My Back To School Edition!

Now that school is back in session, I thought about writing about some of my more memorable teachers from long ago.

But then, I decided to do something a little different and write about the unsung heroes from school. No...not the lunchroom ladies, not the bus drivers, and not the principals.

I'm talking about (drum roll, please!) substitute teachers!

I went through the public school system from 1966 - 1978 and things were a little different back then. I think substitute teachers in 2009 are actually expected to teach. But back then, they were little more than glorified baby sitters.

Usually, substitutes were some kid's mom that was subbing solely for the extra $10 or $15 per day (if that much) that subbing paid.

For the most part, if you had a sub, she had already been in touch with the teacher and you knew the bulk of the class assignments were going to be reading a chapter or two from a text book on a given subject (math, english, etc.) and answer a few questions at the end of the chapter.

But let's face it, reading all day makes Jack (and Jill) quite ill little boys and girls and they start looking for ways to amuse themselves and each other. And it's all how the substitutes handled that sort of thing that makes them a member of an elite little club. I call it:

"The Substitute Teacher Hall of Fame".

1. Mrs. Hatfield - Mrs. Hatfield began her teaching career shortly after Noah landed his ark on Mount Ararat and I think she had retired the same year that Truman was elected President. I'll say this...that woman was one hateful, old bitty. If I had a nickel for every time she banged that Bolo paddle down on the desk and hollered out "HUSH UP", I'd be rich. She was one sub you didn't mess with.

Apparently Donnie N. didn't get that memo. One day as we were returning from lunch, she told us to get a book out and start reading chapter whatever. Well, Donnie decided he'd had enough reading for the day and said we needed to practice our singing. He then proceeded to sing one of the songs from our music books.

Mrs. Hatfield either did not appreciate music, or just didn't appreciate Donnie's interpretation of "Oh, Susanna!". She immediately grabbed her Bolo paddle, slammed it down on the desk and hollered "HUSH UP!" Donnie just ignored her and continued singing.

Mrs. Hatfield slammed the paddle down again and hollered "HUSH UP!". At this point, everyone in the classroom could tell she meant business....everyone except Donnie. He just kept right on singing "Oh, Susanna!"

Well, Mrs. Hatfield decided she had enough. Here's where Mrs. Hatfield was "old school." Most teachers at that time would simply remove the kid from the classroom and open up a can of whoop a$$ on them out in the hall. Not Mrs. Hatfield!

She walked right over to Donnie's desk, yanked him out of it, threw him across her arm and proceeded to open up a can of whoop a$$ in the classroom in front of everyone. (Keep in mind this woman was older than dirt.) She put him down and walked back up to her desk.

We were all stunned! Subs usually just yelled at you to shut up and when they got tired of yelling, they selected some goody two shoes to run down to the principal's office and have HIM come down and make us behave. This was the first sub any of us had ever encountered that actually took matters into her own hands.

Donnie sat back down and immediately began squalling; partly out of pain, but mostly (I'm guessing) out of sheer humiliation and embarrassment. Mrs. Hatfield immediately picked up that Bolo paddle, slammed it down on her desk and hollered "HUSH UP!" She then pointed at Donnie and said "You shut that cryin' up before I give you something to REALLY cry about." Donnie immediately hushed up.

Mrs. Hatfield was one sub that you didn't want to mess with and that is why she made my Hall of Fame.

Mrs. Boone - Mrs. Boone was what we referred to as a marshmallow. This is, you could say anything, do anything, tell her anything and she just said ok.

This was a typical day with Mrs. Boone as the sub: The class straggles in one by one. The final bell rings and everyone begins to talk. Mrs. Boone tells everyone to shut up so she can tell us what our "real" teacher wanted us to do.

We continue to talk; Mrs. Boone continues to try to get us to shut up. This goes on for about 10 or 15 minutes. Finally, everyone has caught up with everyone else and the class has somewhat settled down.

Mrs. Boone announces what our class assignment is and asks if we have any questions. Someone raises their hand. She looks at him and says "What's your question?"

He asks "Are you related to Daniel Boone?" Class erupts in laughter even though she is asked this question each time she subs. She says no. Another hand is raised. She acknowledges the questioner. "Are you related to Pat Boone?" Class laughs again. She says no. Yet another hand is raised. She acknowledges the questioner. "Are you related to Ba?" Teacher asks "Ba who?" "Ba boone!" comes the reply along with gales of laughter. By this time, Mrs. Boone has had enough and tells us to get busy.

It was about this time that some one decides that it would be fun to play the "I lost my contact lens...no body move!" game. So someone shouts out that phrase and immediately everyone hits the deck to begin "helping" to find the lost contact lens.

The problem was that usually the person that shouted out the phrase not only did not wear contacts, but didn't even wear glasses...but Mrs. Boone didn't know that.

Someone would holler out "I found it!" Then someone would hit their arm which resulted in the phony contact lens being "lost" again. This usually went on for the remainder of the hour. We would move onto our next class and the next group of students would move in....and the whole thing would start all over again.

Mrs. Boone is in my Hall of Fame because for as much grief as she received, she kept coming back for more.

Mrs. Flannagan - Mrs. Flannagan was the only sub I ever encountered that actually attempted to teach. She was completely no nonsense.

If the teacher left a note for us to read a chapter and answer the questions at the end of the chapter, then you'd better go ahead and read that chapter. If you looked up or leaned back to talk to your neighbor, she'd look up and say "Oh, I guess you've finished. Read question number one and tell us what the answer is."

When you couldn't answer, she'd say "Well, then I suggest you get busy and finish the assignment because we're going to go over it in 10 minutes and I'm going to be taking up the papers to turn in." This was her way of giving us a veiled threat to show our regular teacher who behaved and who didn't.

Rather than just having us read for the entire length of the class, she'd set a time limit. When time was up, she would then have us close the books and she would ask us questions. If we missed any, she suggested that we take the book home that night and re-read the chapter.

If she "strongly suggested" that we take the book home, it meant one of two things. Our teacher was coming back the following day and giving us a pop quiz or Mrs. Flannagan was returning the following day and going over the material again, giving us a test and turning it in to the teacher.

I put Mrs. Flannagan in the Hall of Fame because she actually made the effort to teach -and- she actually had a knack for making the material interesting.

Mrs. Lee - Mrs. Lee was in a class by herself. Poor Mrs. Lee was all of four feet tall. Unfortunately, the light switch in most of the junior high classrooms were on the wall at about the eight foot mark. To turn the lights on and off, most of the female teachers had to stand on tip toe to reach them.

Poor Mrs. Lee couldn't reach the lights even if she stood on tip toe. The reason I know this was because when Mrs. Lee subbed, it was the duty of the first student that entered the classroom to turn out the lights. One by one, we would all file in to the dark classroom.

Mrs. Lee would ask someone to turn on the lights. They would "pretend" they couldn't reach it. It was an unwritten rule that anyone that turned on the lights would be branded a "suck up" and no one would have anything to do with you for a while. So, when Mrs. Lee realized that no one was going to turn on the lights, she would go ahead and give us our reading assignment and we would sit there in the dark.

She would look around the classroom and see that no one was reading. She'd tell us that we'd better get busy and finish the assignment and some smart a$$ would say "Well, I would read it if I could see it" to which she would reply "Well, if you want to read it, then turn on the light" to which the other person would reply "Well, I didn't say I wanted to read it, did I?" And so it went.

Eventually, Mrs. Lee either had a stroke of genius or some other teacher took pity on her, but somehow Mrs. Lee learned that every classroom had a wooden yardstick and she could use that yardstick to turn the lights on and off herself.

Mrs. Lee makes the Hall of Fame simply because I kind of feel guily about it even though I only turned the lights out on her once. I swear. Really. Yes, really.

Sorry, Mrs. Lee.