DM and I have been on a jolly today. It’s my “last day of freedom” before going into my new job on Monday morning. I will need to spend tomorrow preparing for my big day’s dawning. In fact though, the day has been half work because the reason we went where we did was because I am striving to be a good trainee and learn as much as possible about my subject.

We’ve been to Exeter for the day to see Michael Morpurgo give a talk. I must confess to never having heard of the man before about six weeks ago but I discovered that although I didn’t know him, I did know of a couple of his books. You must have spent the last year or more with your head in a bucket if you’ve not heard of “War Horse” and I’d seen “Private Peaceful” read aloud in the school I was working in before Christmas and after my exams. He has also been the Children’s Laureate.

I was thrilled to see that he looked like a human cross between Paddington Bear and Rupert Bear, decked out in stunning checked trousers, a duffel coat, a multi-coloured scarf and a satchel. He looked just as he should if you see what I mean. He is a very charismatic man and he charmed the children and adults in the audience with his stories. Although I have read only two of his books, “Cool” and “The Kites are Flying”, I am now determined to read some more, including “I believe in Unicorns”. His story of what motivated him to write that book was an inspiration in itself.

Anyway, then comes the shameful bit. Last week I attended a careers fair at Uni and one of its events was a lecture on “how to get your first job in teaching”. The presenter, a man with 40 years’ experience as a teacher and headmaster, asked the audience to put up their hand if they considered themselves a good teacher. Well, how could I do that with any sense of integrity? I have never yet stood in front of a class as a teacher so who am I to be so brazen as to consider myself good? He then lambasted us for not putting up our hands. He told us that we must, from here on in, declare that we are teachers and the fact that we are training is incidental.

So, Michael Morpurgo, a man as close to a god-like form as it’s possible to imagine, says “hands up if you are a teacher”, so I remembered my instruction from last week and put up my hand. He then asked us to stand up and the rest of the audience had to applaud us. Did I feel like the world’s biggest fraud? You betcha. I’m not even sure if the cap will ever fit and it certainly doesn’t feel comfortable now. The next four weeks will hopefully make me better able to put my hand up next time a deity asks me that question…otherwise I am sunk!