#2: Journal Notes on Subbing Assignment for 30 October 2007

In my small part of the world, subbing has been outsourced to a company that represents much of Michigan. The advantage is that one can accept computer-listed assignments days, even weeks, ahead of time instead of having to wait for 5am telephone calls seeking replacements for last minute teacher absences.

I like this very much. As a nightowl, the very idea of a 5am call is brutal. If I can accept an assignment a day or two ahead of time, I can ease into it gently. I can pack my lunch the night before, drink "sleepytime tea," and turn in at an unseemly but necessarily early hour.

My first assignment under this new system (which in my area went into effect July 2007) sent me to a large, mostly black highschool on October 30, 2007. It was still dark when I tried to find the school. There are studies proving that teenagers need more sleep than they're getting and should actually start their school days around 10am. Such data is unknown in most American schools. The youngsters are expected around 7-7:30am.

At that hour, it's too dark to see street signs so I usually get lost and arrive late. That day was no exception and I was about five minutes late. The students were lined up in the cold and I couldn't find an unlocked door to get inside. Another teacher finally helped me out. Once inside, what struck me was a hallway filled with long, wild, dense Halloween streamers of orange and black crape paper. It was very rich and magical. I had never seen anything like it. I felt like an awed child walking into that hallway. Surely, this was a place where children's creativity would be nurtured.

Reality hit when I reached the school office. I was one of several subs that day and the office people didn't know what to do with us. The computers were down and there was no way to figure out where we were supposed to go. I was initially sent to a French classroom. But, as I told them, I couldn't teach French. Latin, yes, some German and Spanish, but not French. I was told it didn't matter -- they didn't have a regular French teacher anyway -- just endless subs. I was settling in when a young, handsome, cheerful fellow arrived and said he was replacing me and I should go back to the office. Turns out he knew some French. I was greatly relieved.

I made my way back through the halls, including the magical forest of Halloween streamers, and returned to the office. Three subs were now ahead of me: a gentle, middle-aged black man with a heavy African accent who had subbed there before -- after 30 minutes he was sent to a classroom on the second floor. An older black woman was soon sent to yet another classroom. But another black woman and I sat waiting for an hour. She was very young -- early 20's -- and she got a call on her cell phone asking if she was available to accept a last minute assignment at another school where a friend of hers was in charge.

She got up and told the office staff that she had another job if they didn't know where to send her. Then we again sat together, waiting. She told me that when she was in highschool, she and her classmates were truly awful to subs, so she could understand where kids were coming from when they saw a sub. But she let them know they couldn't fool her. That's how she got control, she said. I was amazed. I had gone to a Catholic highschool in the early to mid 1950's and can't honestly remember ever having a sub. If a nun were ill, another nun took her place. I couldn't imagine being rotten to a sub.

An hour passed as we talked, sharing experiences, often laughing. Finally she was told that it would be ok if she took the other assignment. She did, wished me well, and left immediately. It was 9am by then. Soon afterwards I was informed that I should drive to the other end of town to help proctor a Michigan Merit Exam. Seniors from this same school had already been bused there an hour earlier.

It was daylight but I still got lost again. Finally I found the abandoned school that now serves as an exam site. I was quietly introduced to the teacher in charge of one of many rooms full of seniors from the school I had left. I asked how I could help her. We agreed that I should walk up and down the aisles but we didn't want to make the students nervous so I was careful not to pace too much. The room was very cold and many students were shivering. The heating system was down, we were told. I felt very sorry for the kids -- exams are always stressful and being cold didn't help much.

Those kids did their best although I have to say that maybe 30% of them just gave up, pulled their hoodies up over their heads like little turtles, and fell asleep at their desks. I tried to awaken a few but their teacher, who, as I've mentioned, was in charge of our room (there were many students in other rooms that day), regretfully whispered to me that we weren't supposed to talk to them or help them in any way. I liked her -- we both knew this test was a crock, but there was nothing we could do about it. And when a state examiner came to our room later that morning, we both did what was expected and reluctantly walked up and down every few minutes.

I was struck by how hunched over most of the kids were. Did they have vision problems? Had anyone checked? Didn't they know that being hunched over would interfere with the supply of oxygen getting to their brains? I asked if I could make an annoucement reminding them to breathe in deeply but I was told that communicating with them was forbidden. Later, when I was assigned to walk some of the girls to the bathroom, I'd whisper, "Don't forget to breathe." But I don't think it helped much. These tests are sheer madness. This isn't education. It's "obedience training" and it isn't working.

Later, the teacher (who teaches English, by the way, and loves medieval literature) told me that these seniors had initially taken this Merit Exam the year before as juniors. Out of a class of some 200, only five had passed! All the rest were failures and were now repeating the test.

Only five had passed?!!!! I was shocked. Either something was horribly wrong with that test or else the school is in dreadful trouble. I found it hard to believe. The numbers made no sense to me. This is Bush's "No Child Left Behind" at its worst.

I have since mentioned this incident to others around here and have found that very few share my sense of shock. They aren't surprised at all -- they tell me that such schools simply pass these kids along and hope for the best. When too many fail, the government punishes such schools by imposing stricter standards (but without additional funding to achieve such standards).

Punishes the schools? This is crazy. These are impoverished schools in disintegrating neighborhoods. We need to give them more money and improve the employment opportunities for their parents. Punitive measures are absurd. We all know the statistics. These beautiful kids will wind up as fodder in rich white men's wars. Or else they'll be put in rich white men's prisons. This is unacceptable. But what on earth are we to do?

I ended that day in a deep depression. Everything is stacked against these kids. What is wrong with us that we're allowing this? We have put men on the moon. Why are we letting these exhausted children, turtle-ing in their thin hoodies, fall through the cracks?