're not done?!)
Boy: "I have no paper."
Me: (growing more incredulous) "What do you mean you have no paper?"
Boy: "I HAVE NO PAPER!"
(Five seconds of stunned silence, leaving five minutes of class time left)
Me: "Why didn't you ask anyone for paper?"
Boy: "I did, no one had any...she (the teacher) didn't have any in her drawer either"
Me: (looking up at a binder two [press 2 to accept this job] feet away full of paper, "Read"

After that was lunch, and instead of getting my massage (I'm never coming HERE again!) I had to eat lunch in the classroom, which, worked out surprisingly well. This boy brought his lunch in and ate with me because "I just moved here from L.A. and don't know anybody." His feminine voice giving making it painfully obvious that he has had a shitter high school experience than I ever had. We ate together and commiserated about being outcasts. Me only for a day, him hopefully for not too much longer, but much longer than me. But, for the moment we were allies and while I had to go outside and yell at a girl for saying "Faggot" I was his safe haven, and he mine.
I guess the some of the fish deserve to live...
Just some more characters that I met while being the day's teacher:
There was the girl that had the face pirecing as I do. (oh shit just ignore that you're four years younger than me),
the boy that looked EXCATLY like Joe (yes, that Joe),
and the girl with the classiest nails of all time: The tips were gold, black and white striped and then instead of flesh pink showing through from her nail bed, the rest of her nail was painted GOLD. Classy.

High school is over and I NEVER have to go back.

Middle School isn't bad...if you're the teacher and you're in charge

First note: The names of the schools and kids have been changed to protect the (semi-) innocent by-standers of my first few attempts at running a classroom.


My first sub job was at a middle school. I remember calling the sub-finder system late one night after going out. There it was, after the pre-recorded voice of the ever cheerful lady telling me whom I had called (because many people just randomly call subfinder) I entered my pin and pressed 2 for avalible jobs, and, as my heart started pounding I accepted the job from 8am-11:05am at a local (right across the street local) middle school. I would be subbing for "Secondary Humanities" (whatever that meant). I was way excited. I had already made plans to spend the night at my friend's house so I drove home, got my outfit ready and headed over there.
5:30am always comes way too fast and before I knew it was headed over to the school. Visions of fangs and newly budding horns came to mind as I parked my car and walked like a deer in the headlights into the office. What the hell was I doing here?! Middle school was the worst time of my life and now I'm going to SUB here?!?! As I walked into the office and asked about what I should do, the secetary looked at me and said, "You've never been here before have you?" I thought to myself, "yeah how could you tell...?" She assured me that they were "...GREAT kids..." and I would "...have NO problems...!" with the classes because she had "...Sixth graders!!" I was reassured by this (notice how assured totally has the word, 'ass' in it.) and went to the classroom. I had gotten there like a billion hours early because I expected kids to be trying to get inside the classroom to escape evil middle school Indian Burial grounds but there was no one. I sat down and got out the lesson plan. I would have three periods, two of them being with mostly the same kids and the third being the same information as the first. No big deal, okay. Doing some calming down techniques I admently repeated over and over again, "I am in charge. I am the teacher today. I am in charge. I am the teacher today." trying desperatly to get myself to believe it. The first class came in and it went well. Their horns must have been hidden because I didn't see any and their fangs I guess had been filed down for the upcoming weekend's parties.
We went over Ancient India (it was totally watered and down, but good thing because all I know about Ancient India is, its old). Then for the next class she had left a cd and we listened to a play verison of The Phantom Tollbooth being preformed by some snobby Brits. Who do they think they are anyway, always being the actors of great plays and the like. After we stopped the tape and were waiting for the bell to ring they asked me my first name. "okay, what the heck would it hurt?" So I had them guess it. No one was even close so I told them, "it starts with 'A' and ends with 'A'." After Amanda (the obivous choice) they guessed 'Allyssa'. But I told them that they probably didn't know how to spell it. SHIT. Um, maybe that wasn't such a good idea because, I instatly envisioned thoundsands of friend requests on myspace from middle school boys. "No one spelled it right! GOOD BYE!" ::whew:: That was a close one...
Then was break. 10 minutes to readjust my brain back to Ancient India...not enough time but it would have to do. You could tell the classes were being tracked because of the lack of diversity in the first two and the overwhelming amount in this class. Great, just great. One kid was totally teachers pet which was awesome, because as I said to myself again (now a mantra) "I am in control. I am the teacher today." Then before I knew it, the day was over.
As I left the campus, headed home for Gilmore Girls and lunch, I thought to myself, "I could do that...but only if I'm in charge, and the teacher for the day."