A full Jupiter cycle as a supply teacher — and the problem with easy narratives

When you call youself Principal Lamb and you are a headteacher (and social media influencer), I imagine you hear the mint sauce jokes more often than you would like. When you are an older woman with your hair pinned up and a surname vaguely reminiscent of a fictional tyrant, you get the Miss Trunchbull comparisons. When you are an astrologer working in education, you get the crystal ball remarks.

Teachers develop thick skins. It comes with the territory.

So when Principal Lamb recently posted that he had been unable to secure work as a substitute teacher after moving states — and framed the question, “Would you let me cover your class?” — I did not feel outraged. I felt reminded.

Reminded how quickly complex professional roles are reduced to easy narratives.

Substitute Teaching Is A Career Choice

A recent post by Principal Lamb asked whether he would be hired as a substitute teacher and suggested substitutes might not engage fully with students. Let me begin clearly: I admire Principal Lamb. I think he is a strong, visible, and often thoughtful school leader. That is precisely why this moment stood out to me. Because supply teaching — substitute teaching — is not ornamental work. And it is certainly not lesser teaching. And Principal Lamb is above fishing for compliments.

This is my eleventh year as a supply teacher. A full Jupiter cycle.

In that time, I have walked into hundreds of classrooms where I did not know a single child, a single parent, a single member of staff, or even the layout of the building — and taught lessons I did not plan.

Before I ever step into those rooms, I undergo enhanced Disclosure and Barring Service checks. I renew them. I complete regular safeguarding and child protection training. I stay current with statutory safeguarding guidance. It took approximately eight to nine weeks for my agency to clear me for work when I began. Even now, I wait my turn in a queue for bookings.

Supply teaching is not casual labour. It is highly regulated, highly scrutinised work.

I have been teaching for approximately thirty years. I trained as a secondary school teacher, but most of my current work is in primary education — which means I teach across the entire curriculum: English, Mathematics, Science, Religious Education, Physical Education, Personal, Social, Health and Economic education, and more.

Depth of Work and Experience

I have taught children with an age range of three to eighteen. There are not many full time teachers who can claim that.

Permanent teaching requires depth: longitudinal data, assessment tracking, parental relationships, and institutional embedding.

Supply teaching requires velocity.

You must establish authority instantly, without relational history.

You must assess behaviour rapidly, without context.

You must deliver curriculum content you did not design.

You must manage safeguarding concerns without knowing family backgrounds.

You must supervise Physical Education without full knowledge of medical histories.

You must read a room within minutes and stabilise it.

Is my marking as thorough as that of a permanent teacher? No. It cannot be. I do not have the longitudinal data in front of me. In fact, I miss that depth. Permanent colleagues can provide more tailored feedback because they have that knowledge.

But different does not mean lesser.

There is another reality that rarely gets discussed.

When a supply teacher raises concerns about behaviour, it is too easy for the response to be, “It’s just because they are supply.” The implication is that the issue lies with the temporary adult rather than with policy or follow-through.

I once wrote a detailed, multi-page end-of-day report about the behaviour of a ten-year-old whose conduct was genuinely dangerous. I later learned no sanction followed. No structural response was implemented. The child’s behaviour was effectively reinforced.

We’re Needed

Children are perceptive. They understand where authority sits. They understand when consequences are unlikely. Supply teachers often operate without the institutional leverage permanent staff hold — and yet we are expected to maintain the same standards.

We also frequently operate without union representation in any meaningful sense. Work comes through agencies. A complaint can affect bookings. There is no long-term institutional buffer.

Yes, there are advantages. I leave at four. I do not attend endless meetings. I do not carry marking home each night. I am not paid during school holidays. The pay is lower. The work is not guaranteed. The trade-off is flexibility, not ease.

Freedom is not the same thing as an easy life.

After thirty years in education, I choose supply teaching. It was not chosen for me. Schools are not doing me a favour when they book me. I bring three decades of experience, safeguarding vigilance, cross-curricular competence, and rapid situational awareness into rooms where I know no one — and I make it work.

A Jupiter cycle is about growth through experience and the expansion of reputation. Eleven years of supply teaching have sharpened me. They have made me faster, more observant, and more adaptable than any permanent post ever did.

If any teacher actually wants to teach when they’re puking, shitting and congested, then get on with it. Don’t be crying because someone with more experience is doing your job. And don’t be blaming us because your regular pupils treat your classroom like a clubhouse. You need to follow up on their behaviour on your return. Follow up on behaviour and the pupils will follow on your example.

Not “Just” a Supply Teacher

So yes — teachers endure easy jokes. About our names. About our accents. About our hair or our weight. About our subjects. About our roles.

But caricature is not competence.

Supply teaching sits at the intersection of flexibility and vulnerability. It is skilled work performed at speed, under scrutiny, and often without institutional protection. It demands judgement without history, authority without embedding, and responsibility without guarantee.

That is not lesser teaching. It is exposed teaching.

And exposed teaching requires courage.

If we are serious about professional dignity in education, then supply teachers must be recognised for what they are: experienced practitioners operating in high-risk, high-adaptability roles.

Respect should follow reality — not caricature.

Don’t look down on supply/substitute because we are less than you.

Please Sir.