This poor guy was substitute teaching in Florida and found that his attempt to draw the kids in–hopefully, get them to pay some attention, resulted in his getting fired and being accused of Wizardry of all freaking things.
Now, let me just say I’ve had experience with substitutes who try to employ a little magic while taming the elementary school masses.
The setting for the little magic mishap I witnessed was in a school district that was having some trouble financially and academically–the surrounding community suffered great economic decline. The school was rarely able to secure substitutes in the first place and when they did manage to coax one in the door, the principal and other teachers did everything to be sure he/she stayed.
You might wonder how difficult it was to do that–I mean, they’re just elementary kids, right?
Well, before the magician appeared, there were records set for the speed with which a sub would throw down the teacher’s manual, load up her bag and high-tail it home. Some made it to lunch. Others stayed until they could drop the kids at 10:30 music class.
And then, well, the magic-man cometh.
It took ten minutes for word to spread throughout the school that not only had the district secured a sub, but HE was in the building and ready to go. He stood in the office grinning, speaking with sweeping gestures, announcing he had some fantastic magic tricks that never failed to mesmerize and impress the youngins. People (I must say, me too) snickered behind his back because these youngins liked nothing more than a glinty look in a teacher’s eye, that spark that said, "I’m about to teach you something," a double-dog dare ya of sorts. We hoped that he could, in fact, create magic and last through the entire school day, classroom intact, children on task, learning having ocurred, but at that point, doubt was our well-known companion.
It took thirty-three minutes for 17 third-graders to make the magician and his fancy tricks disappear.
How’s that for wizardry?