“What is a Subordinating Conjunction?” and Other Things I Googled as a TA in Year 5

When I left full-time teaching to become an entrepreneur, I had the very clear vision of spending fewer hours planning and marking, and more time building my educational empire one perfectly designed, downloadable resource at a time. I imagined sipping a caramel latte in Starbucks, enjoying free electricity whilst creating engaging resources for teachers and youth leaders all around the world.

Little did I know that two years down the line, I’d have £4.67 left in my savings account, a dent in my self-esteem, and an Excel spreadsheet labelled 'RESOURCE IDEAS' that frequently haunts my dreams." It turns out that creating quality resources takes a lot more time than I thought it would. So, in the name of financial survival (and to fund my next caramel latte), I joined a reputable teaching agency that provides cover to schools that are in need of Teachers and Teaching Assistants. With a background in working with teenagers, I jumped at the opportunity to take on my first placement as a cover teacher in a secondary school (you can read more about it in my supply teacher blog post). But recently, I decided to switch things up and try the magical world of Primary Education. You know, cute kids, healthy snacks, colourful classrooms and carpet time. What could go wrong? Famous last words.

On my first day of school, I felt like I had just stepped into the happiest place on earth. No, it was not Disneyland, but it sure felt like it. It was barely 8am and EVERYONE I walked past greeted me with the most enthusiastic hello that ever hello’d my way. I instantly regretted bringing my own coffee that morning, as I wanted some of whatever they were putting in the water around here. Even the school bell sounded like the product of chubby baby angels playing tiny harps through the Tannoy. At this point, I thought the day was going to be a breeze, but I might have spoken too soon.

My first assignment was in a Year 5 classroom, I thought “sweet, real maths”, I love maths. And after hearing a bunch of 9-year-olds butcher my last name for 5 minutes straight (“No, it’s Miss M-u-n-d-e-t-a”), I was more than ready for the one thing that no one could mispronounce: numbers. On that day, the session was on ‘finding the area of compound shapes.’ I was thriving. Shapes? I can do shapes. We were measuring, calculating, discussing square centimetres like we were on Countdown: The Academic Edition.

But then... came English.

The children were writing descriptive paragraphs, and my role was to walk around the classroom and oversee their work, answer questions and confirm if what they were doing was correct. I thought, easy. Until the tiny humans started asking questions.

“Miss, have I used a fronted adverbial correctly?”

Me: “What?”

“Miss, could you remind me what a subordinating conjunction is?”

Me: “Who?”

“Is this a relative clause or an expanded noun phrase?”

Excuse me, what?!

All I could think was:

What even is a subordinating conjunction?

Why are they subordinating?

Why can’t they just be equal? That’s not very nice.

There I was with my Russel Group education pretending that I needed to “just double check something” as I frantically Googled terms like "fronted adverbial examples" and "how not to cry in a Year 5 classroom."

Despite the grammatical assault, I came away from that week in awe of Year 5 teachers. These legends are teaching serious curriculum content all while being nurturing enough to kindly respond to statements like “it’s my hamster’s birthday today” and “look at my new fidget spinner”. They know which kids are gluten-free, and who will likely cry if their pencil isn’t exactly 8cm long. They have the emotional intelligence to stop a glue stick-related meltdown with a single sentence. They’re funny, firm, full of patience, and not once did I see the teacher Google what a subordinating conjunction was, which is more than I can say for myself.

Was it the week I expected? No.

Did I know what I was doing? Also no.

Did I have a laugh, learn, and leave with a newfound respect for primary educators? Absolutely.

So, to anyone who is currently experiencing an unexpected career detour like me, whether you’re an undercover entrepreneur, a supply teacher dodging paper planes made from the worksheets of the day, or a teaching assistant who is grammatically fighting for their life. Embrace it. Because the scenic route might take a little longer, but it comes with laughter, unexpected wins and character development. So laugh when you can, cry when you must, and remember: this is just the behind-the-scenes montage of your success story.

Next week, I’m off to Year 2. Surely six-year-olds won’t ask about fronted adverbials, right? Stay tuned for more educational misadventures.

Wish me luck.

Chapter Four: coming soon.