Why teach?

By Alastair Poulain, Deputy Head (Co-Curricular)

Very occasionally, someone asks why I left travel – one of several previous careers – to enter the cloistered world of teaching. Was it the elbow patches? The allure of a 1970s school lunch? Perhaps. But one languid summer afternoon (memorable for being so), I reflected on it. And now, perhaps, I can serve as a recruiting sergeant (yes, another past job) for those considering a second or third career.

If you’ve got decades of working life ahead, why not make teaching part of your story?

Of all the environments I’ve worked in – barracks, building sites, private equity offices, even palaces – the most uplifting has been school. At Sherborne Prep, over 200 children bounce in each morning, full of energy and wide-eyed optimism. The mood is infectious. It’s jolly, it’s fun, it’s hopeful. The baseline emotion is joy. And while it’s your job to teach and guide, the sheer positivity around you does most of the heavy lifting. They’re happy. They make you happy.

Many jobs involve doing something someone else doesn’t want to do. Some are tough, antisocial, or soul-sapping. But teaching? It’s good work, in good conditions. Every day, I have the chance to lift someone up, share an idea, spark an interest. Occasionally, you get to change a life – in the same way someone once changed yours. Feedback is frequent (mostly positive), and the hours? Manageable.

Let’s be honest. Term time isn’t restful. The days are long, your brain whirrs from dawn to dusk, and interaction is constant. It’s like presenting at a board meeting on loop, six days a week. Gallows humour kicks in by week ten.

But then there are the holidays – glorious stretches that let you recharge properly. Three long breaks a year offer not just time to travel or rest, but time to reset, to drift, to imagine. By the end, you’re ready to return, which is a rare and lovely thing.

In the last few weeks alone: I’ve coached rugby, camped on the school grounds, jousted on cardboard horses, compered a pancake race, refereed social squabbles, taken philosophical tangents with nine-year-olds, and delivered a rousing ode to the Post-it note. No two days are the same. From a solid structure comes glorious unpredictability.

It’s the most stimulating work I’ve ever done – challenging in all the right ways.

So, why teach? Because every night, as your head hits the pillow, you know you’ve made a difference. You’ve laughed, been stretched, and surrounded yourself with good people and good purpose.

It’s worth the leap. Come join.