End of Term Report

So, today was my last day at my first school. I cleared out my inbox this afternoon before handing back my laptop and came across an email I’d sent my course leader at the end of my first day - “I love it - can tell I’m going to have a great time here. Thanks x.” (Keen much?) I can’t remember my first day now to save my life, but evidently I enjoyed it. And carried on enjoying it - I have had an amazing time at that school. I will miss all the pupils (well… most) and the staff (note to self: don’t start telling them all they’re my new best friends after a few too many shots tonight).

But, because I have a habit of [read: 'obsession with'] sorting things into lists, I thought I’d pick a few key bits and sort them into the highs and lows of my first PGCE placement.

Lows:

• Nothing major came to mind immediately here. I was genuinely all set up to hate the PGCE year, to have a rough time and spend every morning reminding myself that the end would be worth it, and just work through the rough times - but so far that’s not happened. You read so many horror stories the summer before you start, but no one tells you that actually, you can have fun! My first term certainly hasn’t ground me down - I have *loved* teaching and am certain that I’ve made the right choice. I’ve had a few nights where I’ve worked until 6pm and that’s it. I’ve had half-term and all my weekends to concentrate on my horse and having fun - the odd week, my drunken evenings have outnumbered my sober ones. I also don’t think I’ve ever really worked at the weekend. (Next term, when the pressure ups, might prove a bit of a culture shock!)
• In my first ever lesson with year 8, one of them asked if I had sex toys/whether I’d use them in front of the class. Admittedly, that disturbed me. But much worse (I thought) in the same lesson was the boy who turned to me after I told him to work, stared me straight in the eyes and said, “no. Make me.” That upset me much more! Actually, it reduced me to tears after the class had left. Whilst I now think is just ridiculous, but at the time I was really shocked! I just have never come across people who don’t want to do well, which I guess is because throughout my own education I was surrounded by people who knew they would be lawyers, bankers, teachers, doctors, architects: until meeting this pupil, I’d just never come across anyone with no drive.
• Having a year 10 boy throw bits of his lunch at you is also quite disturbing. But in hindsight, it’s quite comical (fortunately he missed, otherwise he’d have found himself missing a few fingers. And various other body parts.).
• There was a point about a week ago where my confidence dropped a bit. I stood in front of my classes and though, “why on earth should they listen to me?” Again though, I was lucky enough to be in a department which is all about support and I got over myself.

Highs.

• It is just awesome. One adrenaline buzz after another. I have a real thing for adrenaline rushes and I love it when things are moving really quickly: term one has done just that.
• The department I was in was super. Absolutely amazing - I thought in a department of 8 there was bound to be one or two people that I clashed with (even if not openly) but that wasn’t the case at all. They were simply a lovely bunch of people. I will miss them, and it’s a bit weird to think that whilst I admire them and they will all be a strong part of my memories of becoming a teacher, from their perspective I’m just joining the list of “Which one was that again?” Maybe I should have slashed my necklines and bought a few outrageous Secret Santa presents to make sure I’d be remembered…
• The kids. Year 8, who initially made me want to hide in the cupboard with a sniper gun at the keyhole, turned out to be, I think, my favourite class. No joke. They were energetic and (mostly) incredibly enthusiastic. Even those who were rude had the decency to be witty with it - apart from one or two, who were just not of this planet. We fell out and made up again several times in every lesson - and, surprising myself, I quite enjoyed that. I wouldn’t, however, want to be the one responsible for their GCSE results.
• This is a feature of that specific school more than teaching, but I loved the fact that most of the kids ride horses - a great way in to conversation. Talk to them about their horses or the ones they ride, tell them about yours and you go up at least five levels in their estimation. Show them a picture and it’s ten; throw in a few stories of past exploits and you’re off the scale altogether.
• Kids say the best things. (I realise this would all be better in paragraphs rather than bullets, but I started with that format and it matches the previous list so I’ll stay with it). They just make you laugh, all the time - “Miss X? You’ve addressed this card to my initials - is that supposed to be cool or something?” “No Miss, none of us could spell your surname and we forgot to ask Sir before you arrived.” Ermm, right, year 10. My surname is not that tricky. It’s probably up there with Smith and Jones in terms of ease of spelling. Or the 16 year old who announced to his class, “I’m going up north for my holidays.” “Whereabouts?” “Bath.” Classic. That’s going to be my hometown next time a pupil tells me I sound Northern.

There’s so much more I could say about my initial experiences of the PGCE, but I’ve rushed the above as it is - I have a horse who needs lungeing and I’m so looking forward to being out with him during the day, rather than after school when it’s dark and I’m rushing to get home to make dinner…