By Abbie Loosemore
Abbie is a School Direct trainee Dunraven Secondary School in Streatham, London, part of the Sharing Excellence Partnership. She graduated two years ago from King’s College London with an English and Film degree. Before starting her teacher training, she spent a year working as a learning support assistant at her training school, an experience which confirmed her aspiration to become a teacher. After her training, she hopes to stay in London, as she finds the diversity and culture there inspiring.
I wake up and it begins. After a frantic search for my cup, I make myself a coffee and check through my emails and timetable for the day. I leave the house and begin my short, scenic walk to school. The leaves and brisk morning air spur me on, but then a gaggle of blue blazers spill out of the corner shop at the end of my road. “Good morning Miss!” they shout. The school day is officially underway.
I arrive at school and head to the office. It’s a typical English department office: GCSE texts sit in piles in the corner like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. An environmentally friendly group of patterned coffee cups sit on top of the filing cabinet, and an eclectic collection of water bottles in various shades protrude from every desk. I turn on the coffee machine, its whirring like a siren call to my colleagues, who come flooding in and begin talking about the day ahead.
With everyone suitably caffeinated, I discuss the lessons I have planned for today with my mentor or class teacher. In some lessons I team teach, and in others I teach on my own. The topics this term cover a range of literature — a nice mix for a trainee to try out.
I head to tutor time. After the register, I share the quiz I have planned; we have a termly competition and it’s getting quite heated now! I ask my tutor group how their subjects are going and we discuss the films we saw at the weekend.
After tutor time ends, I have a non-contact lesson (I dare you to call it ‘free’), so I head to the staff room to catch up on lesson planning and university work. The staff room is my favourite place in the school; you get the chance to talk to members of staff from other departments and share experiences and ideas.
I begin planning a lesson, and spot another trainee at a computer. I head over to see how they are getting on; their completed lesson plan glares at me from their screen the Holy Grail. Look at the font they have used! Everything looks so good! They’ve embedded videos, pictures AND animations! I head back to my computer feeling a little lost. This rivalry is natural as a trainee, but everyone works differently and at their own speed. Instead of feeling dejected, I am suddenly inspired and get on confidently with my own lesson.
Teaching begins. I head to my classroom, and set up ready for a lesson on Frankenstein. I let the students in. Wide-eyed and keen to learn, they sit down quietly and begin the starter. A picture of Boris Karloff in the film stares down at them from the board.
“Who is this?” I ask.
“Frankenstein’s Monster” they reply in unison.
Good, I think to myself, not all is lost.
I begin telling them about the context of the novel and Mary Shelley’s life. I tell them the story of the night Lord Byron dared Mary Shelley and the group to write a ghost story when staying in his house in Geneva.
“Where’s Geneva, Miss?” an inquisitive voice from the back calls out.
My heart stops. I’m in a blind panic. I’ve forgotten everything I’ve ever known. Where is Geneva? Why didn’t plan I for this? Why are they asking ME? Why don’t I know? I should know, why didn’t I look that up?
“Switzerland” another student calmly replies in a monotone voice.
Relieved at the intelligence of the future generation, I carry on with the lesson.
It is a common fear of trainee teachers to worry about subject knowledge or getting something wrong in front of a group of teenagers, but owning up and admitting you made a mistake will (almost) always guarantee you respect.
As I walk to the office for break time, a student runs up to me in the corridor.
“Miss, Miss is creative writing club on today?”
It’s great to see students enthused about writing and stories; it’s one of the best parts of teaching. I love seeing them being creative and escaping into imaginative worlds. It’s a lovely reminder of why I’m doing this, and it makes it all worth it.
Suddenly it’s lunch time, and we gather in the staff room for the daily show-stopping reveal of last night’s culinary creations. In the midst of recipe sharing and lunchbox envy, I remember that I have to print out resources for my double lesson in the afternoon. I head to the printer before the inevitable queue hits.
As the double lesson approaches I greet the students by the door as they enter the room lethargically. One of the hardest parts of being a trainee teacher is encouraging those students who don’t want to be there. You have spent hours and hours planning a lesson, and then they sit there with their heads on the desk, or looking out of the window.
I don’t expect them to say, “Wow Miss, what a lovely lesson, thank you so much,” or “This is an excellent worksheet — it must have taken you ages!” because teaching is a selfless job, but sometimes it’s hard.
However, there are many other moments that make it all worthwhile. I set a silent writing task, and some students are keenly scribbling away, while others stare at their paper begrudgingly. One student is finding it particularly difficult to make a start, so I go over and talk to them. As we discuss the task quietly together, they come up with some really insightful points. They smile, pick up their pen and start writing their answer.
It’s great to see students make progress at this early stage of my teaching career. At the end of the day when I’m at home, I smile just a little more each day and get ready to do it all over again.
