So it says in the Lord's Prayer. This being so, why oh why do Catholic schools insist upon their sixth form girls continuing to wear skirts? Even worse they'e allowed to not wear tights. The upshot of this is that there's far too much leg in my Year 12 class.

I'm the consumate professional of course (unlike Becca from Hollyoaks) so would hope that I'm beyond temptation, but I really don't think that they're playing fair. After all I am only human.

I have other concerns in this area, such as:

It's okay to smile back at a pupil if they smile at you, but if they flick their hair and smile and you smile back, is that flirting?

I'm going to work in a school without a sixth form, then life would be much easier.

At my currect placement school there is another student from a different university completing a teaching practice.

This is bad news for me. At my previous school I could get away with making the occasional slip because there was no one to compare me against, except for a highly inept student with the science department. In short I came out smelling of roses.

Unfortunately the student at my new school seems highly competent so I'm going to have to pull out the stops to make sure I don't come across as the inept one.

So when the 'tone' went to signify the end of the school day I had to keep working until four o' clock to make sure I didn't leave before her and give opportunity for the maths department to say "oh, look. She's still there, planning away but he's gone home. Let's give him a 4 for 'Professional Values and Practice.'"

It's going to be a long placement.

After wearing a suit for the past two days my neck has broken out in a rash.

I never considered myself particularly smart but nevertheless I'm shocked to find that I'm actually allergic to being all dressed up.

As a non-believer I'm currently acclimatising to life in a Catholic school. It's a bit strange but there are some things I like.

For instance the school doesn't believe in 'gifted and talented' because in the eyes of the Lord all children are gifted and talented. Wonderful though this sentiment is, He can't have focused His eyes too long on the year sevens I taught at my first placement as I doubt they could even spell 'gifted and talented'.

Today was my first day at my second placement. Upon arriving at what I believed to be the school I was confronted by what looked much like a modern housing estate.

I was most reassured, given that I knew I was looking for a Catholic School, to spot a stained glass window depicting that champion of sheperds, Jesus Christ himself. In some ways you could say that he shepherded me towards the school. However in a great many other ways you could argue that this role was played by the signposts.

As someone who hasn't so much as stepped inside a church for a good four or five years I was quite alarmed when at the staff briefing they started saying the Lord's prayer. I looked down and sort of tried to move my mouth in sequence with everyone else. I was petrified that I would be 'found out' and everyone would point at me and cry out "Heathen!" Thankfully this didn't happen.

The contrast in the pupils from my previous placement was fairly significant. For a start they were all wearing blazers, which was yet another surprise as I thought they'd been uninvented twenty years ago. Secondly I don't think I saw any fake adidas. Well, it's just not a school without some two stripes.

Already I miss my old school, and found myself wondering why no fifteen year olds were scowling at me. It wasn't the same.

Because I'm a great big swot and have read plenty of academic articles I now know plenty about teaching practices (though, alas, not how to apply them).

One such practice would be creating a 'conjecturing atmosphere' to do this you must not use controlling questions, because this leads to pupils answering mathematical questions by trying to second guess the response you're after rather than considering the answer they'd like to give. Examples of controlling questions would be:
'Is that hwo we talk to each other in thsi classroom?'
'Is that appropriate language for school?'
'Is pretending to have tourettes acceptable?'
'Is jumping up and down on the table going to do it any good?'
etc...

So when my housemate showed me a picture of one of her friends and said 'do you think she's pretty?' I floundered as I tried to think of the right answer and my mind drifted...

How could this situation have been better set up?

Would I be better able to answer if women didn't always respond so curtly if you get it wrong?

Is she pretty anyway?

Would anyone notice if I just got up and left?

In the end I did what most of my pupils so in such situations. I shrugged my shoulders and mumbled a "dunno, yeah, whatever."

Me and a group of other people on my course bought some tickets for the big draw. With my share of the winnings I would finish my PGCE and then set to work helping out children at schools in disadvantaged areas... or jack it all in and blow the cash on fast cars and women.

One of the two.

No, not what you need after a long drawn out lesson with year 8, but 'Gifted and Talented'. In our university session today we learnt (learned? No it's definitely learnt, right? I'm glad my literacy skills test is out of the way) about what schools do for gifted and talented pupils then tackled some questions designed said pupils.

I gave a great demonstration of geekyness in my enthusiasm for answering the questions.

Oh no! My secret was out, how will my colleagues ever look at me the same way again?

I visited a 'nice' school today for a seminar about the first year of teaching. I entered the school gates as the pupils were all leaving and it was such a shock to the system compared to my first placement. I was almost saying things like:

"Hey you, why aren't you smoking?"

"That tie needs slacking."

"Run, don't walk."

"Don't watch where you're going, and do try harder to knock me off my feet."

"Less of the eloquent, well considered language."

Because I'm a good little boy I managed to finish my assignment (due in tomorrow) in good time. The only problem I have is that I can't be bothered to check it. Presumably if there are any mistakes they aren't major. For instance, I find it hard to imagine I accidentally filled one paragraph with profanities without noticing.

It's got me wondering though. If I find it so boring that I can't be bothered to read it through, what about the person marking it? My best chance is that they fall asleep with boredom, drool on the assignment then feel so guilty that they give me top marks.

Can but hope...

My Mentor and another teacher were giving me advice about interviews:

Mentor: “Make sure you don’t leave it too late to apply because it will make you look like you’re not really bothered.”

Okay, got it apply as soon as possible.

Teacher: “But don’t apply too soon because it’s usually crap schools that are advertising at the moment.”
Er, so apply soon, but not before Easter, but maybe before that?

Teacher: “Try to not intimidate the pupils if you’re asked to teach a lesson. Take off your jacket, oh! And roll up your sleeves.”

Okay, roll up those sleeves, I can do that.

Mentor: “ooo, but if you do that it might seem too informal, you don’t want to give that impression when you’re being watched otherwise they’ll wonder what you’ll be like when you’re not.”

Right, roll up my jacket sleeves perhaps?

That's definitely the last time I ask for any advice.

I was showered with gifts from the department on my final day, including an egg timer to improve my time management during lessons. Great though that is, unfortunately it won't help me in situations when I have the pupils all ready to go five minutes early because 'I thought the lesson finished at ten to.'

(Not that that happened a good five or six times)

My first placement is now over, I doubt I'll ever forget all the memories. Like when...

... a pupil turned up drunk

... a pupil called me a wxxxer

... I didn't have a room to teach my Year 7s in

... two pupils had a fight during my lesson

... I said the f-word at chess club, then followed it up by saying 'crap'

And all the times when the pupils didn't have a clue what I was talking about or said I wasn't a proper teacher or just wouldn't shut the hell up or told dirty jokes.

In spite of all that I'll genuinely miss the place, I even felt quite choked during my last lesson with the dopey Year 7s, bless 'em.

For my next placement I'm being sent to a Roman Catholic school. If I can manage until June without singing Monty Python I'll deserve some kind of medal.

I hope I don't have to take mass.

Though communion would be okay.

A pupil asked me what I got for Christmas.

Me: "Oh, a few CDs and DVDs, the usual sort of stuff."

Ignorant pupil: "What CDs did you get?"

Me: "Er, the Clash, Led Zep, lots of old stuff."

Ignorant pupil: "Who?"

Me: "What?"

Ignorant pupil: "Who are they?"

Me: "You don't know who the clash or Led Zeppelin are?"

Ignorant pupil: "No."

I despair. How are we supposed to teach them anything when they don't even know what Led Zeppelin are? There's just no hope with some people.

You have to love kids sometimes. Well, love them in the sense you love a TV show or a particular pair of trainers. Not the other love. You definitely don't have to do that.

I was back at school today for research - or dossing as some call it, namely me - and one boy who I'd taught last term shouted out "Alright Sir!" and then went on to explain to his friend how much fun they'd had in my class trying to wind me up and cause chaos. I'm glad someone enjoyed it because I'm not sure I found it much fun.

The thing was that he bore absolutely no nastiness or apparent dislike towards me. They just seemed to think it was some sort of game.

Sigh. I prefer scrabble.

I was booked in to take my QTS ICT Skills test this evening at 7pm.

I was back home by 645.

This isn't boasting (well, I suppose technically it sort of is) merely a reflection that to my computer literate generation - complete with repetitive strain injury from tapping playstation controllers - using ICT is no more difficult than breathing or growing fingernails.

So easy that it actually takes negative amounts of time to do tests. Seeing as I have assignments to do I might have to see if they'll let me do it again and again and again and again...

I keep having nightmares about teaching the year 8s I took last term. There include:

1. Turning up without a lesson plan and giving them some Chirstmas trees to colour in (I wonder where the inspiration for that dream came from?)

2. Pupils repeatedly saying they "don't get it". I think that one may be based on reality

3. Being unable to write the owrds coordinates on the board. The pen worked fine but every time I tried to write it I kept writing something else, possibly to do with ducks, I'm not entirely sure.

I blame this on the fact that the class included a number of evil students and my eating of cheese and biscuits after dinner.

Last night I was talking to someone at a party and inevitably the subject of "what do you do?" came up. I told them that I was training to teach maths. I braced myself for the usual "Urrrgghh. I think I'm going to be sick. My god, what were you thinking?!" But instead they said: "I liked maths at school." Even after I'd pointed out that maths was the one with all the numbers they persisted with this claim. I could have hugged them, except for the fact that they looked about sixteen or seventeen and that's exactly the sort of thing that makes some teachers _bad_ people.

Even so I can now start the count of people who weren't completely and utterly psychologically scarred by mathematics. It current stands at:

1 (one)

Less than two weeks after finishing for Christmas I find myself preparing to go back to school. After three years at university where holidays last for as long as a Channel 4 "100 greatest...." show this is completely unacceptable. Tut, who said teachers have it easy?