I felt a creeping sense of new-kid fear on day one at my new school, despite having a wealth of experience under my belt. My CV includes 11 years of English teaching, a few as a head of year and, most recently, a whole-school teaching and learning leadership role. I was reasonably self-assured. I knew what I was doing, I’d worked in some challenging settings over the years and I’d read the school handbook. This would be fine.

As my new Year 9 form group filed calmly in past me, I greeted them at the door wearing a facial expression that I hoped said: “I’m new, but I’m not new-new. OK?”.

The unfamiliar bell sounded and I noticed a pupil shuffling towards me, carrying (rather than wearing) his jumper. This was it: my first opportunity to establish my authority.

“Good morning, please put your jumper on before you come in.” I noticed my voice was tight. Nasal. My nerves were betraying me.

“Teachers here aren’t bothered about jumpers,” came the reply as he made to move past me.

I turned to see 26 pairs of eyes on me, anticipating my next move. Against all of my experience and knowledge screaming at me to assertively nip this in the bud and stick to the policy I had memorised the previous evening, I froze. In a truly novice-style misstep, I didn’t trust my instincts.

I felt like I was back at the beginning of my PGCE: a startled deer frozen in the path of an oncoming, incorrectly attired truck. Although admittedly minute in the grand scheme of things, it was the first of a multitude of moments of uncertainty to follow, all of which exemplified the crisis of confidence an experienced teacher can feel in a new school. It got me thinking: why don’t we do more to support experienced teachers in new settings?

All good leaders help new staff to assimilate, but the level of support tends to correlate with how many years you have been in the job. Newly qualified teachers get the most, a 25-year veteran the least.

As an experienced teacher, there is often an assumption that you can be largely left to it. But while being trusted to get on with your job is a great thing, everyone needs a bit of support at the start.

A new workplace can be isolating in any context and at any stage of your career. As an NQT, I naturally gravitated towards the other “young ones”. We attended NQT meetings and training sessions together and had shared interests, such as optimism and Jägerbombs. When you start at a new school but are no longer a youngster, it can be hard to get to know like-minded colleagues, mainly because they are just really bloody busy. You can quickly become very lonely.

When you’re new and you’ve had a lesson with that Year 8 class that felt like it was directed by Quentin Tarantino on E-numbers, having someone to listen to your frustrations without judgement can make all the difference to your wellbeing.

I ended up being one of the lucky ones at my new school. I received plenty of support in terms of resources and general guidance before starting my role. I was in regular contact with the head of department as well as the teacher I was replacing - communication that was thoughtfully facilitated by the helpful and supportive senior leaders who appointed me.

But I know so many friends who have not had the same experience. So, how can leaders ensure a smooth transition for the “new, but not new-new” teacher?

Pairing up an experienced new starter with a well-chosen social mentor can help. Placing them together for form time or on break duty, for example, can work wonders in overcoming feelings of isolation.

Leaders should consider these pairings carefully. Matching a new starter with someone at a similar point in their career could be beneficial, for example, as could matching them with a colleague who has settled in well at the school after starting relatively recently. Or there may be a member of staff who often plans school social events and is active within the school community; they could make an excellent social mentor.

It is also beneficial (for everyone) to utilise the skills and knowledge that experienced teachers bring from time spent elsewhere by offering them a voice or the opportunity to be involved in whole-school initiatives.

Since starting at my new school in January, I have been given opportunities to lead whole-school continuing professional development and begin my own action research project, as well as being invited on learning walks to see how teaching and learning looks across the school.

These opportunities have gone a long way towards preventing the worry about backsliding in a new setting.

And, perhaps most of all, simply checking in with a newbie can be hugely powerful. This could be as simple as popping into their classroom or scheduling a brief, informal chat a couple of times over the half term to provide assurance that they have your support, should they need it (rather than a quick “And you’re settling in OK, yes?” as you pass in the corridor).

Let them know you appreciate the challenge of convincing every class that they are not a supply teacher but a bona fide, permanent fixture. Pay attention to their needs and, hopefully, they will stay that way.

Sarah Stacey is an English teacher in North Wales

This article originally appeared in the 7 June 2019 issue under the headline “Don’t just leave a new staff member to sink or swim”