Student teachers are a common sight in classrooms throughout the State. But what is the experience like for a trainee teacher? John Downes visited two of the hundreds of student teachers on placement in primary schools

'Láimhe suas. Láimhe síos. Láimhe trasna. Láimhe ar do cheann." Sitting like a giant in a class of seven- to eight-year-olds, it is all I can do to stop myself from following teacher's instructions.

Except in this case, "teacher" is not a fully-qualified teacher, but Sarah Maher, a student at St Patrick's College, Drumcondra, Dublin, who is doing a four-week placement at Ballyroan Boys' National School in Rathfarnham, Co Dublin.

As part of her three-year undergraduate bachelor in education degree, Maher (20) has already done a number of these teaching practices, and it shows.

She is in the final year of her course, and is confident and relaxed with her class and enjoying the work she is doing. She rarely, if ever, is forced to raise her voice in a class which seems to be on its best behaviour on this grey Friday morning - a positive attitude that remains unaltered by my presence or, later, by that of the Irish Times photographer.

To facilitate my presence here, rang a haon's full-time teacher, Mick Finnerty, has graciously allowed himself to be relegated to chairs made for someone an awful lot smaller than him.

My initial efforts to go unnoticed do not proceed as smoothly as I would have wished. Within five minutes of entering, I have attracted the attention of one of the pint-sized students.

He starts to stare at me, sussing me out to see if I am an inspector, another teacher - or what? This stand-off continues for a while, and culminates with him sticking a one euro coin in front of his eye.

"Miss. X has his money out," his friend immediately protests to Maher. She reacts just as quickly. "Make it disappear," she says. And he does. The key with this age group, it appears, is to gain the attention of the teacher, and, even better, her praise, by any means necessary, however ruthless.

Maher has not simply walked into today's class and decided to teach, she tells me. She has to account for every minute of her day in the notes she writes afterwards. She also has to keep a detailed plan of what she hopes to teach, to be inspected as part of her teaching practice (TP) assessment.

"There is an awful lot of planning to do," she says. "You finish work and then you have to go and do more work. You might be up until all hours doing it."

The kids in Ballyroan, a primarily middle-class school, are very different to those she has taught on previous placements in her native Carlow, she says. "They are a lot more street-wise and grown up. I think it might be an urban thing. I was teaching at an all-girls school before, but up here it's been either a mixed or an all-boys class. So that could have something to do with it as well."

Despite the heavy workload, she believes she has learned a huge amount from the TP experience.

"It's fine sitting in lectures," she says, "but you are not going to be in lectures all your life. TP helps the lectures make more sense. After TP, when you are sitting in lectures you would see things, and say: 'well that would or wouldn't work'."

Dr Catherine Furlong, acting TP co-ordinator at St Patrick's College, agrees that the practical aspect that TP affords is important. The college currently has approximately 1,200 students out on TP, providing some indication of the logistical demands this entails.

Although she does not wish to diminish in any way the other work done on the course, TP is the core work of the college, she says, since it is where theory meets practice.

But it must be pretty nerve-wracking for students to get up in front of a class for the first time, especially given that TP accounts for a little over a quarter of their final mark? "It would be wrong to say that some students don't experience difficulties," Furlong says, "but they are supervised by a team. There would be three to four people to support them on TP.

"The students do become more confident as the years go on. We would have 400 in first year, and lots of those will not have experience. They won't have stood in a primary school classroom since they were there as students themselves.

"The reality is that placing 1,200 students is no joke, and it couldn't work without the support of teachers," she says. "But it's a win-win situation. I think they can also learn a lot from the student teachers. . . They have all the knowledge in terms of the new curriculum, and the resources to be used. And they are bringing that into the classroom. A lot of teachers enjoy watching the students."

It is the "hungry caterpillar" that is the focus of the lesson in the junior infants class up the road from Ballyroan NS at Scoil Mhuire.

A co-educational school that receives funding for disadvantaged students, Meabh Cummins is, like Maher, also in her final year.

Today is vaccination day for some of Cummins's students, and there is a palpable nervousness when the class is interrupted for three students to be taken out. There are only 11 children in school today, because some had their MMR injections yesterday and are absent as a result.

Teacher's approval is again the name of the game here; the reward for being the pupil to pick out the correct picture relating to the story of the hungry caterpillar is Cummins's affirmation.

On to colouring-in time. Cummins circles the room, encouraging her students by saying "excellent", "that's lovely" and "that's a beautiful butterfly". Every now and then, she has to raise her voice slightly. Each time, it has the desired effect - immediately.

"It's great to be able to get out and put everything you learn in college into practice. You learn about the nitty-gritty. It's definitely the best time of the year," she tells me afterwards.

"It can be very stressful though. . . you're learning how to think on your feet, how to change from lesson to lesson." Cummins's working day begins at about 8 a.m. when she would finish correcting worksheets from the day before, she says. Then she puts out the materials for that day's class. The students leave at 1.30 p.m. but Cummins will stay on for an hour or so.

She takes two buses home to Drumcondra, relaxes for an hour or so, and then it's straight into the lesson plans for the next day, thinking up questions to ask her students.

By her estimation, she would start working at around 5 p.m. and would finish at 9 or 10 p.m. So, little sign here of the stereotypical lazy student.

The visit of inspectors to assess how she is doing used to be nerve-wracking, she says. But as she has done more and more TPs, she has got used to their presence.

"At this stage I don't mind. But when you hear the knock on your door for the first time in first year, it can make you nervous."

At the end of the class, all the pupils are hoping to be leader of the line, that teacher forms to walk them out of the classroom. Once again, it is up to Cummins to decide who gets the honour of being first, second, third.

Speaking after the class, she says that she loves this age-group. "If I told them to do something, they would probably do it just because I'm an adult," she says.

If only things could stay that way, I think to myself, as I make my way outside.