Despite the perception that there is a crisis in teacher recruitment, there is an excitement about this time of year as many hopeful graduates begin a year of teacher education. For them, a palpable nervousness about what they’re about to undertake is only partially alleviated by that shared experience of the first few weeks at college. It’s easy to forget that feeling: just like experienced drivers, we often shut out those early memories of our first days on the road, the overwhelming realisation that this is a very serious thing we’re about to do, and worries about what might happen if we fail.

There will, no doubt, be student teachers wandering around your school at the moment, or very soon, looking terrified and lost. It’s an intimidating experience to be hurtled back to what was, for me anyway, the scene of a particularly traumatic time in one’s life.

One of my teaching placements was in the school I attended, and it hadn’t changed much. I felt sick going back there, and that feeling didn’t go away. I wandered the corridors expecting ghosts at every turn. So I feel a little bit of sympathy for the new guys starting out on what could be a long and challenging career, many of whom perhaps haven’t been in a school since their own schooldays.

Having been a student mentor for more than a decade now, I’ve tried to assure them that those feelings of nervousness are a very natural reaction to entering any new profession, and my work with them takes that into consideration. Working in such a large secondary school, I often forget how intimidating that can be for anyone new to our building, experienced or not, and the sight of 1,700 young people spilling out for lunch can be the Hollywood B-movie stuff of nightmares.

So don’t underestimate the importance of being around for these student teachers at those times of greatest stress. I make the point of taking a walk around the school most days, and take time to chat with those I meet along the way. Doing that provides a perspective on the school day that we often miss when our classroom doors are closed.

It’s also a great way of seeing pupils out of the classroom environment: recognising them and being recognised by them; chatting to pupils from previous years or perhaps those I’ve never taught; developing those relationships that we count on so much when we get back to class. I see fantastic wall displays in other departments, read news of extracurricular activities. I even meet the occasional member of the senior management team.

I feel much more a part of the school - and that’s a good thing to pass on to student teachers. Informal learning is essential in finding your way in a school.

When we stop to chat, we begin to realise that the corridors are often excellent, but undervalued, places for informal learning in schools. So, on a student teacher’s first day, I take a walk around the school with the new recruit. During a recent 10-minute stroll, I was able to introduce one student to four members of staff, none of whom I see as often as I’d like. Each spoke of projects in which they were involved or extracurricular clubs they were running that week. That the student teacher was a bit overawed by all of the information he had to take in merely reminded me what an incredibly complex learning environment a school is and how the corridors are the areas that connect us.

We might forget that, the longer we teach in the same school. But those connections are the lifeblood of the organisation, and reflect the true nature of a school; they are where we see the behaviour of the students, the patience of teachers, the presence of senior management. We might also see posters for clubs, examples of students’ work, news of upcoming events. As a student mentor, it is important to make this clear to new teachers. Even if it gets them out of the staffroom for a while (or the staff base, as you may now call it).

The staffroom is a much-missed phenomenon in some schools in Scotland. New buildings went up without them, instead providing us with departmental staff bases. Conspiracy theorists might say that was deliberate as part of a “divide and conquer” strategy, but I couldn’t possibly comment.

What is clear from speaking to those in new buildings is that staff morale and ethos have never been the same. Stolen moments in the corridor are as much as I see of members of staff to whom I used to be very close. There just isn’t the time any more, is there?

Is it worth finding the time? Of course it is. We can be a very isolated profession at times, closing our doors to the outside world when our lessons begin. For our own benefit, we need to make those connections and keep them strong.

If you are a student teacher reading this, then make sure you take the time - probably every day - to go for a walk through the corridors. It may surprise you how much that connection to other parts of the school informs and helps you in becoming a teacher.

As for me?

Well, I may complain about litter and indiscipline in the corridors at times - but taking a walk on the wild side might just mean I begin to do something about it. As perhaps we all should.

Kenny Pieper is a teacher of English in Scotland