Teachers are a group of people who perform day in, day out, to a sometimes hostile crowd. Talking in public? We never bat an eyelid. Teaching children and teenagers is our raison d’etre. The only thing that scares us? Teaching our peers.
I’ve been teaching for (a lot) more than a decade. Many of the students of my first GCSE class are parents now. And yet I still feel that frisson of fear when I am asked to lead an Inset session. I’ve done it for my own school, for local teaching alliances and for a PGCE course, but that feeling of imposter syndrome is always the same.
What is it about teaching adults that is so different? First, there’s the “how dare I presume to teach these superstars?” feeling. Your own expertise seems to pale by comparison when faced with colleagues who’ve taught for more years than you have lived. You also know that you are likely (teaching fads being what they are) to be delivering ideas that have already circled the curricular solar system - and gone from trend to embarrassment - at least once before, regardless of current theory.
Second, you feel like a newly qualified teacher again, faced with your first class alone. A million “what ifs” run through your head. What if she’s doodling, refusing to engage? What if he kicks off? (Not likely, you console yourself: she’s an assistant head and he’s a head of department, after all.)
The trick, I have learned, for overcoming the Inset nerves is to embrace them. It’s important to remember that we are all human, with our own experiences, flaws and baggage - and that tapping into this can be refreshing for those sitting in an Inset session.
On one occasion, I was nervous about delivering an Inset about vocabulary, so I decided to start with a personal story about how I have battled to learn correct academic pronunciation, coming from a solidly rural and non-academic family, as I do.
Opening up in this way led to some heartfelt and profound conversations with colleagues. I learned a lot from leading that session: not just about the topic but about myself and my peers.
In other sessions, I have related anecdotes about lesson activities that didn’t work or explained how my own practice has changed over time, and I hope that has gone some way towards removing any vibes of appearing unapproachable.
It’s easy to feel that some of our peers are infallible or inaccessible, but opening up about our experiences (even the less positive ones) is a way of getting a better sense of our colleagues at work, drawing on their expertise, and reinforcing that elusive sense of being a collegiate and congenial entity of professionals.
An Inset session isn’t something to be endured as a participant or feared as a facilitator. It’s an enriching and affirming experience for all teachers. Yes, the coffee break is pleasant but Inset also offers us a chance for personal growth.
And sometimes, the best way to overcome imposter syndrome is simply to embrace that opportunity for growth by being as open and honest as we can.
Helen Mars is an English teacher in Yorkshire
This article originally appeared in the 9 April 2021 issue under the headline “Don’t be daunted when teaching the teachers”
