It doesn’t require not only any knowledge of the subject, but even active participation in the lesson. You just have to distribute the materials prepared by the regular teacher and collect the notebooks — that’s all. So I could have been a substitute for physics, chemistry, or English teachers, but I limited myself to math, where I could have shared some knowledge even if my English was far from perfect.
At 5:30 a.m. sharp, a phone would ring, and an automatic voice would notify me where the substitution was needed today. Using a paper map (there were no smartphones then), I had to orient myself and find the way to the school. It was good if it happened to be high school. It was easier there, they were almost adults, minding their own business: we don't touch you, and you don't touch us.
In middle school, there was usually anarchy — noise, hubbub, a lot of running around, and general mayhem. My role was not to let them kill each other and to at least try and control this horde. It is prohibited to leave children unattended in schools.
It was really boring to just sit at the table and doze off, although that was exactly what I was expected to do. Once I decided to teach an actual lesson instead of idly sitting around. But I failed to take into account that this class was the last one before the lunch break.
It has to be said that the lunch break is an important point in the US school schedule. Even before the dismissal bell, every free school worker headed by the director line up along the corridor that leads to the canteen. When the bell rings, all the doors open, and just like wild animals, school students rush out of them and run screaming, laughing, yelling, and pushing each other. The teachers try to follow them, quell them, put them in a column, and bring them to the canteen in a predetermined order transmitted by a speaker.
And so I am finishing the lesson, and the dismissal bell rings. But we haven’t finished solving one of the problems. All the students are at the blackboard, arguing loudly, and everyone is trying to share their ideas and write them on the board. One minute passes, then another and another… Suddenly the director comes in with two policemen, sternly glances over the class, and changes his countenance, his jaw drops down. “What’s going on here?” he asks either me or the students. “We’re solving the problem,” I answer. “We didn’t manage to solve it on time.”
You can understand why he was worried: the whole class was missing. Obviously, something is wrong!
“Fine,” the director says confusedly after a long pause, still not believing his eyes. Just in case, he reminded us, “Actually, it is a lunch break…” And he went away.
Luckily, there were no negative repercussions for me.