alas, no job . . . yet
It occurs to me that I never mentioned the outcome of my job, or the crazy crazy interview I had. This is actually mildly interesting, in a you might have had to be there kind of way. My lack of follow-ups is appalling I know.
Let me set the scene for you:
On this blessed blessed day, I was about to settle down and start my book. [aside - the book is called "my brother" by jamaica kincaid. don't read it.] Suddenly, the intercom buzzes.
Okay, I know the asides are probably really annoying, but I have to throw this in here - it took me a while to catch on to the buzzers. I was so oblivious to the intercom system that when I first started subbing I wouldn't even notice it when someone paged the room asking for the teacher or if one of the kids was in there. I'd go right on talking or yelling at kids, and one of the kids would usually answer the page. Yep, and we can't figure out why nobody takes the poor poor substitutes seriously. Remember how substitutes could never ever figure out the tv or the vcr's or the overhead projectors, or how to find their way back out of the classrooms or anything? I always thought that going in I'd be way on top of this stuff, and I usually am, with a little help from some wonderful keener. This aside is starting to become its own self-sustaining entity, I had best continue.
The intercom buzzes.
principal: Mrs. Verwey?
me: yes?
principal: Can you pick up the handset?
me: ok. [substitute brilliantly retrieves handset] Hello?
principal: Can you come to the office for an interview?
me: holy shit [ok, i just thought that, i didn't actually say it out loud. i hope] Sure.
principal: that's okay? you're ready?
Seriously, what am I supposed to say? No Mr. P, I cannot come. I am horrible under pressure, I am totally unprepared, and I can't handle surprise situations. But hire me to teach hundreds of hormonal, wild and willful students who probably won't walk the line 60% of the time.
Of course I said yes.
The interview was supposed to be 15 minutes later. I tried to compose myself and think of myself as an intelligent and confident person. However, one of the interviewers (yes there were two) was late, so I ended up pacing around in the staffroom for the next 25 minutes or so.
Overall though, despite looking like I had crawled out of a box, smoothed my hair with puddle water and then put on my slightly-too-short pants with my old runners, I did okay. I had to pause to think of a few answers, but the interview went really conversationally, and I think I had a lot of good answers. I always expected them to ask a question and then solemnly look at me while I desperately muddled through my response, saying nothing the entire time. It wasn't like that at all. I'd answer the best I could, and usually they'd agree with me and then we'd all chat, or they'd tell me stuff about the school, so I felt quite good about everything by the end.
Unfortunately, it's tough to beat out experience. The principal called me a few days later, and left a message saying that I didn't get the job, but that I had interviewed really well especially considering that I had been caught off guard. Turns out some guy who'd been to different countries and taught in some really tough situations and had 11 years of teaching experience got the job. I don't feel bad about losing the job to someone like that. It would be pretty weird if he hadn't gotten it.
That's about it. Until I find something else, I'll continue to be the friendly neighborhood substitute who crashes staff Christmas banquets, and isn't as nice as real teachers. Or so the kids say.
Let me set the scene for you:
- It's laundry day. Or it should have been laundry day, or it should have been laundry day a few days ago. As a result, when the school calls I have to put on the shabbiest old casual dress clothes I can find. That's right.
- In the morning my poor babe cries. Okay, there's nothing poor about him, he just has a habit of getting up to eat. Instead of waking Steven so I can have a shower a little earlier I figure I'll let Steven sleep a little longer and then just hurry a little getting ready. As a result I skim time off my morning routine by putting my wet hair in a ponytail. You know what happens to wet hair. It looks like poopoo later.
- I never mentioned the eye patch. I wore an eye patch in the interim period between my surgery and getting my new eye. Some people don't worry about it, I on the other hand am a somewhat self-conscious person and would rather not present myself as someone from a creature movie. Don't tell my mom I said that, I said that to her once and I think I almost made her cry. As a mother, she believes her children are beautiful.
- I am subbing the absolute worst bunch of kids. Seriously, for the most part I enjoy subbing! Not this day. By the end of the day I am hoarse. Geez I hope that's the right spelling. So when I finally got to my spare (i mean . . . . prep) I was so ready for it.
- I have never ever had a teaching interview before. Not even for subbing, you bring them your stuff, they put you on the list and leave you in charge of hundreds of moody, snotty children/teenagers. The level of trust astounds me. At least I'm not a crier.
On this blessed blessed day, I was about to settle down and start my book. [aside - the book is called "my brother" by jamaica kincaid. don't read it.] Suddenly, the intercom buzzes.
Okay, I know the asides are probably really annoying, but I have to throw this in here - it took me a while to catch on to the buzzers. I was so oblivious to the intercom system that when I first started subbing I wouldn't even notice it when someone paged the room asking for the teacher or if one of the kids was in there. I'd go right on talking or yelling at kids, and one of the kids would usually answer the page. Yep, and we can't figure out why nobody takes the poor poor substitutes seriously. Remember how substitutes could never ever figure out the tv or the vcr's or the overhead projectors, or how to find their way back out of the classrooms or anything? I always thought that going in I'd be way on top of this stuff, and I usually am, with a little help from some wonderful keener. This aside is starting to become its own self-sustaining entity, I had best continue.
The intercom buzzes.
principal: Mrs. Verwey?
me: yes?
principal: Can you pick up the handset?
me: ok. [substitute brilliantly retrieves handset] Hello?
principal: Can you come to the office for an interview?
me: holy shit [ok, i just thought that, i didn't actually say it out loud. i hope] Sure.
principal: that's okay? you're ready?
Seriously, what am I supposed to say? No Mr. P, I cannot come. I am horrible under pressure, I am totally unprepared, and I can't handle surprise situations. But hire me to teach hundreds of hormonal, wild and willful students who probably won't walk the line 60% of the time.
Of course I said yes.
The interview was supposed to be 15 minutes later. I tried to compose myself and think of myself as an intelligent and confident person. However, one of the interviewers (yes there were two) was late, so I ended up pacing around in the staffroom for the next 25 minutes or so.
Overall though, despite looking like I had crawled out of a box, smoothed my hair with puddle water and then put on my slightly-too-short pants with my old runners, I did okay. I had to pause to think of a few answers, but the interview went really conversationally, and I think I had a lot of good answers. I always expected them to ask a question and then solemnly look at me while I desperately muddled through my response, saying nothing the entire time. It wasn't like that at all. I'd answer the best I could, and usually they'd agree with me and then we'd all chat, or they'd tell me stuff about the school, so I felt quite good about everything by the end.
Unfortunately, it's tough to beat out experience. The principal called me a few days later, and left a message saying that I didn't get the job, but that I had interviewed really well especially considering that I had been caught off guard. Turns out some guy who'd been to different countries and taught in some really tough situations and had 11 years of teaching experience got the job. I don't feel bad about losing the job to someone like that. It would be pretty weird if he hadn't gotten it.
That's about it. Until I find something else, I'll continue to be the friendly neighborhood substitute who crashes staff Christmas banquets, and isn't as nice as real teachers. Or so the kids say.
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