The hellos follow her down the corridor like notes on a musical score. "How'ya, Miss," says the first boy. "How'ya," says the next. The groups of boys and girls smile at her, waiting for a smile in return.
Karen Cotter, art teacher at Marino College, Dublin, has lots of friends. They come from all parts of the north inner city - around Ballybough, Summerhill, Sheriff Street and North Strand. "I really enjoy the kids, they're lively, every one says hello. And because I live in the community, I meet them in the street. They'll always say hello. To me that's saying that something is going right in the classroom."
When the bell goes, the first-years troop in. Today they are going to use pencils to sketch a selection of tall mugs, jugs and a tea pot.
"Miss, could you start it for me." - "Miss, I can't do it." Cotter is calm and clear. They must start the work themselves. "Quite often we have kids who have a pencil and a piece of paper in front of them and they say they can't do it. They're just terrified of doing something and failing so they fail themselves before they even try. That's when they can become disruptive."
All around there are furrowed brows, dark looks of concentration and great exhalations of breath. "Those kids love routine," says Cotter. "You fight for it in the beginning but then it works and they like it, because they know their boundaries."
The hard work continues into the morning. There is a low level of chat in the artroom. "It's a chatty class, it's hands-on. They don't get a huge amount more freedom in here. They're not allowed hop off their chairs.
"There's never a dull moment. The day goes really quickly. They're not shy. They can be funny as well. They don't mind you being there when they're talking."
One group, she describes, as being "very demanding, like young children. They'll scream out for you. It goes back to your self-esteem. They want you to tell them what to do all the time. They don't trust themselves to work on their own initiative.
"You don't know what they're coming from in the morning. For them to be sitting in that classroom is such an achievement."
Cotter went to Newpark Comprehensive, Blackrock, Dublin, herself. She always wanted to do art. After Leaving Cert she did a degree in fine art and design at DIT. After graduating a friend started teaching and this got her thinking about it.
She went to Newpark to do about three hours a week voluntary teaching "to get a taste of it". Her work as an artist continued also in a rented studio.
She surprised herself in the classroom, she says. "I just enjoyed the kids. "So, I applied to the National College of Art and Design to do `the dip' - the best part of the year was observing a teacher in the first two weeks. I just had to sit at the back and take notes. I learned so much from him - Pat Sweeney.
"A lot of the things that he would do are what I would do now. He would never raise his voice. He was very disciplined. The sink in his art-room was spotless - it's very important. They have to respect the room, to respect what they are doing." Cotter's thesis was on enhancing self-esteem through art. "I wanted to do a dissertation that would benefit me in the class-room. I did a series of lesson plans to do with identity, to get them thinking about what makes them different," she says. "What I love mostly about teaching is when the kids achieve something and seeing what they get out of it. It's just seeing the personal development, seeing how education is so good for the development of the whole person."
Cotter works as an artist after school. "In my studio I can switch off. It makes me cut off. I treat them so separately. In the classroom I'm teaching them skills to do with art. My work in the studio is very abstract. It's so different. There's no cross-over."
Her first teaching job was in Mountmellick, Co Laois. The students there "were a totally different kettle of fish. Although they were lovely and very well-behaved, I found it the hardest class of all. You'd be dragging things out of them."