“Hi,” said the art teacher as the I.A. opened the classroom door.

“Hi…,” replied the confused I.A., unaccustomed to seeing the art teacher at the door.

“I brought your class back. I figured I’d return them on my way to lunch,” the art teacher explained.

“What?” The I.A. looked at the classroom clock. “Where’s the sub?”

“I don’t know, but I waited until 25 after and decided to bring them down so I wouldn’t miss anymore time from my lunch.”

The obviously perplexed I.A. apologized, “I’m so sorry. I sent the sub up at 20 after to pick the kids up. He didn’t make it there?”

“Nope.”

“I really am sorry. He should have been there. That’s odd. I wonder where he is?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see him anywhere.”

“Again, I am sorry. Thank you for bringing them back. Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thanks.”

On her way back up to her classroom to eat lunch (because, truth be told, the art teacher actually eats in the classroom while prepping for other classes, but the I.A. doesn’t need to know that) she never encountered the missing substitute teacher. She wondered where it was he had wandered off to and if he ever made it back to the classroom.

   
Every day I log-in to Blogger to check out what’s happening, even if I don’t have anything to post that day. And every day I’ve been HUGELY disappointed.

“What? No comments to approve? What is going on here? I feel so unloved.”

And then this evening, for whatever reason, I clicked on one of my posts and noticed that there were some comments.

“Wait, what? I don’t remember approving those. Did I do it during a cold medication-induced haze?”

And then I looked at another post and saw comments there as well. And then I looked at another post and saw even more comments (and so on and so on.)

And then I felt like the biggest dope as I recalled that I disabled the approve comments feature weeks ago. So, long story short, thank you, and I apologize for not replying to your comments. I didn’t realize they were there.

Hope everyone has a safe and restful Thanksgiving break!

Two of the art teachers I work with are, how should I put this? Losing their shit. Two of them. And this isn’t the first time I’ve witnessed the unraveling of a fellow, experienced, art teacher. Or two. Or three. Which makes me wonder? Do we art teachers have an expiration date? A good-til date? And what is it exactly that makes art teachers fall apart so epically? Our hectic schedules? Our workaholic tendencies? Our inability to take one single moment for ourselves? All of the above?

Why do we put so much of ourselves into a job, a career, that gives so little back to us? Where does the driving passion come from that propels us to get to work an hour early every morning, work through our lunch breaks every day, and stay an hour or two after work every evening? Self-sacrificing seems to be a prerequisite characteristic for becoming an art teacher. That and multitasking, flexible, open minded and patient (although, I often find myself thin on that last one).

Do we set ourselves up for momentous burn-out, or are multiple factors conspiring against us that will eventually culminate with are inevitable self-destruction? Is self-destruction inevitable as an art teacher? Do I have a use-by date? Will I meet my end storming from the classroom, surrounded by a fury of curses, or will I go down in a melting pool of obsessive meddling and frantic busybody antics? Or will I be okay?

I’d like to think I’ll be okay and that I’ll survive this crazy career I’ve chosen for myself.

I used to feel immense guilt about staying home from work when sick. I used to think that my absence would create irrecoverable damage to my students when they discovered that their beloved art teacher was out. I used to think that the classroom teachers would be concerned and worried and wonder all day if the art teacher, who is never sick, was on her death bed.

I would drag myself out of the warm comforts of my bed, force myself into a scalding shower, and drive, in a fuzzy daze, into work where I would be only vaguely aware of the happenings around me and the comings and goings of my various classes.

And then I realized that no one really gave a shit. The students’ day still went on as usual, even with a sub for art. The teachers barely thought twice about it, as they didn’t care who taught their students art, just as long as there was someone there to give them the hour break they deserved. In fact, the only person affected my by absence, besides me, was the substitute.

I’ve worked as a substitute teacher for years, so I’m very sympathetic to the subs that come in for me. I try to leave sub plans that are as thorough as possible, outlining all my duties, the location of all art supplies, which students will be helpful, and where my chocolate stash is located. Which is probably why it takes me three hours to write sub plans.

When I write sub plans, I always assume the worst and expect the least from everyone, sub and students alike. Even my best behaved class become little beings of evil. I leave detailed explanations of all classroom procedures. I leave overly specific step-by-step lesson instructions. I leave back-up lessons in case the sub isn’t art familiar and isn’t comfortable teaching the art lesson I have left. And then, at the end of my plans, I let the sub know that it is okay if they totally disregard the plans and classroom procedures to teach and run the classroom in a way that he/she feels most comfortable with.

Why do I do this? Because every now and again you get a fantastic sub who finds the detailed plans deeming and an insult to their capabilities. I know this, because I often felt like this sub. Especially in the art room. There was nothing more insulting than showing up and teaching a lesson (or showing a *gasp* video) that was obviously busy work. But as a sub, you’re expected to follow the plans left for you. There were many times when I longed for this little, handwritten note, on the bottom of the sub plans, “Or, if you’re art minded, feel free to teach any lesson you have in your arsenal of lessons you keep stored in that competent brain of yours.”

All this being said, I was in such a congested haze last night when writing my sub plans for today that I’m pretty sure my sub will find my plans either a) demeaning b) seriously lacking or c) a rambling, incoherent, 3-paged document that was obviously written by a crazy woman afflicted with fever and a touch of delirium.