My First Week at School

I was late (not actual late, more teacher-perfectionist OCD late).

I wore new clothes.

I used my new pen, stamper and stickers, and got incredibly excited about it.

I did a little whoop at my new shiny laptop.

I got incredibly excited that the canteen had free apple crumble and custard, and didn’t even think about the imminent weight gain of the next nine months.

I thoroughly enjoyed meeting every single new person I came across, big and small.

I re-arranged my classroom.

I tutted at the chewing gum left under tables.

I walked around the morning before all the kids came back, making the most of the empty corridors.

I exchanged secret excited grins with a teacher on the first morning as the bus park began to fill and all you could hear was teenage babble.

I used my teacher stare. It worked.

I got every so slightly freaked out at the fact that when I asked for people to listen, a whole class of children immediately turned their eyes my way, and listened.

I remembered names.

I forgot them again.

I sighed internally at the thought of three Ellies in one classroom, and tried to think of funny ways for my own brain to remember them individually. I failed.

I made jokes.

They were awful, and I definitely saw a Y9 roll her eyes.

I didn’t care (I would have last year, a little bit).

I emailed my first parent. 

I wrote my name on the board, and children wrote my name on their books. You understand.

I got nervous. Every single lesson.

I cannot WAIT to do it again next week.

I’m hoping that this is how it always feels (optimist).


  1. It does always feel like this and anyone who tries to say it doesn’t has started to lose or has already lost their teaching mojo. A wonderful post that is not optimistic but true to what being a teacher is about.

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