I want to teach English and Media Studies in the post-compulsory sector and subjects covered on my PGCE course so far include teaching methods, learning styles, educational goals and how to write a decent lesson plan.

I’ve already taught two sessions to my fellow students and next week I will well and truly be thrown in at the deep end when, under the watchful eye of an experienced mentor, I start teaching A-level and HND courses at a local FE college.

I feared my teaching career might be put on hold when three months after applying, I still hadn’t received my disclosure certificate from the Criminal Records Bureau. Why? Because the CRB couldn’t get its head round the fact that although I’m married I still use my maiden name. They rang me twice and wrote me a stern letter, but when I remarked that it’s quite common for married women to keep their maiden names these days, I was told they’d never come across such a thing before.

I’m looking forward to my placement. My perceptions of teaching have come a long way since the start of the course, when I assumed that teachers still stood at the front of the class and lectured “chalk and talk” style.

With the zeal of a new convert, I’m obsessed with creating icebreakers, fun activities, role-play exercises, you name it, for prospective students. The cold light of reality only dawned when a down-to-earth lecturer asked us novices what we’d do if students texted, spat or sucked lollipops in our lessons. Most of us looked completely blank. Surely they wouldn’t do anything like that. Would they?

The 40 students on my course include recent graduates in their early 20s and lawyers, health workers and computer programmers in their 30s and 40s. Everyone is very keen, hardworking and highly motivated. As well as existing on the government’s pound;6,000 bursary and a student loan, we have all committed ourselves to 135 hours of lectures and up to 200 hours teaching over the year. This doesn’t include private study, lesson planning, tutorials and, I don’t know if I’m expecting too much here, a life outside college.

Before the course started, I blithely assumed I could combine my studies with writing, but the workload is so heavythat I’m growing doubtful.

So what made me do it? Partly because I’ve had fantastic teachers over the years and I’d like to put something back. Partly because I fancied a new challenge. And partly because - seasoned teachers may chortle at my naivety - I thought it might fit in with my own children’s schooling.

The other students on the course seem as overwhelmed by the workload as I am. I’ve just handed in my latest assignment, a portfolio running to more than 30 closely-typed pages of essays, handouts, acetates, lesson plans and schemes of work.

Apart from the sheer volume, the work itself isn’t as daunting as I’d feared. Not yet, anyway. But I’m at a loss to understand the teaching profession’s emphasis on self-evaluation and reflective practice.

Lesson plans, for instance, must always be accompanied by rationales for the chosen teaching methods. Tutor and student feedback on lessons has to be repeatedly scrutinised and analysed. Action plans for future teaching must be drawn up.Is there any other profession where you sit down at the end of a working day and fill in a self-evaluation form?

Teaching textbooks are full of sample forms asking if you think your aims and objectives have been fulfilled and whether the seating and lighting were up to scratch.

I’m all for learning from experience and striving to do better next time round but in a profession that’s already weighed down with paperwork it seems mad to create yet more forms to fill in.

Perhaps in time I’ll learn to love the whole concept of self-evaluation. But as someone whose previous experience of reflective practice was a news editor yelling at me to pull my socks up or else, I somehow doubt it.