As I assist Alma dusting the house during Liberty’s nap time, my cell phone rings with an unknown number.
“Hello, this is Madison,” I answer. It’s the principal from the middle school I’ll be starting as a long-term substitute teacher in three days. I take a seat allowing myself to give him my full attention. As he explains they won’t be needing me to cover this placement, a hot heavy weight lands in the pit of my stomach. I listen while he explains the male teacher I was to cover for will no longer need to take five weeks off for paternity leave. His wife gave birth three weeks early.
Tears sting my eyes as I assure him I understand that babies rarely arrive as scheduled and I hope he will keep me in mind for any upcoming subs he might need.
As I return my phone to my back pocket, I mourn the loss of the steady income I counted on for the next five weeks.
I return the duster to the pantry before filling Alma in on my disappointing phone conversation. I excuse myself to my bedroom as I need to register for substitute positions at the area school districts.
For the next three hours, I jump from website to website inputting my information and uploading my documentation. I download the two mobile apps most districts use so I am ready to receive alerts as openings occur.
Now I wait. Several schools restart classes from winter break tomorrow, so I need to be ready to quickly accept any openings that might alert me tonight or prior to seven in the morning.
I shoot a text to Hamilton as I head downstairs to join Alma and my girl.
Me: sub job cancelled
Me: (sad emoji)
I say goodnight to Alma as I carry Liberty up to bed. Liberty and I rock for fifteen minutes before I lay my sleeping girl in her crib.
I slip into my pajamas before climbing into bed with a notebook and my laptop in hand. I start a random movie on Netflix, take my pen in hand, and start writing. Instead of continuing my story, I journal tonight. I fill pages with my disappointment. I complain now that instead of one school, one subject, and one group of students for five weeks, I will be at different schools, with different ages or subjects, and new students every day.
I’ll no longer know if I work tomorrow or in three days—at times I’ll get an alert or phone call then need to be at the classroom within an hour.
I looked forward to this long-term placement to make a great impression day after day. Now it might be harder to meet influential administrators at each building while I’m only there a day then not seen again for a while.
I really thought this was my lucky break. I wanted this chance to fit in as a part of a team, it’s not easy to do that one day here and one day there.
I pout and wallow in my disappointment for several hours before finally falling asleep with Netflix still streaming on my laptop.