After several failed interviews recently, I am resorting to my back-up plan, which is to be a supply teacher.
Supply teaching is a funny old game. I am a qualified teacher, and as such, I have all the paperwork and qualifications to trot off to schools and deliver lessons. Scary – but fun.
It’s also a great opportunity to contrast and compare different schools.
Of course, kids are the same the world over, by and large. They are mostly sociable, and keen to please. They usually accept a new adult in the front of the classroom, and view me with a kind of fascination; they peer intently at my attire, sussing me out as I appear before them and are quick to ask me what my name is, when I forget to introduce myself.
When supply teaching, one has to be a Jack of all trades – and master of none. Which suits me, actually. I have never specialised in any one thing but am rather good at winging it- which is really the only skill required in this post.
In recent months, I have been a P.E teacher, a Maths teacher and a Religious Studies teacher. I have organised successful (if not altogether official) games of rounders and that all-time favourite – Stuck in the Mud. I’ve become an expert in seeking out the “lively” pupils in an instant, and the ones that are most likely to help me, if I find myself in need of an honest answer to a question. (“Is Little Johnny over there usually allowed to lie under the table like that, writhing?”) I’ve been a storyteller, a mentor and a nag.
Supply teaching is never dull. In addition to boys under tables, I’ve had boys walking on tables whilst gesticulating wildly in a threatening manner. I’ve narrowly avoided a full-on fight between two small, angry men of ten, and missile damage on a brand new interactive whiteboard (gotta love boys).* I’ve negotiated fifty three thousand requests to go to the toilet, whilst trying to remember if I have been consistent in my responses, and tidied umpteen classrooms, marvelling at the number of glue sticks that have no lids as I go.
Yes, supply teaching suits me. But it also has its down sides. I was encouraged to hear last week that I had some repeat bookings – the Holy Grail in this game. Affirmation of a job well done, putting insecurities to bed. Five sessions of P.E on a Tuesday afternoon in the calendar. So, on Friday, thinking it won’t do to continue to carry out P.E lessons in my four-inch heels and black trousers, trotting precariously after speeding children, I invested in some “leisure wear”.
I had hoped Sports Direct might have had a sale rail, from where I may have been able to pick up a nice Adidas two-piece for under twenty quid. But no. I have instead come away with what can only be described as one up from a shell suit – shiny material, zip-up jacket, shapeless trousers. Just the two stripes. That’ll do, I thought. It’s very P.E teachery. It’s actually alright.
Little Seymour Number One surveyed my purchase later that day. She made a noise that I didn’t understand – did she like it or no? Then she proceeded to tell me that it was like something Sue from Glee might wear. And sniggered.
I don’t think she liked it.
After googling Sue from Glee, I was jealous to note that her outfit was rather like mine, but hers was, in fact, made by Adidas.
I am Sue from Glee’s poor relation.
Content in the knowledge that I had several bookings stacked up, I relaxed into my new role; this could work, I thought… only to have three of the five slots cancelled this morning, out of the blue… bugger.
I was reminded that job security is not something supply teaching offers. And so, I am once again wracking my brains to work out what else I can do – realistically, to earn a crust. I’m currently considering bank robbery. With friends.
(You know who you are.)
I bet Sue from Glee didn’t have these problems.
(Jane Lynch as Sue From Glee, from a Channel 4 photo)
*No gender stereotypes intended, but…
0 Comments