Beyond the Basics: Super Subs Bring the Arts to Underserved Kids
These unusual substitute teachers offer a day of curriculum-expanding fun to schools -- free.
School of Rock:
Super Subs Rob Wolin (left) and Bob Barboza jam for a student audience.
Credit: Donna Hyatt
Professional drummer and drum instructor Ronnie Ciago is up on the
stage of the Little Theater at La Puente High School, in La Puente,
California, near Los Angeles. Without preamble, he sits down at his
drum set and runs through a crashing, rocking riff that stuns to
silence the twenty or so kids in the class.
When he stops, the kids whistle, whoop, and clap. As the noise dies
down, Ciago's colleague, Bob Barboza, begins his lesson on world
rhythms, with Ciago poised to demonstrate.
Not Your Average Substitutes
If this doesn't sound like a typical class, that's because it isn't.
These aren't your typical teachers; they are substitutes. And they
aren't your typical substitute teachers, either -- they're Super Subs.
The brainchild of Barboza, a retired teacher, the Super Subs program
is a way to bring arts and music to underserved students. Barboza
recruited a group of friends -- some of whom once played together in a
semiprofessional band -- to be the subs. At first, the idea was to give
back to schools in the community where they all grew up. But after
experiencing success at their local schools, they decided to take their
show on the road.
Here's how it works: Barboza and the twenty other musicians,
artists, writers, and designers he's recruited take over classes for
the day. They teach their own brand of music, art, writing, journalism,
and self-esteem. The visits don't cost schools a dime. The Personal News Network,
a social-media Web site run by one of the Super Subs, picks up the tab,
and most of the Super Subs volunteer their time. (Find out how to bring
the Super Subs to your school by visiting the Super Subs page at the Personal News Network.)
An Antidote to Teaching to the Test
The day the Super Subs visit La Puente starts like any other. All
the students attend their usual first-period classes. For the hundred
or so kids in the school's Multilingual Academy (for English-language
learners) and Folklorico programs, though, everything changes when the
second-period bell rings. Their teachers have arranged a Super Sub day
for them.
Chorus Line:
Students and teachers sing and dance as the Super Subs rock the crowd at a midday concert.
Credit: Lauren Elliott
They meet the day's ten visiting Super Subs in the auditorium for an
orientation and introductions, then head to classes held in the
theater, the library, and three classrooms. While Barboza is
investigating rhythms, a professional dancer and choreographer from Las
Vegas is teaching street moves in the auditorium. In a classroom
between the two, a guitar-playing sub talks about math and music while
another, a professional motivational speaker, winds up the class by
talking about dreams and aspirations.
English teacher Noel Martinez says the Super Subs' visit is a treat
for his English-language learners, who are liable to think of school as
something to endure rather than enjoy. "It brings in different voices,
showing them that other professions are available to them," he
explains. "It's not coming from their regular teachers, and it's not
from their parents, so maybe they'll listen."
"It takes a variety of media to reach everyone -- we just have to
find the right hook," comments Nancy Gibson, the teacher responsible
for the Super Subs's La Puente visit. "Our kids don't necessarily get
experiences like this. You know how when you think back to high school,
there were a few days when something happened that you really remember
as being great? I want this to be one of those days for these kids."
Students Find Their Voices
Two doors down from the motivational speaker, Super Sub Caren Singer
is instructing her students to write. She gives them blank journals and
tells them to write something every day. When this direction gets a
lukewarm response, she asks them, "Who here has experienced terror?"
Ernesto, a junior in a bright blue shirt, is the only one to raise his
hand.
When she asks what it was like, he speaks down to the table, but she
hears him and shouts, "Yes! It made you feel cold, and your throat
closed up, and you couldn't speak or move. Yes!" When she adds, "One
time, I was so scared I peed my pants," a ripple of amusement passes
through the room.
She hands around bottles of scent and asks the students to think of
words they associate with the smell. "Think of a season, think of a
color, think of a sound," she exhorts. As the kids call out words, she
writes them on the board.
A smart aleck at the back of the room says, "Underwear," making
everyone snicker, but Singer just responds with a serious tone, "That's
brilliant, very creative, good." Not getting a rise out of her, the
would-be joker gives up and gets back on task.
Once she has the lists of words for the various scents on the board,
Singer asks the students to put the words together into a poem.
Embarrassed grumbling results. "Trust yourself," she says. "There is no
right or wrong." When she reads out the poems the students have
written, the Super Sub exclaims over each unusual juxtaposition. By the
time the class is over, most of the kids are writing, writing, writing,
and they want to show her everything they've written.
When the bell rings, Singer returns to her stated objective for the
class: "I would like you to walk out of here today with a vision of
yourself as a writer." As they each clutch a journal and file out to
the next Super Sub class, it's possible that's exactly what the
students are thinking.
Later, after a lunchtime concert by the Super Subs that leaves the
impressed students asking for autographs, Ernesto -- the student who
spoke up during Singer's writing class -- reflects on the experience.
"My dad is a janitor at UCLA," he says, "but I want to do something
better, do well in school and go to college."
The message of the day, that you can achieve what you aspire to
achieve, is not news to him, but he says the way it was presented was
entirely different. "They did it with music and it was . . . wow," he
states. "This is the first time in three years here I've seen anything
like this." Then he smiles widely and adds, as though he invented the
idea, "You learn better when you're having fun."
Elizabeth Crane is a freelance writer in San Francisco who writes about many things, including education, parenting, technology, and food.
This article originally published on 7/23/2008
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