When I resigned my position as a middle school English teacher, I told people I quit just to see what would happen next. I now offer professional development (PD) to teachers. It's supposed to be a part-time job, but I can't quit after the allotted twenty hours because this job feeds into my passion for creating--lesson plans, webpages, blog posts, book reviews...
There are perks. I quip that I can take a bathroom break whenever I wish, and I don't have to let a pile of ungraded papers dictate the time I go to bed. But I do entertain the thought that I shouldn't have quit a job that I was good at and I was comfortable in.
I accepted my current job because I wanted to discover what I was capable of if I pushed myself into unfamiliar territory. At the beginning, I did not think I had the skills to offer high-quality professional development, and I was fearful of being a dreadful presenter. I'll never forget the female who came dressed in overalls to deliver a topic related to brain-based research, and I feared that my work would be held in as little regard as I held hers. However, even though I thought excellent presenters were born that way, I hoped that I could learn to be a confident facilitator of learning.
It was a revelation to discover that there is professional development to train a teacher to deliver professional development. My co-facilitators and I are being trained by an experienced trainer. We now carefully script our PD sessions, working out times and transitions, to seamlessly deliver world class professional development. I have found the strategies so purposeful and effective that I apply them to a Sunday afternoon poetry class I offer to the women of Al-anon.
That confidence, however, didn't readily transfer to my new work. I still faced the kickoff event of PD, even though it was just an hour, with trepidation. My partners seemed to converse more easily, and I was sure they didn't have to rehearse as much as I did. Heather falls into ready conversation with new people, and I hesitate to introduce myself.
I survived the event. My biggest mistakes were revealed in the field notes. I should have embedded some time during the team builder to actually get to know one another better, and I struggled with time management at the end. However, I felt pretty good until the debriefing two days later when my partner made a comment to the tune of "It was good but we should work on being more transparent." I had little idea of what she meant, but I didn't ask for any clarification. I just went into defensive mode which means I shut down and went home to cry about it later.
I'm being painfully honest because I've said yes to a research question posed by our co-director. How does a facilitator of adult learning grow professionally? What are her attitudinal changes? What are the activities that lead to such changes? I am interested myself. I'm of retirement age. I could be planting gardens and sewing aprons, but I choose to reinvent myself. What is it going to look like?
I did cry, and I wrote a lot. I wrote to acknowledge that Heather and I have some organizational differences that lead me to conclude we come from separate planets, but I will have to learn how to value the differences. In order to process what she is thinking, Heather will talk at length around and about a topic while I remain silent until I have an idea. Then, I am afraid, I must appear to be impatient and overbearing when I spout my idea. Heather uses meeting time as a shared thinking time, and I prefer to do my thinking at home. I want to get immediately to business. I'd like to learn to relax and enjoy the community building of a shared meeting time.
With my co-facilitator, I have the opportunity to practice patience and to learn to affirm others in such a way that they will feel I am filling their buckets rather than making a withdrawal. I have a lot to learn. I am my own research project. Let the study begin.
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