I am so SO sorry

I was thinking of changing the title of this blog to ‘Thoughts of a Substitute Teacher (TOAST)’ but to be honest being a substitute teacher commands so little respect that I doubt you’d bother listening to me long enough to actually read the explanation. You’d be plotting how you could put a drawing pin on my seat, or how you could get every mobile phone in the room to go off at exactly the same moment, or how you could persuade me that your regular teacher allows you to watch videos and eat popcorn in class all the time.

Maybe it would help if we changed the name. Substitute teacher sounds like someone who you bring on when the science teacher gets injured in a nasty challenge down the left wing. Maybe we should call them ‘guest teachers.’

I have to apologise to sub teachers everywhere. As a pupil I mocked you, I showed you no respect and I took advantage of your temporary status by pushing classroom boundaries to the limit at every opportunity. As a teacher I belittled your standing and possibly contributed to your hardships by not leaving enough work to cover a Friday afternoon double period. Covering the odd class for an absent colleague every now and again gave me the false impression that yours was a pressure-free existence, void of challenge or purpose. My opinions have changed dramatically.

For the past few months I have been a substitute teacher and I don’t believe I have done a more difficult job in my life. Standing in front of a group of thirty kids, none of whom you know, a group of kids who are determined to push you as far as they can, a group of kids whose names include (apparently) David Beckham, Mickey Mouse, Cevin(sic) Costner and Cesc Fabregas… Standing there knowing that you have to gainfully employ them despite the fact that you don’t know what topic/unit of work they’re doing, what work they’ve already done and in what ability range they lie. Of course there’s no point in asking them what they’ve done so far:

Miss always reads to us from Autotrader, and then sends us down to the off license for some WKD Blue.We don’t have any textbooks. We watch Jeremy Kyle and make notes on lie detectors and their use in the discovery of whether or not some woman’s husband has been sleeping with her sister for three years. Notes? No, sorry, don’t know what they are – but we do a lot of word searches and colouring in.

So, here it is – my open letter of apology to substitute teachers everywhere. Yours is not an easy lot. You have skills I didn’t know existed and deserve every bit as much respect, if not more, than regular teachers. I have had my eyes opened with crowbars and offer my most humble apology – I am truly, truly sorry.