“Schools like to try before they buy,” said the course coordinator on the first day of the degree. I strategically disbelieved her, seeing the notion of a school recruiting a student to its staff during placement as too good to be true. But then, on the last day of term, I received an email from my mentor teacher. It read: “can you come to the staff room right away?”
I talked to an administrator, who talked to the principal, who met with me on my first day back. “Sorry about the delay,” she said, “I was on the phone about a barbecue.” So we talked about barbecues, and living in the city, and the tiny Lutheran church near St Patrick’s cathedral, and I said “I’d be delighted,” and she said “I’ll organise the paperwork,” and I had a job.
As I left the office, I mumbled something about the value of working at a school at which I’d already had professional experience. “For you as well,” she agreed, though I’d meant myself.