“Personally, I am always ready to learn, although I do not always like being taught...” —Sir Winston Churchill

As a teacher, I was tapped to lead our school’s new teacher induction program for a few years just as teachers across the country were being issued laptops in place of desktop computers. One year, the collaborating assistant principal and I scripted a sequence of several group activities for our second training day that blended multiple learning outcomes for the 30 new members of our school’s faculty. Pre-planning was two days away and I was standing at the front of my normal classroom with adult students that ranged from veteran teachers to new college graduates. The AP was monitoring conversations and identifying technology issues that she would refer to another staff member across the room while also viewing the laptops screens which faced away from me. I had a very simple activity that was designed to last about 12 minutes. I was teaching this cohort of teachers how to write the most basic HTML code in a text file, save it with an “.html” extension, and open that file in their internet browser to display the exact verbiage of their classroom mantra, something we had developed earlier that morning and each teacher had written on their name placard.

I methodically dispensed initial instructions for everyone to follow using adult learning theory and observational feedback (e.g. scrunched faces) to speed up or slow down to ensure the brand new laptops were not a barrier to participation. My co-teacher and I each jumped in to help a couple of teachers with access difficulties and after a few more instructions, it was time for the big reveal when in unison, I would guide everyone to type their filename as the URL in their local browser and they would see their program work. I was anticipating oohs and aahs all around when two seconds before the big reveal, one overconfident participant, a career-changer coming into education who was sitting in the middle row, announced very loudly “Mr. Bray, you aren’t teaching us how to write HTML code. You are teaching us how to teach!”.

The primary purpose of this activity was, in fact, covert modeling of some instructional and classroom techniques. Shortly thereafter, we were going to debrief the overall activity using a lesson-planning protocol in reverse and then review teacher performance standards while I explained how everything had been sequenced for the day.

This adult learner was factually correct in what he had deciphered and proclaimed (much like the student who over-eagerly points out their teacher’s spelling mistake on the board). Unfortunately, he disengaged for the rest of the day as if he felt duped into participating before he figured me out. [Would it surprise you to learn that this new teacher left education altogether at the end of that upcoming school year.]

Sometimes, there is an observable difference between one's desire to learn and their willingness to be taught. Adolescents and adults alike, want exposure to new content and concepts in a manner and at a pace that matches their speed of learning and personal construction of meaning. It also requires granting some trust to the person doing the teaching that they actually have the learner’s best interests in mind and at heart. 29 of 30 future colleagues did that; but I remember the one who did not.

In your school leadership journey, if you desire an experienced professional who will steadfastly maintain your personal growth, development, and career trajectory as our top priority, it would be our privilege to partner with you.