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The Substitute Chronicles
This series features the reflections after each of my shifts as a substitute teacher. I candidly disclose my complex emotions, reactions, and experiences in a job that changes every day. Follow along as I process the absence of routine and the ups and downs of working as a guest teacher! This post was written on October 3rd, 2023 "'Come paint with me!': a half day in preschool"I picked up today’s shift last minute – less than twenty-four hours before it began. I chose the unexpected. Originally, I was scheduled for an afternoon first-grade position. When the teacher took back the shift, they offered a free day to sleep in, treat myself to coffee, and take my time packing before I drove to my hometown. Instead, I woke up at 5:15 am, drove up and down a familiar hilly side street, admiring the red and pink hues mixing as the sun poked its inviting head out of the treeline, and clocked in four hours as a preschool aide.
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Follow Journal of an Evolving Teacher on social media!
The Substitute Chronicles
This series features the reflections after each of my shifts as a substitute teacher. I candidly disclose my complex emotions, reactions, and experiences in a job that changes every day. Follow along as I process the absence of routine and the ups and downs of working as a guest teacher! "Una sorpresa maravillosa"I woke up this morning –again at 5:15 a.m.– interrupted in the middle of a dream. I could not believe it was time to get up. At least two more hours, right? Not this time. My room was so dark as I rolled out of bed that I mistook the time for 2:00 a.m., not the beginning of a workday.
My eyes were heavy, tired from last night's crying spell in which I finally erupted my frustration, disappointment, and defeat onto my soft comforter. Every signal in my body was pulling me back to bed. I drowned it out, turning on my desk lamp to flood my room with light. Stumbling out to the bathroom, I commenced my morning routine. Typically, I feel better with a comfortable outfit. Clothes transformed my confidence. I needed all the intrinsic motivation I could muster. Settling for my new favorite green autumn-themed long-sleeve shirt and matching pants, I walked downstairs to prepare my magical brew – coffee with oat milk and honey – and a sustaining breakfast (usually a couple slices of peanut butter toast and a banana). The rest of the morning was sluggish: I read on the couch before giving the sub plans another thorough look (the teacher emailed them to me the previous afternoon). Scanning the plan for possible spaces for filler activities, breaks, and songs, I jotted some ideas in my designated sub notebook. Thankfully, my teacher mode activated upon my arrival at the school. The depressed, exhausted persona renewed with a welcoming smile and recharged energy (the brew worked its magic). It was a new day, new students, new schedule. And I had to be ready for whatever happened after that first bell. The following hours were a marvelous surprise. I had fun! I laughed, danced, played, and connected with students and staff. Despite working in a new school, a guide was always there, from the responsible five-year-olds in my class to the warm staff walking the halls. “Which way?”, I asked the line leader, taking the cautious first steps out of the classroom on our way to specialists. “This way!”, three small fingers pointed, directing me to the left, down the ramp, and through a maze of hallways. The most wonderful surprise? I felt respected, heard, and welcomed by the students. They quickly accepted me into their bilingual world. They listened, took turns when speaking, and followed directions with grace – a quality I previously did not associate with kindergartners. Their attitude reminded me that children are lights: curious, optimistic, kind-hearted, observant, honest, fragile little bulbs with limitless potential. The adults around them choose between nurture and neglect – whether their light is encouraged to shine or left to burn out before it is too late. . . .Lesson: as a substitute, expect the best, prepare for the worst, and welcome the surprises.
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AuthorMeghan Hesterman (she/her) is an aspiring educator, storyteller, and traveler. Through regular posts and commentary, she candidly reflects on her evolution as an educator and young adult. Categories
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