This month marks the anniversary of my last day as a professional trainer in the City.

A year ago, I was in floods as I hugged my closest friends, about to embark on what could prove to be the most expensive folly of my life: to train on-the-job as a secondary English teacher at a school in Hertfordshire.

Having taken the plunge, what have the last 12 months taught me? Did I fall flat on my face?

And would the foreboding comments of every pessimist in the land prove true, as they told me that their aunt/wife/sister/great-grandmother-in-a-former-life had once been a teacher and would rather stack shelves than go back to the profession?

What have the last 12 months taught me? More than I could possibly recount. I have learnt more about myself than I thought possible.

Let's begin with the obvious: 1,001 strategies to deal with a classroom of students.

While the pay of a teacher is never going to approach my former earnings, it is by no means poor January 03 article October 02 article

Not the same class of course: no two classes are the same; in fact every student varies throughout the year.

Freddie's behaviour and enthusiasm varies dramatically between Monday at 0900 and Thursday at 1500. Factor in the time of year, humidity, weather, what they ate for breakfast (anything? fizzy drink? Red Bull?), what happened in the previous lessons, and then adjust for the catalytic factors of the other 29 students in the classroom: no one lesson is ever repeated.

In fact, lesson one: you will never get bored in the job!

What else have I learnt? I have experienced elation when students have clearly absorbed my teaching to produce quality work, whether at Key Stage 3, GCSE or A-level.

My chest size has expanded dramatically as it puffs with pride when my tutor group tries its best at sports day. (I have also learnt not to try competing in the 800m against my pupils; next year, the javelin!).

I have learnt to deal with the "bad classes", when a student misbehaves despite your best efforts; thankfully the school has a wonderful system for support.

I have learnt to appreciate my home life more than ever, and to make sure that work and home are not mutually exclusive.

Did I fall flat on my face?

Having undergone Trial by Combat (well, ok, external assessment), I am now a fully qualified teacher. I have a permanent contract.

Last week I attended a national conference with the head teachers from 103 other leading schools. If I did fall on my face, I am obviously still concussed and dreaming.

The Great-Aunt Question. What can I say? The trouble with teaching is actually that everyone has an outdated opinion; because we have all been taught (perhaps 15 years ago, perhaps more), we all have an opinion on what the job of a teacher must comprise (seen from the pupils' perspective, of course).

How can I demonstrate my pleasure with the job? Well, perhaps one way. Two months ago, I discovered that I would have received a �40,000 bonus had I still been working in my old job.

I must admit, for at least 10 seconds I experienced a feeling somewhat akin to regret. Then I reminded myself of three facts.

First, while the pay of a teacher is never going to approach my former earnings, it is by no means poor.

Second, I am working for a worthy cause - the education of the next generation.

Finally? I no longer commute for two hours a day, allowing me to spend time with my son (previously I wouldn't have seen him awake during the week). How can any job be worth that loss?

So where to now? The best answer I can give is, who knows? I am not the type of person to sit back and wait for opportunities, and am throwing myself into the approaching year with gusto.