Their Lives in my hands

Maggie Scott

I had lain awake most of the night going over my plans for the day. The alarm had been set half an hour earlier than needed, my clothes had been laid out ready. I had made a new red pinafore dress especially for the occasion in order to make an impact. I usually wore mini- skirts but this was what my granny called a 'decent' length.

Four years of learning, of practising, of reading and of preparation. The Big Day had finally arrived. The day I had longed for - my own classroom with my own pupils. I had been into school the previous few days preparing the classroom; the House Corner toys were in position, the animals in the toy farm had been washed, the jigsaws had all been checked for missing pieces and 'activities' had been set out on tables. I had gone over the class list, read the relevant social work and medical records and prepared my first lessons. I had made the name badges and prepared the coat hooks and place names with matching pictures. ... (continues)