The 4th Grade and the Phone

There are a lot of things that I am good at. For instance, I know how to dress myself in a way that looks like I wear a size 6 when in actuality I wear a size 8 or 10. I also have the ability to find great sales on shoes, I can laugh at myself during the many mistakes I make, I can recall useless details from tv shows and movies, I can name almost any actor or actress, and I have an impeccable memory for remembering anything that is NOT important. All of these many talents of mine are of absolutely NO GOOD while teaching the 4th grade.

I called Cynthia and asked for a sub job. It was my fault. She didn't have much so my options were a full day of Special Ed at the high school or a half day in the 4th grade. Man, I did not choose wisely. If I were in an Indiana Jones movie attempting to choose the carpenters cup I would have shriveled up and my bones turned to dust right there and then on that sunny Friday morning.

As soon as I accepted I thought to myself, "why, why would I do something so stupid?" I was nervous as all get out so I thought to myself, alright, I'll just dress the part of an elementary school teacher and maybe that will give me the confidence to be able to get through this half day (only 4 hours mind you) of school. Since I do not own any zip up sweaters with the optional appliques of sunflowers, apples, pencils, and a little chalkboard with ABC or 1+2=3 written on it in chalk, I decided to wear khakis, a white tee, and the teacher staple of a jean jacket. I took a couple deep breaths and headed for my car with a huge cup o' coffee. I gave myself pep talks all the way there and just kept repeating "you can do this!"

I arrived at the classroom and the teacher gave me a quick rundown of what I was to do. She kept asking me if I knew certain procedures and I just stared and nodded my head. I didn't want to appear incompetent as I felt so I pretended I knew how to take small children to the restroom, Tack in the Shoe, and the various noisemakers for quieting down the class. I felt lucky that there was a room mom in the classroom. Later, I would discover that this was in fact not-so-lucky.

The students came back from recess and literally we were off. They know the procedure for the day like the back of their hand so I was desperately trying to catch up. They were excited to see a sub, hyper, and CRAZY. I asked them to sit down, it didn't happen, I asked them to quiet down, it didn't happen, I looked around desperately at the room mom for help, again nothing happened. I wondered out loud how I was going to get them to pay attention and 5 little kids all started telling me about putting my hand up in the air, taking away recess points, tacks in shoes, the windchime, AND a bell. No joke. I was FLABBERGASTED. I just watched unable to concentrate on even one of the students. They continued on completely unaware that I was silently screaming "WHAT THE HELL" and cursing myself out on the inside. One of thestudent is trying to explain to me the windchime. As she picks it up, another girl grabs it and FREAKS OUT.

She snatches it in both of her paws and starts yelling 'NO ONE BUT THE TEACHER IS SUPPOSED TO USE THIS AND DON'T YOU TAKE IT FROM ME THATS NOT FAIR AND I WAS JUST TRYING TO TELL HER HOW TO DO IT AND YOU TOOK IT FROM ME AND I HATE THIS STUPID BELL I JUST HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT!!!!!!!!!!!" All while stamping her feet and turning a violent color of maroonish purple. I, honestly, was so stunned I couldn't react correctly. I not so intelligently, started laughing, and said, "woah woah woah, what WAS that?!Please put that down!" The girl set it down, crossed her arms and sat down. Completely over it and calm. I still don't comprehend what exactly that was about.

We were only supposed to have a bathroom break. How did things get so out of control? I'd only been there for 5 minutes! The 5 minutes of yelling and screaming took us right into story time in the reading room. It took me another 8 minutes to actually get all 32 students lined up at the door and quiet. I mean, it was just chaos. We of course were late to the reading room and we shared the room with another class. The other teacher looked at my sympathetically and goes "we're certainly having "a day" today". Good news.

We leave the reading room and stop at the bathroom since they missed the opportunity on our first go. There must be some kind of art involved taking 4th graders on a potty break. The kids were ALL OVER the place. If they weren't in the potty they were supposed to be against the wall. No one would stay on the wall. Instead they were pulling out way too many paper towels, throwing hand sanitizer and water at each other, trying to do handstands against the wall, or there were 3 or 4 students trying to tell me 3 or 4 different stories at the same time. Really, I think it was just a clever way to distract me while the others got themselves into water fights. The room mom even comes from the classroom and says, "uh, I can hear you guys from down the hall!" Information I don't really need as it is more than obvious I am NOT in control. Another frustrated 8 or so minutes and I finally wrangle them all up and THANKFULLY take them to art for an hour.

I go back to the room and sit on my stool and put my face in my hands shaking my head. The room mom starts LAUGHING! I look up and plaster an annoyed smile on my face. We start conversation. Now, subbing can be difficult but it is nothing compared to the extra help I have come across in certain rooms. It doesn't matter what school because all of them that I have come across are the same. They all have information on what students are awful, what they think is wrong with the school system, what teachers do wrong, what administrator has his/her head so far up their own ass they don't pay attention to the rest of the school, and it just goes on and on. This room mother was not an exception. She proceeded to tell me what she thinks the teacher does wrong and what procedures she does not agree with all while glorifying her own child. She also indulges in a little condition I call verbal diarrhea. I suffer from this condition but I can keep it in check when it counts. Room mom on the other hand. She let it all hang out. She proceeds to tell me how she has to take zanax four times a day! She also tells me how it makes her tired and a little loopy and a bit hard to stay awake when she's sitting in on classes. I'm listening in disbelief while mentally telling myself to be sure that I keep my face set in an understanding agreeable expression. Really, though, I mean COME ON! What was she thinking? Why are you even there!? Go home! I am a future teacher who is not even in a school yet and you first of all are giving me waaay too much personal information and bad mouthing the school system and seasoned teachers. The very ones her children are enrolled in and I am hoping to be employed by. Seriously? Are you trying to talk me out of becoming a teacher? Last time I checked I didn't choose this profession expecting a classroom full of type A, do-gooder students. I guess I just like a challenge.

Anyway, art is over and the students came back. As Heidi Klum would say, we had a little chat. I reprimanded them on the bad behavior previously and then said I was hoping for a turn around in behavior for the second half of the afternoon. I also created the "Ms. V signal". I put two fingers up in the air in the shape of a V and I tell them that it is like my bat signal and they are to be quiet immediately whenever they see it and wait for furthur instruction. It worked amazingly well. The rest of the afternoon was instruction time and went really smoothly. No problems at all. I had to throw up the V signal a few times but other than that it was good. Then the end of the day came.

Ten minutes left in the day and the students decided to get all crazy again. Fifteen of them were attempting to tell me how the end of the day procedures go and the rest are flying all around getting book bags and tennis shoes out of the cupboards. I put up the Ms. V signal but they no longer cared. I was desperately trying to get their attention but they pretty much ignored me and the two class brown nosers who were trying to help me. The first bell rang and half the class just took off. Where to? I have NO idea. If you have seen the movie Kindergarten Cop when Arnold goes into the Kindergarten room for the first time and the kids are EVERYWHERE. My room was a good reenactment of that. Literally. It was horrible. The second bell rings and the rest of the students fly out of the room one by one. I'm left standing there red-faced, frustrated, in an eerie silence especially after all the chaos and noise that was previously in the room. I'm thinking, okay, that clearly did not go well but I did learn something. I learned that 34 bucks for that hell I was just in is NOT worth it.

I go to pick up my stuff only to find my cute red teacher bag all over the floor. I scoop things back up and am prepared to tell my bff all about it when I cannot locate my phone. Correction, my blackberry that stores all of my information including months and months of emails, text messages, and pictures. I am in a PANIC. I re-dump out my bag, crawl around on the floor, look in, under, around, the desk I was sitting and I look in the trash, the blackboard, the teachers desk, everywhere. I can't find it. I walk out in the hall where I can hear other teachers talking and literally blinking back tears ask them if they think a 4th grader is capable of stealing a blackberry. Immediately they all are like "OH YEA" and tell me to go talk to the principal. We search for it and I even looked in all of the students desks but it's nowhere to be found. I'm pretty much frantic, pissed off, and mostly upset. It was such an exasperating day. The thought of going home and telling my parents my blackberry was gone was almost as bad as the phone being gone.

Luckily, the parental unit was not home when I got home. I paced the house trying to think what to do and anticipate how much I am going to be inconvenienced. I did intelligently call my phone repeatidly before suspending the service so my number would show up a bunch of times. I'm still fuming when house phone rings. I check the caller I.D. and since I didn't recognize the number I didn't answer. Then I thought about it for awhile and realized that the number was attached to the same last name as the room mom! I called it back, holding my breath, and sure enough it was the room mother and even more to my relief, her daughter had my blackberry. While I was on the phone with her getting directions she puts me on hold to CHEW out her daughter in language I would never use in front of a 10 year old. My relief of knowing where my phone completely subsided for guilt over getting that girl in trouble. As soon as my phone was back in my possession I checked it to see how much she had gone through. It was obvious my texts had been scrolled through but only to the point passed a long text conversation about the season premiere of Grey's Anatomy the previous night. Then I open my email. I'm doing this all while the room mom is telling me that her daugher doesn't know how to do anything on a cell phone like text or send emails or probably even to call soemone. Naive. Naive. Naive.

In my inbox is a sent email to Dicks Sporting Goods. Soemone had replied to an automatically generated email about upcoming sales and discounts. The email said "Go Suck on." At first I don't get it but then I looked at it again and right after that line it says who the email is sent to, so together it says, Go Suck on... [Dicks] Sporting Goods. Creative you little 4th Grader. Creative.