Reflections on instructional design, written along the way.
What advice would I give to the version of you from 5 years ago?
I would tell myself to stop asking for content, and start asking about friction.
Old me would have asked a SME: "Tell me about nutrition programming during emergencies."
Now I would ask:
"What do generalists get wrong when reviewing nutrition focused applications?"
"What pain points led to this training request?"
"What change do you want to see as a result?"
That shift from topic-first to performance-first has changed my approach to training entirely.
For policy trainings, I no longer let SMEs rewrite the policy into the storyboard. I ask instead: “What parts of the policy are most often misunderstood?” Then build from there.
Relevance beats information overload every time.
For course migrations, I don't just recreate what was there, especially if what was there was walls of text with next buttons. I ask for scenarios and case studies instead.
Flip cards and hover states are pretty, but scenarios with decision points have more sticking power.
Designing around friction, not content, is the advice I’d give past me.
Before I was an instructional designer, I was a poet.
I spent my college and graduate school years studying the metaphors in Rumi and the restraint in Emily Dickinson. I wrote of the tragic fates of Icarus and Sisyphus, and years later, taught MLK's use of anaphora and allusion in "I Have a Dream."
It’s partly this love of language, the delight in creating meaning through thoughtfully edited words, that makes me good at what I do now as an instructional designer.
Too much training suffers from a lack of brevity.
Poetry taught me to cut the fluff. There's nothing I love more than reducing 50 slides to a 5 minute scenario, or swapping walls of text with a well-placed decision point.
The skills I picked up in past lives have been my character development. I wouldn't be the Instructional Designer I am now if it weren't for the detours I took to get here.
I was once asked in an interview: "𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯-𝘵𝘩𝘦-𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯?"
My answer? Engagement isn’t about flashy interactions or gamification for the sake of it. It comes from 𝗮 𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲, the feeling that the training is truly worth someone's time.
To create engagement, I would start by understanding:
What does training currently look like for these trainers?
What challenges do they face?
What strategies are they eager to learn?
𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗲’𝘀 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝘅𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲: Imagine a train-the-trainer session where we read through PowerPoint slides about adult learning theories. Now, contrast that with a session where trainers 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗹𝘆𝘇𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹-𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘀, troubleshoot challenges they’ve actually faced, and practice new facilitation techniques with peer feedback.
Which one sounds more engaging? The difference isn’t bells and whistles - it’s about 𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗺𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘃𝗮𝗹𝘂𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲.
I’ll admit, in the moment, my answer wasn’t as polished as this. I rambled a bit about relevance and the importance of a thorough needs analysis. But after reflecting on it, I realized that at the core of my response was a simple truth: 𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗹𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲’𝘀 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲.
𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗲'𝘀 𝗮 𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻: 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.
There’s overlap, sure, but the differences are far greater. And no one talks about those.
When I taught high school and community college, my job was to spark curiosity. To foster critical thinking. To help students fall in love with learning. That’s the heart of teaching, no matter the subject or grade you teach.
But instructional design is about supporting people in doing their jobs better, whether that's:
• Clarifying the gray areas in a policy, or
• Making sure they can use a new tool or dashboard.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗲𝗱𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗴𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹, 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹: Kids have time to explore. Adults in the workplace want the shortest path to what they need to know.
We strive for INSPIRATION with kids and aim for RELEVANCE with adults in the workplace.
When designing training, it helps to think less like your subject matter expert and more like a performance consultant.