Call ONE from Agency TWO
An. essentially, true Supply Teacher's short story
A September morning before Schools start their day
I survey myself in the
bathroom mirror. In this light I’m bright human-red and looking very harassed.
It must be waiting at all those red lights I’ve resisted the temptation to jump,
on my mountain terrain bike, that’s resulted in such a rich facial hue. Summer
is petering out now and its back to normal life as an educational contractor I
hope; flushing even more fiercely. My usual pallid complexion will soon be back
wielding a sword of vengeance (if Agencies No.1 and No.2 are both still the
exquisitely oiled engines I left behind in July). I’ve fired up my immersion
heater early, as usual, in order to take advantage of night rate electricity
and, more importantly, to ensure that, should I be called out to an agency
client school or centre of learning today at short notice, I will have red hot
bathing water on my return. Teaching is, contrary to popular belief, a
strenuous activity, done properly early autumn, when as Stephen Drew says “scorchio” can strike schools like a
forest fire. I munch on my raisin wheats doused in soya milk and swig my decaf
(yes decaf because now I’m virtually back to work I endeavour to become, like a
pregnant male, caffeine and alcohol
free). Today I refrain from listening to the radio news and chat and pick up an
unfinished brilliant book about somebody who has lived life much more
dangerously than me in order to educate the masses and gained an OBE – Kate
Aide. The “Kindness of Strangers” provides a supplementary wakeup call this
morning, the 9th of September, and I’m in the troubles in Belfast
“travelling at 100 plus miles per hour” by car across the urban battlefield.
Aide’s autobiography is a stirring
read and an excellent distraction. I stop fixating on my mobile phone and my
land line (not that I receive any incoming agency calls on it) for the ringtones
or App notifications. It is very early in the Academic Calendar but No.1 or 2
might be in touch. Not today, however, as by 9am I switch my Company No.1
mobile App off and prepare to seize the day to profit in another manner. I head
for the shopping centre five miles away, on my trusty MTB, and once there I
stop for a real cup of coffee. Real “bean” has featured unusually in my diet
this summer and Gosta serve a great filter at a very reasonable charge.
Regrettably I have not built in, as my chief employer recommends, access to “as
much free caffeine as you can drink” into my August recess. I then browse shops
for products which might sharpen my competitive edge as a fifty-plus supply
teacher even further. Soon the morning has been filled productively. I’ve
searched the local council website for jobs, Company No.1s extensive website,
which dates back to mid-August, and I also check out No.2s vacancies in the Central
Library. It’s now time for a well-deserved break – I cannot possibly start
commuting to Cambridge or even Preston from South Essex can I?
Burger Queen has been a real asset this summer as a complete meal can be purchased, joy of joys, at a school refectory subsidised-style cost. I glance at the home screen on my phone to see if No.1 with assets of around £25 million (previous tax year) have made any contact yet. It would be a miracle to get booked this early but I am an eternal optimist. No.2 have not called either. They are only worth around £1 million, according to Companies House, so I don’t expect fireworks from them either. Publicly declared assets are not really a logical way to compare agencies which seem in practice to be actually quite complementary in nature but the analyst has to start somewhere. Perhaps the afternoon will prove more lucrative I conjecture to myself.
Rain complicates the journey
home on my MTB and I’m relieved to be back in my cosy one bedroomed mansion
which is all mine. I am all set for a new term on supply and my routine today
has been typical of the early September wait. Last week Company No.2 invested
in an online CPD for its employees and I sweated for four hours in my local
library to complete the Safeguarding Certificate – I passed and this should improve my work prospects. I have a piece
of paper which supersedes my 2017 “2.0”. Furthermore, last week, I receive a
call, I now recollect, enquiring whether at Company No.2 they have an Art
Teacher immediately available. “Yes” I respond and a day later I’m offered a
one day booking confirmed in writing via email. On the 4th September
I’m virtually singing from the rooftops because I’ve been hired in my main
subject in what promises to be an on-going situation. But, a day later, it’s
cancelled with no reason given by the brand new Secondary Consultant. I return
to the mirror in the bathroom and my face is an even stronger shade of
vermillion. “You’ve turned very red” Neil I say to myself and start to plan a
highly nutritious evening meal for one.
The
next morning
Today is the day I need to
be at School X with Agency No.2, I think for a fraction of a second, but I
remember I'm not needed just yet - if ever. Phones don't move a muscle this
morning and I, therefore, have another day of self-coordinated CPD ahead of me.
Downtime is never "a day off" as I prepare for the
"classroom" thoroughly, in a myriad of ways, when I'm not in it.
Recreational film or music is strictly avoided all day and productive activity
is the order during usual working hours. It is high time to do some basic admin
today (a few minor document edits and a guest blog possibility) so updated
files can be despatched immediately on request and a cathartic post draft is at
least begun. A five mile MTB trip later I'm in the library updating my Teacher
CV by proudly inserting another certificated safeguarding course into the
existing document (can't cite an exact % of my Pass this time but a pass is a
pass). Next I add the online course success to my two page long INSET record
which hardly ever sees the light of day but comes in handy if one's form
filling.
Finally, I write up a page for my precious
professional development portfolio which now spans too many years to publish. I
keep this up to date because it has now kept two absolutely awesome Head teachers
amused at interview. One gave me a fantastic block of supply and the other had
already employed me beyond the limits of AWR with my consent. Two documents
printed to the slickest County Council standard and I head out of the Library
for a well-earned Gosta caffeine fix. I catch up on current affairs as I sip my
drink by reading a free paper (the frustrated accountant in me tells me this
almost pays for my medium premium filter).
What metaphorically hits me on the nose today, in the centre of town, is the plethora of Further Education students milling around, many of whom I will have taught. I start to flush as I imagine coinciding with an awkward faction. I then remind myself that I pride myself on being an unflappable high profile freelance educator: the force is with me.
After acquiring some new socks (casual wear
admittedly) I head for a smaller library run by a different unitary authority
five miles or so away on the cycle where my membership affords me further free
quality PC access. As I ride I review the bargains I've located today on a
cerebral level. They'll be there tomorrow I console myself. Lately the luxury
of returning the next day to pick up retail shop bargains is actually available
and this, I know from last week, seems to apply also to supply teachers. Demand
for supply will be LOW I remind
myself as I get nearer to the Library PC I require to compose and, perhaps,
print this story.
In the library the printer is down. Never mind, an hour and forty five minutes later I’ve produced a one page draft in agency-recommended Verdanna. The blog is taking shape and another box is ticked today. A familiar face from the 'Supply Teaching Circuit', Mr Cavein, is seated nearby grabbing his free hour on one of the Public Library Internet PCs. He simultaneously converses in Polish on his mobile and makes the loudest keyboard sound heard by woman or man. I almost say hello to this valued and, apparently, famous, pal on my tuition rounds. I am in no mood to be abducted, however, to a local watering hole and listen to hours of improvisation from an archetypal teacher of Drama today. We both progress with our preparation for the onslaught - adiós Mr Cavein, you've clocked me as well. As I travel, downhill, on my trusty MTB, home I feel like Kate Adie being chauffeured across Belfast at 100+ mph. Once inside my diminutive apartment I almost explode physically as I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. Nil, I inform myself, you are losing that vermilion sun tan outside the Academy classrooms this new school year! Then, I suddenly recall my latest chat to Supply Teaching Agency No.2: X School may need you the Wednesday instead of the scheduled Tuesday my new KS4 consultant suggested (provided I get on with the online course). Tomorrow, then, I may be excused from my own self-imposed CPD and get back into the classroom entirely out of the lethal sun. With this thought in mind, I turn a brighter version of red and head straight for the kitchen to prepare a really hearty dinner. Fill up with fruit and vegetables prior to an interview the ATL advised (in lavishly packaged writing): one is always under the microscope around the 'circuit' I know I'll filter into shortly.
The
morning after
Supply is akin to angling as, when you get a
bite and start to reel in, your rod could be bent double but there's no
guarantee of getting what's on the hook. I wonder if today I will land the
catch as predicted by Agency 2 and be invited to teach Art for the day. Writing
this tale in my mobile note App, device on charge, I recall my moment of panic
last night: no cereal bars or fresh fruit in my kitchen! These are health
giving essentials and I must factor a car trip to the supermarket into my day
should I not be booked by either agency. This is unlikely as my online
Debarring Service subscription renewal is due today 11.09.19. I shuddered when
I last logged into the site and saw for myself the number of familiar faces and
total strangers (mainly agency clients) poking around.
Following a meditative 10
minutes I log in to my Umbrella Company website and register as a Guest
Blogger. Sipping decaf a moment or two afterwards I think to myself - I hope
that this thing will go to press. Later, following a drive to the supermarket
to stock up on food basics, in my closest library, I discover that whilst I’m
welcomed as a guest blogger by my umbrella company there’s no immediate slot
available. I find myself sulking like a child at the computer for a second or
two but then console myself that the text is not yet finished anyway.
A magnanimous librarian
extends my time on my computer and I crack on with some more admin which I had
not confronted yesterday. At the age of 50 I did a draft of my autobiography
which I’m still editing at the age of 52. This document may need to come out of
the filing cabinet for client viewing or publication at some point so well
worth the super-human effort. Additionally I need to chase up the independent
exhibition of art I’ve been planning for what seems like an age. Should I start
an original illustration for my guest blog whenever it might be required? Does
my professional development portfolio need some further TLC? I feel myself
turning red – I’ve so much to do.
Having conquered the main task today, sending off a high priority email draft of my post proposal to The Company, I’m just tidying up at my Library PC when my attention is drawn to a school uniformed individual at the library counter behind me, a former pupil. “Hey” I say as our eyes collide. Leaving the library today I know that the new Term has definitely started and the air, at long last, is turning slightly cooler.
You
Start September……
Its Friday 13th, unlucky for
some, including me today, and I wait for some news near to Moby (my android
phone) at 8.10am. The highlights yesterday were completing my post draft (an A)
and coinciding with another supply veteran just pulling into the central
library in state of the art biking apparel as I was leaving: "alright" (she smiles back). We're
both staying alive at least. If we were in a staffroom we would sit and chat at
some length but its golden time for both of us currently.
I also made some progress on
my auto bio yesterday by accidentally pasting in three already existing
sections. I still reviewed it...
Last night, I sorted my
laundry for the week and this morning I've vacuum cleaned and dusted my tiny
abode and ironing is done. Should I be called out by No.1 or 2 my house is
completely in order so I'll, at least in theory, be a smarter performer in the
classroom.
Sipping decaf at 8.26am I'm
eying the watercolour I created early Summer inspired by the Italian Job
starring Michael Caine. Wealth takes many forms, I think to myself. Why not
enjoy the extended holiday? You are a seasoned supply as the agency likes to
describe you and the September wait is no surprise to you. What's more, the
Company pays your holiday pay and you’re like your main scale counterparts but
officially not back to work. Relax and enjoy the break. What's more the phone
sprang into life yesterday and another new consultant assured you that it will
"pick up in the next few weeks". So you’re clear and ready for the
true end of the wait.
When I check in later with
Agency 1 I hear more good news - a well pleased client is mentioned in my
weekly availability update call and possible work on the horizon. Nothing yet
however. Admin and target driven shopping centre based acquisitions have
occupied me this afternoon. Silver and hardback books at 95% less than RRP
cheers me up immensely. Late afternoon I'm reading one of the three books which
currently live in my lounge partially read. A high ranking comedian writes in
his autobiography about life inside. This is my evening’s entertainment.
Tomorrow is Saturday and I release myself from the cuffs of the supply week,
albeit a week which has passed devoid of teaching substitution. All I need to
do is insert one word into my Curriculum Vitae which Agency No.1 consultant
this afternoon informs me is not really
required.
The tiredest man in the
world is a body I don't need to be in. The weekend is gone and today I'm
finishing a children's novel and checking the App when my mobile flags up a
positive reply to my post proposal. The Company will be giving my catharsis
their full attention. A car based food-shop and the day's done. I've finished
reading about sibling swap action in the children's novel I acquired in the
library book sale and I'm a day closer to supply Nirvana. I'll soon be
returning to the class room like Mervyn being reclaimed by the mighty ocean - as
always there is never a completely cast iron guarantee of this on the supply
circuit.
Not much to report today
(Tuesday). I read/respond to an email from Company 1 PM in the Central Library
(CL) - do you want to know about 1-1 work? NO it’s not just SEN though! OK.
Still no meat on the bones yet...
Next morning (Wednesday) I
finally bubble wrap the art exhibition created over the Summer for an onward
journey somewhere; ironically I haven’t decided where the pictures will bask in
the spotlight's glare yet. I top up vac, shop rapidly in my local German
hypermarket, and then head for the town centre. I sip my Gosta coffee plain air
accompanied by a ridiculously well-equipped and tuneful new age busker. It’s a
lovely day as he performs "back to the school yard".
Oh he's back again today
relocated with at least £5 sterling in his hard guitar case as I pass by. Big
news this afternoon after a swift BK full of “kids" - the blog is rejected
but part of it could work!
Its Friday again. DITTO! I
send an amended post to the Company in the light of its online criticism. I'm
told there's "scope for a series" of themed blogs yesterday: I’ve
bagged some s/h silverware today on the strength of that suggestion from my senior
employee care Leader. Another week on or should I rephrase that as a week more
off supply is out of the way. I'm up on the week - wealth takes many forms.
Saturday
(usually censored out of this chronological recount) is a sudden cause for
jubilation. My revised post sent yesterday is accepted for publication pending
some editing and a detailed review of content. I read the email Saturday
morning with great pleasure, I edit the blog for two hours roughly to spec and
join the masses in the town centre for the usual retail revelry. The Gosta
coffee tastes better than ever today. I may have at least succeeded in
bolstering my internet status as an educator this week in classroom exile.
Its Sunday now (late
afternoon) and I glance at the car showroom on my way past for the umpteenth time.
Exquisite but not purchased for the duration of my holiday I notice yet again.
It will be the 23rd September tomorrow and hope I won't be left on the
forecourt unsold too much longer I lament.
Monday and up especially early: I can sense that a booking is nigh (but I'm wrong) I eat and iron my brand new Tour de France top. Back on the road today, maybe, I think to myself at 6.30am. Bushed from the weekend I slowly type this memoir into my mobile notes APP; conscious of my battery getting too low for a supply day at 93%. Better stop...
Yesterday was much the same as today (Monday
and Tuesday didn't differ) save for some light at the end of the guest blogging
tunnel. I amend my post further for the publisher and it looks like it will go
live in the not too distant future. Newly titled and audience focussed I'm
becoming a prolific industrial author in 2019. My publisher says she hopes the
work is flowing in - I, similarly, hope for some supply soon. For the time
being, however, I'm up on the week. Some more silver shopping may be the right
therapeutic move tomorrow. Like Snoop Dogg I feel like a walking dead man and
ready to flop into my bed. Another arduous day off supply is out of my life's
way but before I retire here's my Tuesday...….
I drive through depressing
rain to the supermarket, do an active supply shop (still passive) and check my
email en route home in the library. The heat is off and I'm DM'd and jacketed
now. I start to reorganise my existing Corporate publishing today, propelled by
renewed enthusiasm after what looks like another blog going live. I said
goodbye to Kate Adie this afternoon having finished reading the Kindness of
Strangers but I feel too compelled to return to the start; my survival instinct
has been honed this month. Sleep now - a reporter in a newly dug, disused
grave.
Wednesday is wet and half the day I'm paper pushing at home. Reviewing the Teachers Portfolio for the umpteenth time I conclude that even though it may have swung it at interview something still isn't right. I weed out some publishing and find two recommended new portfolio structures on the web. That's it, I cycle to the library and in three hours I create new dividers for my folder makeover. My Company contact thanks me again today and she is making final adjustments to my blog for publication and running it past a director for final approval. My post has made it that far down the river so it should reach its live destination with God's blessing. I cycle like a mad man through gunfire (it might rain) at dusk and I'm home around 6.15pm. Tea and a bath then my portfolio revamp occupy me until I return to the disused grave, its bedtime. But, just as I'm about to retire to Dreamland, the landline goes and it's one of my most ancient cronies: we go back decades: Mr Cavein. I've sent him the draft of my Guest blog for his expert thespian perusal recently - he'll be "having a look". Around one full hour of GMT later we're saying adiós. I've toured the South of England and the Isle of Guernsey in his anecdotal accounts of his nomadic darting around in a Fiat camper van: Cavein travels to the darkest corners of the world for the best possible supply teaching swag: a popular and talented drama specialist. 10 minutes later Cavein's back on the blower. He's remortgaging a 300K villa, via Santander™, it's all complicated, he can't turn to his three sisters, he needs a £100 bung to bridge his finances. I advise him to negotiate with Santander™.
26th
September 2019:
Like a phoenix rising from ashes, I'm a supply teacher for whom the wait is over this morning for I receive a 34 second call on my mobile and my life has returned. The cancellation of Company No.2 is now a rebooking this morning, 3 weeks down the line. I answer the call and get to the school in twenty minutes leaving my teaching logs and portfolios in mid-sort. I start yet another Term as an educator with a one day general cover assignment. Company 2 (with assets of 1 million) beat their larger competitor (with assets of 25 million) with the first opportunity of the academic calendar - they're the new No.1!!!!!!!
THE END ✋
