LITTLE Joyce Bramley rose to her full height of nearly four feet and, in imperious tones, gave her playmates a good dressing-down. This was supposed to be a serious lesson, and they were not paying attention. With a heavy sigh, she returned to the onerous task of trying to teach them their sums.

The mock classroom, in the back garden of Joyce's Middlesbrough home, was the venue for many a lesson conducted by the ambitious youngster, then a pupil at Caldicotes Junior School. And looking back, she recognises them as the first step towards fulfilling her vocation.

Joyce, now 46 and a teacher of 25 years' standing at Overfields Primary School, in a working class area of Middlesbrough, is convinced she was born to teach. "I do love my job," she says. Every day is like a clean page; I can't repeat things. Teaching is like second nature."

When I visit Joyce, who is unmarried, childless, and lives in Linthorpe, Middlesbrough, she is in the midst of Monday morning business. A dark cloud, in the form of a bottle-breaking incident, hangs over proceedings. Otherwise joviality itself, Joyce casts a withering look at one of the boys who, it transpires, is responsible. "This is our community," she says in flat, Yorkshire-sounding tones. "I'm not impressed."

That dealt with, she gets back to the "big picture" of the day ahead. She asks her brood of 26, who sit cross-legged on a square of carpet, if they notice anything new about the classroom. Instantly, girls and boys are on their knees, scanning the room like predators. With a bit of prompting from Miss Bramley, they notice a large gold heart and the golden orb of a lamp base.

The heart, she explains, symbolises the kind works they are to perform, and the orb will form the base of an achievement tree. Joyce admits she is a magpie for materials and ideas. "I'm always on the lookout for resources," she says. "Making things different helps with the learning process. I loved junior school, but not so much secondary school because they didn't go out of their way to make things interesting."

One idea she has taken from a magazine is that of a "brain gym". She explains that the theory behind it is connecting the left and right sides of the brain through simultaneous thought and activity. The children may not understand this, but they throw themselves wholeheartedly into a "brain gym" recital of the alphabet, raising their left or right arm for each letter as instructed.

It was more by accident than design that Joyce ended up at Overfields School, which is snubbed by the A to Z. She studied in Wales and was all set for a career in London, when a supply job came up at Overfields, not far from where she grew up. The two gelled, and she never left.

Over the years, she has taken on extra responsibilities, and is now music co-ordinator, numeracy co-ordinator, year three to four team leader, Key Stage Two team leader and a member of the senior management team. But while promotion once beckoned, with Joyce acting as deputy head for a year, she grew to resent the role.

"As soon as I was out of the classroom, I thought, 'that's not me'," she says.

While she appreciates colleagues' gripes about the amount of paperwork heaped on teachers, she is disciplined in her own approach. "I know a lot of people get upset because of the workload," she says. "People start to worry because it affects what happens in the classroom, but my work with the children will always be top priority."

It is clear that Joyce's class appreciates her genuine interest. When she produces Harry Potter notebooks as rewards for hard work, the children's rapture is understandable, but what is startling is their almost equal enthusiasm for lessons.

Maths for these lucky year fours consists of team games with numbers in the school hall. If there is potential for chaos, Joyce firmly quashes it with the force of her personality, and I am stunned by the realisation that with a bit of imagination, maths and fun need not be mutually exclusive.

Her organisational skills and capacity always to be one step ahead, making calculations, adding up scores, and ensuring everyone is working, are impressive. She also manages to inject everything with a sense of newness, as if it is the first time the class has added, subtracted, or multiplied. When she mentions her interest in drama, it fits neatly with the overall picture.

While others may view the school's modest setting as a hindrance, Joyce considers it a blessing. "When I came here, there were some very tough children, but that's not so much the case now," she says. "I've talked to friends at other schools where perhaps children get too much, and it's hard to motivate them. Here, they get excited about everything."

The fact that it was one of her class who nominated her for the teaching award is telling, and Joyce clearly cherishes her relationship with the children. "They are very kind," she says. "On a daily basis, I can get two or three letters saying 'thank you for being my teacher'."

Amid the general disgruntlement with teaching and the view of children as little thugs, it must give Joyce great satisfaction.