And suddenly I'm Mr. Gallagher again...

For the last three days, from 7:30 until 2, I've been Mr. Gallagher again.  On Tuesday, I went down to the business office of the district to apply as a sub, where I was told I would need transcripts and three letters of reference, which seemed a lot to ask for a substitute.  I stopped by the principal's office on the way out - he told me to just put his name down as a reference (he was assistant principal when I was there) and give it to him.  I was called the next day, and have been called every day since.  It's been a trip.

Nearly everyone who taught me is gone.  Of all the teachers I had, only four remain, and so the adult faces are just as unfamiliar as the children's.  The last names, of course, are all familiar, plenty of good old polish names.  And the quality of the education, well, I'd have to say I think it's slid a bit, to be honest.

Today, I was teaching physics and life science.  The physics classes were both CP (college prep - the middle rung on the tracking ladder - descriptive, CP, honors, AP) and were both pretty decent.  They were seniors, and worked in groups on a packet of questions without incident.  The second of the life science classes, though, presented me with some problems that I thought it might be worth sharing.  

The first kid walks in, and gives me his name.  Tells me this is going to be a bad class.  I tell him I've had worse as I check his name off the roster.  I see a name I had the day before, and in he comes.  Mr. Danzel, I say.  It's Danzel, motherfucker.  The assistant principal is in the hall, and I pass the kid off.  The AP sends the kid to the office and tells me this is one of the worst classes in the school, and offers to talk to them before we get started.  I tell him I'd rather he not, and we begin.  Kids here actaully swear much more than they do in Mississippi.  In other classes I'd subbed, they thought nothing of asking me if they could go get their shit out of their locker or telling me that they fucked up.  These kids, though, brought it to a new level.  I had two give me fake names, who weren't in the class, before running out the back door (classrooms with two, or, in this case, three doors, present unique scenarios) and being replaced by the actual owners of the names.  I take roll, inform them that they will not be talking, and that they will be taking a quiz.  This, obviously, does not go over well and is met with a chorus of profanity, but I pass out the quizzes, and tell them to keep quiet.  They don't, and as a sub, I have no consequences, but I play it pretty straight.  Stick to last names, and no shouting, calm, polite, each time repeating my expectations.  We will not throw things in this classroom.  You will sit in your desk, not on your desk.  We will not stand on desks, nor will we jump over them (a kid did actually do this.  twice.)  Finally, one of them let loose.  He had walked out of another class I had been subbing two days before, after I told him to stop talking, and today the same request was met with pure fury.  He stood, tore the quiz in two, raised his backpack over his head and slammed it on the desk.  You piss me off.  You make me want to punch you in the fucking face.  Out he went, with a loud slam of the door, and his quiz went into the folder with the others I had collected.  Then the class began to turn around for me.  I took up the rest of the quizzes.  They asked me a couple of questions, the basics - do you ever smile, were you in the military, where did you used to work before this.  I tell them that at my last job, they let me hit the kids.  That at least gets their interest.  One kid especially starts to come around.  He's Kennedy Carpenter, Dominque Olds, a leader who has no interest in class , loves chaos, and is too smart to get caught.  He smiles, and announces - I'm starting to get this guy.  Good, I say.  I collect the quizzes.  You all don't get him, he continues.  He says sir to you, you say sir to him, and everything'll be cool.  It's like, um... he says, fumbling, and, with help from the rest of the students, comes up with it - mutual respect.  It's like mutual.  It is mutual respect, I reply.  Detailing the rest of the class would be a bit boring, but by the end of it, we were having a productive discussion about evolution by natural selection and the three requisite criteria - variability, heritability, and differential fitness, without interuptions and with everyone in his seat.  It felt good and I had more fun with that class than with the ones that actually sat silently and took their quizzes.  Someday I might even go back to teaching.  Right now, though, I think I'd really have to need the money.