What Substitute Teaching Taught Me About Poetry, Kids, and Patience

Substitute teaching is not for the faint of heart.

You walk into a room where the students are sizing you up, the lesson plan may or may not make sense, and someone inevitably asks, “Are we doing anything fun today?” within the first thirty seconds.

For Dianne Rigby Wright, stepping back into the classroom after midlife upheaval wasn’t just a job, it became an unexpected classroom for her own growth. In My Ride Starting at 55, Wright returns to education during a season of reinvention, discovering that working with children sharpened her creativity, strengthened her resilience, and deepened her understanding of patience.

Here’s what the experience revealed.

Poetry Opens Doors Faster Than Authority

As a retired middle school teacher and lifelong rhyming poet inspired by Dr. Seuss, Wright found that verse could reach students in ways lectures couldn’t. When attention drifted or energy spiked, rhythm and rhyme cut through the noise.

Poetry made learning playful. It invited participation. It gave even reluctant students a way in.

Most importantly, it reminded her that connection matters more than control. When kids feel seen and entertained, they’re far more willing to listen.

Takeaway: Creativity builds bridges where authority alone can’t.

Kids Know Authenticity Instantly

Children are the most honest audience on the planet. They can tell when you’re nervous, pretending, or trying too hard.

Wright’s conversational, humorous style, the same tone that fills her memoir, became her superpower in the classroom. Instead of presenting herself as the all-knowing adult, she showed up as human. She laughed at mistakes. She told stories. She allowed vulnerability.

And the kids responded.

Takeaway: Show up as yourself. Authenticity earns trust faster than perfection.

Patience Is Learned in Real Time

No one masters patience in theory. You learn it when the copier jams, the class gets restless, or a carefully planned activity falls apart.

Substitute teaching placed Wright squarely in those moments again and again. Yet each challenge strengthened her ability to pause, breathe, and adjust. Flexibility became more valuable than control.

Midlife had already taught her that life rarely follows the script. The classroom simply reinforced the lesson.

Takeaway: Patience isn’t passive, it’s active adaptation.

Teaching Is Also Learning

While Wright came in to guide students, she left with new insights of her own. Kids taught her about changing social norms, new humor, and the evolving pressures young people face. They reminded her how powerful encouragement can be and how hungry students are for kindness and attention.

Their curiosity reignited hers.

Takeaway: The best teachers remain lifelong students.

Purpose Can Reappear When You Least Expect It

After divorce and relocation, substitute teaching gave Wright more than a paycheck, it restored a sense of meaning. In helping students write, read, and imagine, she reconnected with the part of herself that loved nurturing growth.

The classroom became proof that new beginnings don’t require brand-new talents; sometimes they come from rediscovering gifts you’ve always had.

Takeaway: Purpose often waits where passion and service meet.

Why This Matters Beyond the Classroom

You don’t have to be a substitute teacher to understand these lessons. Whether you’re navigating midlife change, starting over, or simply searching for renewed energy, Wright’s experiences show the power of creativity, authenticity, and perseverance.

Her time in the classroom becomes a metaphor for life itself: unpredictable, noisy, occasionally overwhelming and full of opportunities to connect and grow.

At an age when many people imagine stepping back, Dianne Wright stepped forward. Through poetry, children, and a daily practice of patience, she found not only a way to give, but a way to begin again.

And that may be the greatest lesson of all.

Read My Ride Starting at 55, now on Amazon.