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).

3 Comments

  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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