Yes It Is, It’s True: A couple of sunny subbing stories

Theresa Fulk, director of instruction at Wayland Union schools, posted on Facebook today a challenge to all “friends” to tell a positive story about something positive that happened today.

It’s rare when I post anything perky and positive, but out of respect for Ms. Fulk, I will counter all my nattering nabob of negativism about personal substitute teaching experiences with two marvelous incidents that will live with me until I draw my last gasp of air.

I wrote two columns earlier on this site about how much I hated going into schools filled with students who don’t respect the sub, colleagues who look down on the sub as a “loser” and administrators who spend a lot of time fault finding. Yet two true stories stand out for me as islands in a sea of awful incidents.

One occurred way back in 1971, less than a year after I graduated from Grand Valley State University. I was unable to land a history teaching job full time, so I was a sub during the daytime and a security guard at night for two years.

Then I changed gears and became a community journalist under the watchful eyes of Irvin P. Helmey.

I agreed to sub at Caledonia Middle School one spring day and the teacher’s directives somehow couldn’t be found. I got lucky in perusing the textbook, which included a chapter from J.R. Tolkhein’s “The Hobbit,” a chapter titled “Riddles in the Dark.” I was astonished it was there.

For each class that day, I read the story, which was about Bilbo Baggins meeting up with the much-despised Gollum in a dreary cave. Somehow the two attempt to outsmart one another by having them guess the answer to riddlles.

To my surprise and delight, the kids enthusiastically tried to answer each of the riddles as I read them. Many in the class took part in guessing and virtually no students were distracted or bored. The process repeated itself for all the classes that day.

What really warmed my heart was when the bell rang for the next class and a huge number of students swarmed around me to ask once again for the name of the book and its author, and where they could get a copy. I had reached education nirvana and told myself this is what it’s all about.

I wrote a summary of the day’s activities to the regular teacher, apologizing for losing the instructions for the day, but telling her as well that the kids were terrific, and really this is the way education should be. I never received a response, but I don’t think she would have been able to reach me anyway.

The second story occurred several years ago when I subbed at Byron Center High School. As I was walking down the hall to class, a young lady accosted me with a huge hug and a million thank yous. I was bewildered because I didn’t know what she was talking about.

She explained that she hated history and never received any grade above a C until she took the second trimester exam and earned an A. She blamed me for her good fortune.

I subbed for a couple of days in history at Byron Center and noticed the world history classes were nearing their exam on World War I. Rather than have the kids read the textbook and do workbook questions, I elected to give a passionate lecture on the causes of World War I, its players, what led up to it and why it was called (erroneously) “The War to End All Wars.”

I do remember almost being in a trance presenting the lecture. I have long held that teaching history actually is all about telling the story.

Apparently this young lady listened when I likened the combatants to gangs in the cities, forming alliances to fight against other gangs (countries).

The fact that this young lady listened well enough to score an A certainly flattered me, but I also realized she had the epiphany that taught her she could do great things academically if she applied herself.

I walked away from the high school that day with the realization that sometimes, even being a bottom-feeder sub could have its rewards.

And to this day, I don’t know the young lady’s name.