Some of the biggest headlines revolve around the teacher recruitment and retention crisis. A big part of this is the state of teacher training. And we don’t talk about it enough. 

When I began my course, myself and many students enquired as to the level of the course, as this was not stipulated in the programme information. The teaching staff (there were three of them) could not agree upon the level of the course, one suggesting it was a level 5, another level 6, the other had no idea. Great start.

Then came the placement. We were four months behind our scheduled placement start date due to the university’s inability to arrange these.

I was placed at my previous workplace, which turned out to be a catastrophic idea.

My mentor was nothing short of evil. She did not provide even one of the obligatory one-hour mentoring sessions to support me. During normal lessons, when she would casually observe me, her feedback was positive. However, when the formal observations came round she proceeded to ridicule my performance, each time providing the exact same feedback.

At first, I was distraught, thinking that my teaching performance was inadequate, and I considered leaving the profession. However, after receiving three of exactly the same feedback sheets, I became highly critical and sought help from a colleague, who provided me with an invaluable tool: a learner voice feedback form used to receive feedback from students. This was formulated from extensive research into what constitutes an outstanding lesson and based upon John Hattie’s work. After my next observation, I asked the class to complete the form (my mentor had already left the room). The feedback I received resulted in the lesson gaining an outstanding grade (the scores are tabulated and put into an Excel programme, calculating its efficacy).

Victimised by mentors

Needless to say, I received the same feedback from my mentor, stating that, “I think you lost them in the first five minutes.” Upon presenting this class feedback to my mentor, all I received was silence. She did not know what to say. I calmly told her that she would no longer be mentoring me.

I sought assistance from my university staff. The head of the course told me to “play the game” and essentially get on with it. My tutor completely disregarded my issues and sided with my mentor. He did nothing to help my situation. On the contrary, when I had a tutorial with him, he literally screamed at me for not having a hard copy of my professional performance portfolio ready for him to view (I had everything saved to USB, the wonders of technology). Why would I when no such requirement was ever stipulated, the work in the portfolio was constantly changing and I did not have the finance to print or reprint 500 pages of work?

I did not complete my PGCE that year, and instead had to complete it the year after. I was again appointed a tutor who proved to be very difficult. I eventually completed the course during my second year.

Meanwhile, some of my fellow students had had permission from their tutor to literally write up their own observation records, self-proclaiming themselves as developing from “good” to “outstanding”. Their tutors signed off the forms they had written themselves. Another colleague had written up the observation records and forged the signatures himself. My two years on the course were the last two years the course ran. I believe this to be part of the reason why such poor practices took place.

Sadly, such poor practices are not constrained to this course alone. I know of someone going through similar events with her mentor during her PGCE year. This mentor would not miss any opportunity to ensure that she failed, much like my mentor.

My training experience was nothing short of a psychological horror story, the kind where the innocent party is made to feel guilty only to find out they were right all along. I know of many other individuals who have had similar experiences. Unfortunately, I do not have the capacity to write about them here, nor the full extent of my story.

The whole teacher recruitment and retention fiasco is missing a major point: the need to provide teachers with an outstanding teacher training experience at the outset. If we cannot invest properly in teacher training and provide appropriate training, then how can we expect to develop teachers who want to begin and who want to stay, let alone excel at their chosen profession?

The writer is a supply teacher in the South West of England