Disposible Me

I find it frustrating when you go into the classroom in the morning and a note says: "Good Morning Supply".

Especially when the teacher whom you are in for knows you are the one who will be there.

I really shouldn't complain. At least there WAS a note and a plan. It has happened several times before that I have arrived in the morning to find one line written for the entire day. I've also had the delightful experience of having to call the teacher upon arrival who proceeds to rattle off a plan over the phone. Then you must search  through their classroom and belonging in a panic for the things that you need for the day. The readings, the books, or the movie are always in some obscure locale that you must root through and hope that you can find it before the class starts. I guess being an anonymous, nameless "supply" is better than that.

I think I get my nose out of joint because I believe that I should be further along in this game. I'm 35. I have three university degrees and a college diploma and I am a stinking substitute teacher. I feel disposible and quite frankly, I am. There are hundreds of substitute teachers in this area. I am on every list possible and I get few calls. I've gone to schools, introduced myself, distributed my resume etc, etc, etc.... I just don't know the right people.

In the past, I have been high up on a few school's lists. It's funny how, just when you've learned many of the students names and start to think "Excellent, I'm one of their main substitiutes. I just may get my bills caught up", they stop calling. Someone else has come along and taken your place. Then there you are, scrounging for work again.

Like I said: Disposible. I'm a substitute. I'm there when you need me and forgotten when you don't.