“You’re just a sub.”
I was told that I was “just a sub” more times than I could count during my year and a half of substitute teaching. I was “just a sub,” I was no more than a warm body in a classroom only good for taking attendance and passing out classwork. My primary function was to be an emotional punching bag for students and staff to take out their frustrations on. Originally, I wanted to obtain a Ph.D. and teach collegiate Creative Writing and English Literature courses, but my experience as a substitute teacher destroyed and decimated that dream.
Substitute teachers are paid a low daily rate, nowhere close to a living wage. We enter a classroom with no knowledge of curriculum, classroom dynamics, or student behavioral or medical issues. We enter a room blindly, review a less-than-detailed plan for the day, and write our names on the board, praying that the day will run smoothly. Some days are wonderful, and we can deliver instruction without interruption, support students, and complete all tasks left by the absent teacher. However, often we are met with obstinance, abuse both verbal and physical, and no support from the administration when we are forced to discipline students.
I have had students call me derogatory names such as “bitch,” “fat,” “whore,” “dyke,” and many more. For those of you who do not work in education, you may think that this is deplorable, and it is. Unfortunately, it is the norm. When substitute teachers try to correct student behavior, no matter how gentle and calm we are, we are met with defiance. After reminding a class that they should not be screaming, reminding them that they are allowed to speak quietly to one another, I was pelted with paper balls. I sent the disruptive students to the office for their disrespectful behavior, but they returned less than ten minutes later with no apology or disciplinary action taken. A student once accused me of having sexual relations with another teacher on my lunch break. It was humiliating.
Staff can be just as bad as students. I started eating lunch alone in my classroom due to the rudeness of certain teachers. I witnessed teachers gossiping with one another about students with developmental disabilities, insulting students who were struggling in class, and claiming that “anxiety is not real.” The teachers form cliques of their own, just like their students, and look down upon substitute teachers; we aren’t real teachers, and we don’t matter. I was chatting with a teacher about my graduate classes, and she told me that my master’s degree was a waste of time and completely useless. She advocated that college was a waste of money and wouldn’t encourage any of her students to pursue higher education. I was floored, and I returned to my classroom with tears in my eyes.
I was not taught proper classroom management, but I tried my best with the tools I was given. Students are bound to defy the rules and act unruly when they have a substitute teacher, but what I endured was pure torture. I did not ask much of my students, just that they did not yell or scream and that they attempted to complete their classwork. Apparently, that was too much to ask.
Substitute teachers can only use the bathroom during passing time, plan periods that we are often forced to work for no additional pay, and lunch breaks. I often had to hold in my urine for hours before I had the chance to use the bathroom — we were not allowed to leave the classroom at any time, even for emergencies. I did not have access to the staff bathrooms, so I would have to use the student restrooms. This is not a problem unless you are young; I was constantly mistaken as a student and berated by hall monitors for being out of the classroom. My baby face did not earn me any respect from students as they saw me as a peer and not an authority.
Substitute teachers are valiant, compassionate, flexible people who can adapt to complex environments in a matter of seconds. We are essential to the school; we are there so that teachers can go to doctor appointments, go on maternity leave, or simply just take a day off. We are constantly winging it, hoping that we will get a good review from the teacher the next day. Yes, teachers can leave reviews for their substitute teachers and if we accrue too many poor reviews, we will be reprimanded. Despite leaving detailed notes for the teacher explaining what occurred every hour and why certain goals weren’t met, I was scolded.
If I ever expressed my concerns with the administration, they did not provide me any support whatsoever. Even in cases of racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, antisemitism, and other hate against federally protected minority groups, the administration did not do anything. I felt helpless, hopeless, and useless. How could I protect my minority students from hate when I had no power? At the end of particularly devastating days, I would cry in my car before driving home.
Why was I doing this to myself? Why was I subjecting myself to disrespect, abuse, and hatred? I became jaded about education. I was burnt out and horribly depressed, but I continued to go into classroom after classroom for the truly wonderful students, the students who were eager to learn, kind, and respectful. When I had a good day, I felt on top of the world — I helped students understand concepts about English grammar and rhetoric. It was incredibly rewarding to know that I helped someone learn. However, the bad days far outweighed the good.
My mental health was actively worsened due to the stress and uncertainty that comes with being a substitute teacher. We are currently in a global teacher shortage. School districts are incapable of retaining permanent and substitute teachers; #TeacherQuitTok is popular for a reason. Teachers are human beings; we have thoughts and feelings. After a year and a half of substitute teaching, I could not justify putting myself through hell for the off chance I may have a wonderful day. For my own sanity, I had to quit. I felt an immense amount of guilt as if I was letting down my students, but I reminded myself that I was “just a sub.” I am replaceable.
I do not miss substitute teaching, but I miss seeing my students’ eyes light up when a concept I was explaining finally clicked in their heads. I miss drinking my coffee and reading to students. I miss being “the teacher who plays Fortnite.” School districts need to do better, or there will be no substitute teachers left.
