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Substitute Teacher
A little political satire.
Substitute Teacher
Word spread quickly through the school about the sub in room four. It was welcomed news because yesterday students were particularly frustrated with the regular history teacher, Mr. Harvey. Apparently he had given them extra homework once he found out last year's teacher never went over required curriculum that needed to be utilized in the next lesson. Having already been tied down with projects procrastinated on from other classes, many of the students were very angry that the rest of their day was now ruined for sure. I'm not certain exactly what happened; I was absent because my alarm didn't go off in the morning and I chose to just stay home the rest of the day.
I came back to school today though and heard the news of how things had changed. My classmates seemed happy as they told their friends how easy the day was going to be now. Once third period came along, I didn't really know what to think. I pulled the door open and for some reason, like it was unexpected, found a stranger sitting in the desk in the corner of the room.
I think what surprised me about him was that he was awkwardly tall and had bags under a set of weary eyes. He looked cheerless and that pretend decorated ring finger only made it more depressing. Based off of my classmate's descriptions, I guess I just thought he would look the opposite. Oh well, maybe he doesn't always look this way. I mean I've never seen a substitute teacher outside of the classroom. They could be a completely different person for all I know.
The bell to start the period rings, but the substitute remains seated, busy with something tedious, like arranging letters in a crossword puzzle. All the class knows about him is the name written on the board: Mr. Pace. The bobbing pencil fills in the last cube with lead, is laid down, and the substitute introduces himself without getting up.
"My name is Mr. Pace," he explains to those who can't read. "My freinds call me John. I'll be filling in for Mr. Harvey today. Let me take roll."
The names go down the list, with slight mispronunciations on the big ones. Kids in the front rows respond "Right here John" with excitement, even though today Mr. Harvey won't be giving them any high grades to please their parents, providing them with allowance to spend on the junk food he sells. The substitute comes to a name he recognizes, and, thinking he might be able to form a relationship, asks if the student with the name is related to someone he knows. "No," a student in the back replies shortly. Mr. Pace seems let down: "Oh, sorry," then moves on.
"Alright, now that that's done, let's get started. From what I read on the class instructions, Mr. Harvey gave you a homework assignment yesterday. Don't worry about it. I'm not collecting it. You can turn it in when he comes back." All the students who didn't take the time to work on it smile with relief.
"But today you are to read your text books. Chapter 11: United States and the Middle East. That is all, just read. Please try not to start conversations while reading."
Glossy book covers slap on top of the desks. A few eyes begin scanning the words, taking notes word for word. Most of the others stare blankly at the walls. There's an open-mouthed teen napping in the back of the class with his face pressed into his own drool. One student takes advantage of the substitute's desire to appear sympathetic and gets the bathroom pass, not returning until ten minutes later, unquestioned. I glance back and forth between the clock and the stranger in the desk filling out crossword puzzles.
When the period ending bell rings, I gather my things and decide Mr. Pace didn't actually do anything extremely wrong. Yeah, I didn't learn anything new but it's not like you can do much in one period. I bet it wouldn't have been much different with Mr. Harvey anyway, and he probably would have also given us a test.
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To stare at the sun will blind, to get too close will burn...
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