three weeks in

mentor in hospital

mental year 9s


yet there’s comfort now

familiarity in faces

and places


not so lost




Here’s to jumping straight back into teaching more than a year after I left it.  Here’s to finally gaining my QTS status and to actually being a professional.  Here’s to a brand new teacher planner and full complement of matching stationery, meticulously labelled and ready for the off.

And here’s to stacks of pre-formed lesson plans to get into my head, and GCSE Assessment Objectives that I’m trying to learn off by heart, and wondering what the kids are like…

And here’s not yet knowing what I’ll get paid or when.

I mean, I know I’m going to be poor this year but it wouldn’t hurt a girl to know just how poor she will be…


Today I sat at the back of a series of cramped, dark, hot, crumbling classrooms and witnessed five lessons from the ‘centre of excellence’ in that county.  It was not, as promised, very excellent at all.

I think what dawned on me today, perched hour after hour behind rows of students glued to their laptops, is what high standards I held myself to in my last, unqualified classroom, and how much I learned by myself simply from doing the job.