The Pleasure of Reading to Children

My greatest pleasure, when substituting for the younger grades, is reading to the class.  I was lucky enough to enjoy this privilege when my own children were in grade school.  My children would choose their favorite stories for me to read to the class, usually Dr. Seuss or Bill Peet books.  Other times, they wanted me to read one of my works-in-progress, a new children’s adventure short story.  For those, I’d bring in visuals, magazine photos of bats or caves, or family camping photos of locations we’d visited.  Sometimes my son or daughter would draw pictures to go along with my children’s stories.

            Whenever we have extra time in class or if the teacher says that the substitute can either read a story to the class or allow free play time, I choose to read to the students.  And I don’t just read.  I sing, as in the poetry of the words of the story.  In the youngest stories there is usually a cadence, a flow that a reader can capture for the children.  Dr Seuss and Bill Peet (and many other authors) excel at having a rhythm to their story words.

            Then there are the possibilities in the stories.  What happens next?  Always give the children a chance to think about what could happen next and what it would mean to the protagonist [main character] of the story.  This works on students’ critical thinking skills.   

            Reading a good story to students can relieve tension in the classroom, both the teacher’s and the students’.  After a session of structured teaching, reading can allow teachers and students the chance to relax and ready themselves for the next subject. 

If you’re ever lost for something to do when substituting, or if the students are becoming rambunctious while you struggle with lesson plans, pluck a book from the classroom bookshelves and bring the students to the carpet.  Reading gives both children and adults a chance to imagine the possibilities.                  

The Gift of Thanks

The joy of substituting, every once in a while, you reach someone and help them to understand concepts in review when the teacher leaves work. 

High school geometry.  Multi-step word problems.  My two nemeses.  However, once I stopped pacing the teachers’ lounge grumbling about word problems and no answer key I looked at the pile of worksheets.  Remodeling a home.  Hm, my husband and I have done this several times.  First problem, a fence around the home.  Perimeter.  I can visualize this.  A floor plan of the home with the dimensions.  A need for new floor tile.  Area.  I can do this. 

Once I figure it out, I can help others.  Diagrams.  Figures.  I didn’t want to just give the students the answers.  I wanted to help them see how we get each answer and why we do the steps we do.  Visuals.  Understanding that the fence is not right up against the home but so many feet away from the home, either side, front and back.  And, of course, the floor space in particular rooms, hallways, or entranceways was not rectangular or square.  It had narrow spots, fireplaces, appliances. 

I wanted the students to show all the work so that the teacher could see how we got our answers and thereby the students could see the thinking that goes behind the answers.   

After class, while I was still knee deep in organizing and labeling worksheets, the lovely Bangladesh girl from class came up to my desk. 

“Um,” she said softly, “I want to…thank you…for helping me in geometry class.”  A smile of understanding lit her face.  It glowed. 

I smiled back.  “You’re welcome.”  Helping others understand.  Isn’t that what teaching is all about?    

All the Classroom’s a Stage: Third Grade Thespians

Children are natural born actors.  Think about it.  Aren’t children always looking for an audience?  A two-year-old follows you around to give her rendition of “tantrum” or a nine-year-old offers his soliloquy on “the importance of being a whiney-pants.”  Children practice acting daily so that when they finally reach elementary school, they are more or less professionals.  Professionals get paid, Victoria Marie, you might say.  But yes.  These elementary school actors are paid.  Think barter system here. 

            The melodramatics of Collin; he is forever falling on the floor.  No one is around him.  Nothing is on the floor; no bookbags, pencils, papers, or workbooks.  If I miss my cue—the overly loud thump is my cue, but he usually waits for me to be looking at him—he switches pantomime.  Now he holds his head all the time, when he’s not thumping it on the desk to get my attention, of course.  As for payment for these particular performances, he simply wishes to miss math to be able to sit in the nurse’s office with ice on his…whatever he decides hurts by the time he walks [perfectly well, I might add] down the hallway to the nurse’s office. 

Yes, the thespians are usually boys in elementary school.  While the boys prefer stunt work without dialogue, you’ll find the girls in award-winning supporting roles—with plenty of dialogue.  Girls have an uncanny knack for playing the assistant—especially when you don’t need an assistant.  Angelina is cute as a kitten, but she was always around my hips today.  Every time I glanced at her chair, it was vacant.    

What dialogue do female assistants use?  Why a running commentary of what everyone else is doing in the classroom.  And I mean everyone!

“Johnny ripped a little piece off Susie’s worksheet and crumpled it and then when he walked by Tommy, he shoved it down Tommy’s shirt,” the actress chatters on.  “And then Kyle started picking at his big dragon eraser and he’s making a mess all over the floor and …”

Female thespians look for verbal appreciation for payment.  A “thank you” can go a long way in helping a young actress feel appreciated, although it does absolutely nothing to help her stay in her seat and complete the class work.

Now don’t forget.  Actors desire more than one person in their audience, if they can help it.  A classroom full of giggles helps build confidence—but does nothing for furthering the lesson plan the poor substitute is trying desperately to decipher. 

For me, well I perform before a captive audience.  Not only do I need to read the audience instantly, I also need to adlib intelligence in all subjects.  I guess there’s a bit of thespian in us all. 

The Need for a Fourth Grade Math Tutor

From competence to incompetence.  The difference a substitute day can make.

Like I said before, I always try to demonstrate to students on the board how to do the mathematical steps, but when the steps are changed—and no one tells me—then I’m the one who needs the help.  I don’t know.  I could do long division in the old days, but now?  With the “Everyday Math” methods, I need someone to demonstrate to ME how to divide like a fourth grader. 

I wrote on the board 879 divided by 37 in the standard division bar method and proceeded to explain to the class how 37 can’t go into 8, but it can go into 87. 

“Now,” I said, “how many times can…”

A young lady started waving both hands in the air.  I thought she had a medical emergency.  It ended up that I was the emergency.

“That’s not how Mrs. Jones does it.”  She told me.

“Okay,” I told Miss Smarty Pants, offering her the black marker [no chalkboards anymore, remember?].  “Then show me how Mrs. Jones does long division.”             

My eyes started to dry out as I tried to decipher the drawings on the board.  Hieroglyphics were easier to understand.  

“What’s this right hand line down the side of the division problem?”  I asked Miss Pants.

“That’s so you can divide into the whole number,” she told me.

“But I thought that’s what we were doing with the standard, curved division symbol.”

She just rolled her eyes and began writing round numbers down the outside of the right hand line.

“Um,” I tried to regain the upper hand in the class as snickers rang out when the students watched my brow become one big furrow.

“Why are you estimating?”  I asked.  “Don’t we want the correct answer?”

“Estimating’s easier,” Miss Pants assured me as she rewrote the problem as 40 into 800 and then estimated the answer as 20.

 “Easier for whom?”  I desperately needed a few Tylenol.  I watched as she next took 40 into 80 and then added up figures outside another vertical line.  The board was covered in mathematical computation.

I am a firm believer that the more steps there are in a problem, the more chance for error.  But I certainly couldn't tell Miss Pants that.  The substitute teacher had now become the student. 

Grammar Geek Turns Algebra Nut

I’ve found that I love demonstrating those long algebra problems on the board for the students when I substitute for math classes.  You know the problems.  They go all the way across the page.  Whether combining like terms, “please excusing my dear Aunt Sally,” or solving for x, I could do them all day long.  Upper elementary school to high school.  It’s the only part of algebra I’ve retained from college.

            I feel so competent when I know more than [or at least the same as] the students.  Being visual myself, I find the best way to instruct in math class is showing each step to the students and answering any questions they might have.  Because I know the processes, I can pull the problem apart. And I remember the rules.

            I recall taking a basic skills algebra class in college to prepare myself for college level math.  I had found it interesting that my younger fellow students all had an “Aunt Sally.”

            “It’s such an old-fashioned name,” I told the professor when I approached her with my own question.

            The professor smiled.  “No, Victoria,” she said.  “It’s a metonym, a way to remember the algebra steps.  Parentheses, exponents, multiplication/division, addition/subtraction:  Please excuse my dear Aunt Sally.”

            “Interesting.”  I blushed.  I had merely remembered the steps.  When my son finally entered upper elementary school, he learned P.E.M.D.A.S.  Same processes.

            Solving for x builds on the simplifying process to answer the equation.  The thing to remember when solving equations is to do the same mathematical processes to each side of the equal sign.  The object is to get the variable on one side and a number, the answer, on the other side of the equal sign.  To separate a variable from numbers, you perform the opposite mathematical process; i.e., subtraction when it is addition, division when it is multiplication. 

            Sorry.  I do like teaching something I know.  Of course, I probably wouldn’t give up my grammar geek status for algebra.  But it is a fun process, once you get the hang of it.

Cluttered Desks, A Substitute’s Nightmare

               Substitutes don’t have time to mine the teacher’s desk for classwork or the correct textbooks to use for the lesson plan at hand.  Students need to be on task, and the substitute needs to appear competent.  If not, the efficient system of education breaks down.  Students think it is a “free” day, and the substitute feels ineffectual.  

Many times—especially in the primary grades—the series books of Reading, Grammar, and Spelling all look the same with no distinguishing titles written on the front cover, just glorious colorful images.  The books all seem closely related in activities and structure.  Grammar and Spelling exercises are laid out in a story format, and the Reading books have their own set of vocabulary and context clues set up in sentences.      

I’ve unearthed the correct textbook on a table by the whiteboard after combing a cluttered desk for fifteen minutes—fifteen long, noisy minutes as students who have nothing to do chatter along and the time allotted for that subject rushes by. 

As I have explained before, it can be dangerous—time wise—to ask elementary school students which or where books or papers are in the classroom because; a. they don’t know, or b. they need 45 minutes to explain Mrs. Jones’ system of organization.  And then you can’t get them to stop midway into the explanation because the student will cry or say you are rude for interrupting or that they haven’t gotten to the important part yet.

            It can be equally dangerous—work wise—to ask the high school students.  They also might not know, but they would rather have a free period than do classwork more often than not. 

            How do you get around this problem?  Try to arrive extra early, before any duties begin, and ask grade level or same subject matter teachers if they know where something in the lesson plan is or where the teacher left off working the day before or what an acronym in the lesson plan means.  If you don’t have time before class begins, in high school look for a student you know to be trustworthy to ask questions pertaining to where the teacher left off or routine classroom procedure.  Only as a last resort, go with a majority of the students to clarify lesson plans.  I still believe you should refrain from asking the elementary school students unless absolutely necessary. 

Many times the teacher does not plan on being out the next day so things are not organized on his or her desk.  It’s like my husband and his garage.  HE knows where everything is [most times], but I think a tornado hit the inside of our garage. 

Go Play Outside

A typical mother statement. Whenever the weather was fine--or just not raining--my mother sent us outside to play. And we were happy. At my house, when it is not raining, I send my children outside to get some fresh air. I think children of all ages like to be outside.

New Jersey has experienced one of the wettest summers in years. Every time I turned around, it was raining. And when it wasn't raining, the humidity made it feel like you were underwater anyway. So when I was asked to substitute for high school senior physical education classes, and the rain had finally ended, and the children were studying tennis, I was thrilled. I love tennis. Once again, I assume everyone loves tennis. But I should have remembered. I am working with a different animal here. Teenagers...teenagers who don't like gym class.

When I came into the gym all excited, a ball cap on my head, my sunglasses on, and announced to the class that we would be going outside to play tennis, you would have thought I had asked them to run a marathon on broken bottles--barefoot!

Aw, it's too hot out!"

"It's September," I remind them.

"I have to stay out of the sun!"

"Nice tan for someone who needs to refrain from sunshine," I say.

"My feet get too hot."

"Wear thick socks to soak up the moisture," I tell him.

"I don't want my makeup to run...my hair to flop...my nails to break."

"Life is tough," I tell the girls.

Like I say in every class I substitute for in high school. You will not like everything your boss asks you to do, but if it is part of the job description, then you need to do it--without complaint. This is the same with college courses. You won't enjoy every task the professor asks you to do, yes there will be a lot of work involved, and no, you may not like every group member for a specific project. So get used to it now.

Well, we did go out. Yes, they still whined, but it wasn't that it was too hot or too much sun. These teens should have been playing baseball. Every time they hit the tennis ball, it was a homerun! Over the high fence into the parking lot, over the fence, past the driveway, and into the self-storage area, over the fence, through the bushes, and onto the front lawn of the school. We retrieved some of the balls. We lost others. Let's just say that by next class, I needed more tennis balls. At least they were exercising and participating, which are most of my substitute duties in physical education class. Now if I could just teach them how to keep the ball in their particular court, I'd have it made!