This week’s blog about substitute teaching will be unique in the fact that it doesn’t involve any students.  In fact, this entire story takes place before the first morning bell ever rang and is just another one of the hundred-plus reasons why I love this part time job.  You never know what kind of characters you’re going to meet and what nuggets of wisdom you’ll subsequently take away from them.

I was teaching in a high school that I had not been to before.  I arrived early that morning for two reasons.  The first is that I always like to allow extra time when visiting a new school.  Each one has specific sign-in rules that have to be followed precisely.  The second is that I always like to have a chance to read the teacher’s lesson plans for me to see what I may need to ‘modify’ for the day to solidify the role of ‘cool substitute teacher.’  I remember how invigorating it was to have a cool sub as a student, so now that I have the chance to return the favor to the next generation…you better believe I’m taking it! (Side Note: ‘Cool’ is a subjective term and many of my students would not categorize me as such…but hey…points for trying, right?)

On this particular morning, I was so early that I beat most of the office staff to work.  I showed up ready to sign in and find my classroom for the day, but nobody was around to show me what to do.  The principal was in her office, but I didn’t want to interrupt her.  The fact of the matter is that I didn’t like being in the principal’s office as a student and I think that phobia has somehow carried over into my adult years.

I waited and waited, but no one showed up.  Finally, an elderly gentleman entered the office.  He looked like he was 130 years old.  He was about my height (although he walked hunched over) with snow-white hair and wore the thickest pair of glasses I had ever seen.  If he was teaching science that day, there’s no way he’d need his own microscope.  He sported a plaid shirt with a cotton-knit tie that fell short of his belt buckle by about 6 inches.  I distinctly remember the cotton-knit tie because they were all the rage in the 1980s and I still have a drawer-full of my own.  I’m just waiting for them to become en vogue again.  Anyway, where was I?  Oh yeah, the senior citizen who had just entered the office.  No disrespect to the man.  I’m just trying to paint you an accurate picture.  I watched as he shuffled from the office door to the main desk.  They were about 15 feet apart from each other and it took him a full 2 minutes to get across the room.  His feet never left the floor.  They just kind of drug along, one after the other.

When he finally reached the desk, he slowly gazed in my direction and asked, “Are you a substitute too?”  Are you kidding me?  Am I a substitute too?  Insinuating that he was a teacher?  I immediately felt sorry for whatever teenagers had to put up with this old geezer for the day.  “Yes, I am,” I answered, as I watched him sign in.  He picked up a pen and his hand shook so much that I had to help him steady the page on which to write.  After about a minute, he had finished his signature, which was not even a little legible.

“Which classroom are you teaching in today?” he asked me.

“Room 501,” I replied.

“I know exactly where that is,” he said.  “You can follow me.”

Great!  Now I had to follow him to my room.  At his pace, I honestly didn’t know if I’d make it to my class before lunch.  Yes, I know this story comes across as me being shallow, but I honestly didn’t have the patience to deal with this at the time.  I needed to get to my classroom and prepare…not set the Guinness World’s Record for slowest walk down a high school hallway.  If that’s not a real record, then it should be.  We could be famous!

As we walked, we talked.  Believe me…we had the time!  The subjects ranged from the weather to sports to what our weekend plans were.  This is where it finally got interesting.  So for everyone who stopped reading the blog by this point…they’re missing out!  While my weekend plans included coaching my son’s football game and doing yard work, his plans literally stopped me in my slow-motion tracks.  He said he was going to be teaching some more on Saturday and Sunday.

“What are you teaching on Saturday and Sunday?” I innocently asked.

“Scuba diving,” he said.

I actually stopped walking at this point.  “You teach scuba diving?” I asked, incredulously.  Then I realized how condescending that sounded and tried again.  “You teach scuba diving…that’s fantastic.”  This time I phrased it as a statement with a goofy smile on my face.

“Yes sir,” he said.  “It’s what I love to do.  Your class is just down the hall and to the left.  Have a good day.”  And then he scooted off down an adjacent hallway.

Those six words he uttered changed everything for me.  “It’s what I love to do.”  In an instant, this man went from being a nuisance to being my hero.  When I first met him, all the way back 10 minutes ago, I thought to myself: I never want to end up like this.  You know…old and slow and irrelevant.  And after hearing him tell me that at his age, he is still doing what he loves to do, I realized that this is the kind of man I want to emulate.

It didn’t matter how slow of a pace he took, he loved scuba diving and was obviously still good enough to teach it.  We all have jobs, hobbies, interests or activities that we love to do.  There is no reason for any of us to not keep doing what we love, especially if it helps others in some respect.  Our passions…what we truly love to do…are gifts from God.  How we put them to use and how long we decide to use them are our gifts to the world.

I never caught this teacher’s name, but I hope to see him again soon.  And I sincerely hope he never reads this blog.