The first time I knew I wanted to be a teacher I was just three years old. I was at nursery, and was experiencing my first proper school dinner, in preparation for going to big school. On my plate was a strange green manifestation, grass like in its appearance. To me it was new, alien, scary. I was surrounded by the “proper” school children, alone in my anxiety and fear. I wanted to cry.

Just as I wanted to get up and run for the hills, a lovely, smiling lady walked over to me, placed her arm around me and said: “It’s only cress, Hannah. Give it a try. I like it.”

So I took the plunge and tried something different and new. That woman became my reception teacher, but on that day she was my best friend.

The first day of my first placement held many parallels with my first day eating cress. Once again I was new, surrounded by the proper school child, although this time, the proper school children were proper school teachers.

This time though I wasn’t at a table eating a new vegetable, I was standing around the coffee machine at morning briefing, shaking as I made coffee. Once again, I thought that I was going to cry.

To my delight, a lovely, smiling woman walked over to me and uttered the only words I wanted to hear: “It’s only teaching, Hannah. Give it a try. I like it.”