The uncertainties of subbing

“In the measurement world, you set a goal and strive for it. In the universe of possibility, you set the context and let life unfold.”
– “The Art of Possibility,” p. 21
Rosamund Stone Zander
and Benjamin Zander

By Cindy Reitzi

Optimists like the Zanders oppose mindsets they dub “survival thinking” – thinking that assumes scarcity and limitations; that life is dangerous, so we need to focus our energy on “looking out for Number 1,” no matter how “safe” we actually are, physically, financially, or emotionally. What they do advocate is “generative thinking” and practice: we focus our energy on connection and giving human relationships, creating possibilities, not limitations. Genera-tive mindsets encourage abundance, not scarcity.

While I generally agree with optimists, sometimes – as a substitute teacher – it’s hard not to think “scarcity” at the nail-biting beginning of the school year when I find the work can be slow while we subs wait white-knuckled for our first paychecks in October.

Sometimes I wonder why I tolerate this uncertainty every year. Yet, in my own way, it fits into my universe of possibility. Not only do I like subbing, but it also offers me choice and variety. It is an uncertain job, but it also allows for great independence – virtually no one micromanages me while I work. Plus, with day-to-day subbing, I have no pounds of paperwork to schlep home to grade. These possibilities are refreshingly different from most jobs.

But I pay a price for my coveted freedom; I am at the mercy of a machine for my livelihood. The machine is not a benign tool; it controls how much work I receive, and it determines my paycheck. And when the phone doesn’t ring, I do experience “scarcity” and anxiety.

Most mornings, however, this machine wakes me at 6 a.m. to answer the existential questions of substitute teachers: Who am I today? Where am I today? This is where my freedom of choice kicks in. I can choose not to take the assignment, but then I can also choose not to pay my mortgage.
Like my freedom, it’s a Catch-22.

We used to have a program where we could call in and “job shop” for assignments. This worked pretty well. We could line up our work schedules and plan ahead. Plus, it had the catchy title of “Subfinder,” sort of like sonar for substitute teachers.

Now, due to budget constraints, the Madison Metropolitan School District utilizes the Substitute Employee Management System (SEMS), which has double the technology to “job shop.” This system is a Web site and a phone-in system – but alas, the shelves in the store are often empty. I’ve rarely gotten work by phoning in; I’ve never gotten work from the Web site. So, more than ever, I wait for that phone call. The downtown secretaries explained that most jobs on the machine are teacher requests for specific subs, except the morning assignments. Still, it put a crimp on my universe of possibilities.

The system to call subs is further complicated by how high school subs are paid. We’re not paid half or full days like elementary and middle school subs. We’re paid on a percentage basis, per class period subbed, not time spent at school. A “full day” is five classes. So, if you’re paid $100 for a full day, you’d get $20 per class taught. So, theoretically, you could get called in all day for two classes ($40), but then have to stay for the other six “unpaid” hours of a typical school day. So, knowing the percentage of the assignment is crucial in determining your paycheck at the end of the month. Subs keep careful records of each work day. If you are the sole breadwinner and want to pay your bills, then you want to maximize full-time assignments.

Trouble is, SEMS never tells us the percentage of our assignments. The secretaries downtown who manage the system also don’t know assignment percentages on the morning of a call. The people who do know aren’t at school at 6 a.m. when I get the call. So, essentially, I have to take the assignment and show up at school to determine the percentage I’m working that day. (As Dave Barry would put it, “I am not making this up.”)

Still, since the start of last year was bone dry and sky-rocketed my stress level, I needed to change the context of my thinking. I had to make human choices, not machine-driven ones. I had to work around the machine.

So I got a third job to float me through the rough passages; I checked with friendly secretaries for work and I “advertised” to teachers with humorous posters and business cards.

Still, circumstances have a strange way of working out. When I do a good job substitute teaching, I get great satisfaction out of my work and a job well done. Teachers then request me, and I get more work. So, ultimately, my actual “work” life, the human enterprise of teaching, feels abundant, not scarce.

September 13, 2005