AT primary school I was what might now be known as a geek.

Although reasonably popular in class and blessed with the Gary Lineker-like ability of being able to score the winner in football with my only meaningful touch of the game, I worked too hard to be one of the cool kids.

Inconceivable as it may be to those who know me now, I was never happier than when charging through maths homework, writing a story for English or just striving to boost my reading age to 13 by learning words such as puberty, menstruation and hormonal.

Stress came with the 'fun' subjects. My artwork, as 10 rejection letters from Tony Hart's Gallery would suggest, was a disaster, in Home Economics my dishes tended to finish up bright red due to shoddy knifemanship, and the end product of music lessons was always a tune resembling a slowed down Frere Jaques.

Twenty or so years later, I still have the same problems. My cooking, with two dishes mastered (Spaghetti Bolognese and Chilli Con Carne), might have progressed in leaps and bounds but I'm still just as hopeless at art and music. Actually, that's a lie. I'm worse.

Because of this, the lectures in these subjects have generally been quite stressful. I have no problems teaching art, afterall half the battle is just inspiring the class to be creative, but being told by your tutor that all you need to draw a lifelike rendering of a galloping horse's face is a little more concentration is a tad galling. Concentration isn't the problem, lack of talent is - I could spend hours studying a stick man and still draw him out of proportion.

However, there was one subject I was dreading even more than art. Drama. The thought of pretending to be a squirrel gathering nuts or a tree in bloom doesn't really get my juices flowing.

And it seemed that all my worst fears would be realised when the lesson started with us passing an imaginary stone around a circle before doing silly walks around the room while describing our favourite room (I'm ashamed to say it's the toilet in my case).

But, unlike all those years ago, it was actually both inspiring and entertaining. Inspiring because it showed just how valuable a tool drama can be in boosting pupils' creativity and confidence, and entertaining because it's not everyday you get to see a roomful of adults making fools (for want of a better word) of themselves.

I put it down to the fact that while the course may be hard work it's still infinitely better than doing a nine to five job, sitting in meetings and having to suck up to the boss. From September the real work will start so the time on course is to be enjoyed. Give me a choice between hours of planning or doing a mime and I'd choose the latter. Probably.

What's even more interesting, though, is how the people, or at least some of the people, on the course seem to take up the roles you could imagine them taking in class. There are the talkers, the fidgeters, the quiet ones, the teacher's pets and the cheeky pupils. Sadly, well not all that sadly as none of the groups seem that appealing, I'm pretty sure that I have a tendency to sneak into the latter group. Sitting in a classroom writing a poem, playing numeracy games or composing a tune on the Glockenspiel is frankly amusing and when you think about what you could be doing - writing a report, filing expenses, catching the tram to work - it's impossible not to chuckle.

But whether all the cheeky chappies should be combined is another matter entirely. Last week in drama our group had the task of producing a simple news report and instead launched into a three minute comedy sketch complete with 30 second delays caused by an imaginary dodgy radio link between the studio and on-the-spot reporter. The other groups all did fairly straight laced reports, however the common theme between us all was that we had completed the objective, been creative in doing so and had also injected some of our own personality.

Our group went for the humorous approach, an approach I imagine we'll all maintain when teaching full time. It's not a style favoured by all, many teachers seem to see humour and education as being uneasy bedfellows, but my ethos will be to learn through having fun. If the class want to write funny stories then all well and good, if they use the odd rude word all the better.

In one class I observed, a young lad wrote a brilliant story but the only feedback he got was negative because he had used an 'inappropriate word' for bottom. Such feedback could stifle his creativity, discourage him from taking risks and lead to him writing in a more prosaic style just to please the teacher. In my class I want the pupils to write to please themselves first and me second, put it the other way round and, to use an 'inappropriate word', it's the pupils getting a bum deal.

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