Help I’ve Accidentally Become A Teacher.

‘I’m not really sure how I’ve got here,’ seems to be the main thought scrambling my brain at the moment. Last time I checked, I was the queen of the all-nighter, breaking up my three in the morning essay sesh with glasses of wine watching my grammar slip beyond repair, and now I spend most of my evenings looking up essay plans on Pinterest. I know people say that when you get older time just gets quicker but this is ridiculous.

It was the same sort of confusion that I remember experiencing at my Teach First Assessment Centre. There I was in the ‘interview clothes’ I picked up in a mad rush at Sainsbury’s the night before, sitting in a lovely office in Greenwich drinking tea like it was about to be rationed with a group of lovely girls all going through the same process. I remember feeling a bit of a fraud. They were all talking about how they had wanted to be teachers since they were kids, had been on the waitlist for two years, or girls who hadn’t been successful the year before and were trying again. I ended up here because I had a bit of a meltdown about what I wanted to do with my life and saw the programme as a bit of a win-win: earn money, do my bit for Britain’s youth, why not? Anyway, I probably wouldn’t even get my application accepted.

Then everything seemed to happen very quickly from the moment I sent my application off, three days later my application was accepted, two weeks later I was doing my assessment centre, and then I just kept on ticking things off the list and soon enough was fully accepted and enrolled and now I’m here, a month away from starting my training.

Now all this ‘feeling like a fraud’ isn’t to say that I didn’t want it, in fact with every stepping stone I reached in the process, I started to panic a little more over the result, every extra day I waited to hear back about my result was a little more painful and when I did hear back about finally being enrolled, I strangely  found myself ugly crying because ‘I’m… just …so…happy.’ (insert horrific sobs.)

And now, just four months away from September where I will be called ‘Miss,’ for a good 2/3rds of my day, I feel more excited and enthused about the opportunity I applied for on a bit of a whim. Having people look at you and think that you would be good enough to handle a position of such responsibility is actually quite life-affirming, and gives you the extra bit of confidence that you lacked to say ‘I want to be a teacher,’ in the first place.

So whilst I have so much respect for those amazing girls I met in Greenwich, who thankfully all got accepted as well, who made it their goal to be teachers since childhood it doesn’t mean that my place on the course was worth any less because I just so happened to fall into it a little later. I may still question why the hell I’m here in the upcoming few months but my answer will be, ‘because I bloody well deserve it!’ Because now I want to be the best teacher I can be more than anything.

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