What I'd Tell a New Teacher: Wisdom from a LinkedIn Thread

A simple question on LinkedIn recently sparked something special: “What's one piece of advice you'd give a pre-service teacher who is now eligible to teach?”

What followed wasn't a list of tips people had read in a book. It was a thread full of educators, some decades into their careers, some coaches, some school leaders, reaching back through their own experience to offer something honest to the next generation. Reading through the replies, a handful of themes surfaced, from people who had clearly lived them. Here's what they had to say.

Build Your Professional Learning Network - Early and Deliberately 
The original post set the tone as I kicked off the conversation: build your PLN, your Professional Learning Network, within and beyond your university, your school, and even your country. Investment equals value, and I am grateful for exactly that kind of network.

A few commenters gently pushed back on the idea that early career teachers should take any job they can get. Instead, look for a school that genuinely values professional practice, mentoring, and professional standards. The goal isn't just employment; it's learning your craft from teachers and leaders who have real expertise in developing that craft in others.

It wasn't a throwaway line. A PLN isn't an abstract concept; it's actual relationships with actual people you can call on, often stretching well beyond the walls of any one school. I extended the idea into something almost architectural: know your “six degrees of separation.” Every teacher you meet knows another teacher, who knows another, and those connections built over coaching sessions, conferences, shared coursework, social media, quietly become the scaffolding of a career. I shared that sometimes, all it takes is one person who believes in your potential to redirect the entire trajectory of your work.

Treat the First Years as a Journey, Not a Test
Maybe the most reassuring thread running through the comments was this: your first years aren't a performance test. They're a learning journey. Reflect often. Seek feedback. Adapt without shame. Great teachers, several people noted, aren't born fully formed, they're built through continuous iteration.

This idea showed up again in a line that's worth pinning above any new teacher's desk: don't spend your first years trying to prove you're a teacher - spend them becoming one. “Act from Clarity: not proving yourself but improving yourself.” You're not expected to arrive as a finished product. You're expected to keep growing, and that's the job, not a failure to meet some invisible bar.

Choose Your School as Carefully as It Chooses You
Tied closely to this was the recurring call to find a mentor and then ask that mentor which teachers are worth observing. I was curious - do early-career teachers need to actively seek out a mentor, does the school provide one, and how do you even know if a mentor is effective? It's a fair question.

Relationships Are the Curriculum Beneath the Curriculum
If there was a single word that recurred more than any other, it was relationships. One commenter distilled it into “the 3 Rs: relationships, relationships, relationships” - always remembering the person behind the student, facilitating learning rather than simply “teaching,” and investing time in the craft because it pays dividends later.

As one commenter put it, kids won't remember whether every lesson was perfect; they'll remember how you made them feel, whether you believed in them, and whether your classroom felt like somewhere they belonged. I linked this comment directly to Maya Angelou's famous line about people forgetting what you said and did, but never how you made them feel. It's a cliché because it's true, and this thread made it feel true again.

Take Care of Yourself; You Are the Resource
Amid all the talk of craft and connection, there was a firm, practical warning: teaching will drain you if you don't put boundaries in place. You are an essential resource, and turning your attention toward the human beings in your life, not the flashy distractions, matters as much professionally as personally.

One reply reframed self-care not as an act of selfishness but as basic maintenance: it's okay to switch off. It's okay not to turn metaphorical cartwheels in every single lesson. Being kind to yourself was named explicitly as part of being a good teacher, not a departure from it. I offered the metaphor that came from my own mentor: teaching is a vortex. Advice easy to hear, harder to believe, until you're a few years in and it clicks.

Focus on What You Can Control
A particularly clarifying piece of advice came in the form of a short mantra: "control the controllables". You can't control every student, parent, policy, or curveball. But you can control your preparation, your mindset, the relationships you build, and how you show up each day. I tied this back to a specific piece of pop culture wisdom invoking “Let It Go” from Frozen as a genuine coping mechanism for the things outside a teacher's control. It's a small, funny detail, but it points at something real: sustainable teaching means knowing the difference between what's yours to fix and what isn't.

Don't Reinvent the Wheel  
Several experienced educators gently pushed back against the instinct many new teachers have to build everything from scratch. Borrow. Adapt. Learn from those who've done this work before you. I summed up this comment by simply stating that teachers should recognise that we stand on the shoulders of giants.

This connects to a broader point about not doing the job alone. It might be your class and your students, but good teachers lean on their teams, and great teams pool their strengths to meet the needs of every learner. No one, not even the most naturally gifted teacher is meant to carry this work solo.

Stay a Learner Yourself
Being “eligible to teach” is a starting line, not a finish line. Several commenters emphasized that the education journey has to continue. Always be willing to learn more, adapt as you learn more, and hold onto what I called “confident humility.” (Recommendation: Read Adam Grant: Think Again)

This extended into a broader philosophical note: teachers are in a formative phase of “becoming.” Who you are as a teacher is dynamic, not fixed, but your “why” should stay steady underneath it. Spend real time examining and understanding your purpose. Talk, read, and think your way into meaning. And never underestimate the simple power of kindness and smiling at your students.

Find Your “experienced” and Find the Marigolds 

One especially memorable piece of advice, offered almost in passing, was this: find your experienced; find the veteran educators around you and let them shape you. Someone followed it up sharing about Marigold and I shared Jennifer Gonzalez's well-known piece on “Marigolds”. The idea that some colleagues help you grow and thrive, while others quietly stunt you, and that new teachers should actively seek out the marigolds in their building.

See as Many Great Teachers as You Can

The thread closed on a simple, almost old-fashioned piece of advice: see as many amazing teachers in practice as you can. I commented on the “Pineapple Chart”: a system some schools use to let teachers signal when their classroom is open for others to drop in and observe, and reflected on the privilege of being the coach who connected effective practitioners across a school. Watching great teaching in action, it turns out, may still be one of the most underrated forms of professional development available.

The Thread's Real Advice

Strip away the specifics, and this LinkedIn thread was really saying one thing in a dozen different voices: teaching is not something you arrive at; it's something you keep becoming, with other people's help. Build your network. Find your mentors. Take care of yourself. Focus on what's yours to control. And remember that long after your students forget the lesson plans, they'll remember how you made them feel.

For anyone eligible to teach and wondering where to start, I hope the advice shared by my professional learning network provides a helpful starting point.

Always curious,

Andrea

"Know the Source Before You Cite It"

A citation is a shortcut for trust. It says I didn't make this up, someone researched it, here's who and where. That shortcut only works if you've actually read what you're pointing to. 

Knowing the source means more than the reference itself. It means knowing what question the authors set out to answer, what evidence the claims were built on, and whether they ever went back and revised their own work later.

Most people skip that last part. It means reading past the one sentence that supports your point, to the sentences right after it that complicate it. A claim that leadership matters usually comes with a caveat that the effect is moderate and indirect. Often, nobody quotes the caveat.

 

Cherry-picking isn't always dishonest on purpose. Sometimes it's just easier. Read the abstract, pull the line that fits, move on. I get it, reading a whole paper takes time and most people don't have it, or think they don't. But the whole value of citing research is borrowing its rigour, and rigour doesn't transfer through one sentence. It transfers through the whole argument, caveats included.

 

Before you cite something, ask yourself honestly: have I read this, or have I read a version of this that already agrees with me? If it's the second one, the research isn't backing your position. You're backing it into a role it was never built for.

Reading the whole paper is the minimum, and anyone can do it. But when I question a citation, I reach out the author. Many in educational research are generous and happy to answer any questions about their research. 

Thank you to those who continue to keep me connected with educational research.

Three Events. One Question.

Last week was one of those weeks that reminded me why I do what I do. Three very different professional learning experiences. Three very different communities of people. And one question that kept surfacing for me: are we doing enough to ensure that professional learning actually meets people where they are? As a coach, I think about this all the time. Coaching, at its heart, is about meeting the individual where they're at. That is, understanding their context, their starting point, their goals, and designing a learning journey that serves them. Professional learning, when it's done well, should do exactly the same thing. Last week offered no shortage of ideas, questions, and observations to reflect upon.

When One Person Speaks to Many Worlds

The week began at school, where our Principal, Chris Bradbury and Prof Phil Cummins had organised professional learning across several different communities- our student school leaders, our leadership team, an ACT Teachers' Guild event that brought together staff and educators from across the ACT, and a masterclass for our parents and carers. Each group was distinct. Each brought different experiences, different questions, different needs.

It was so interesting to watch Phil navigate each audience across different sessions. Phil and I have known each other and each other's work for years. That matters more than we sometimes acknowledge. He was able to draw the through-line between professional learning and coaching in a way that resonated deeply for me, because he understood the lens I bring to this work. When someone already knows you, your thinking, your values, your professional history, the conversation starts somewhere different. That's the power of relationship in professional learning, and it's something no program or platform can replicate.
 
It's also what I kept returning to across the whole week: the moments that mattered most were the ones built on connection. Reconnecting with educators I hadn't seen in years. Conversations that picked up where they left off. The particular ease that comes when someone already knows your work, and you know theirs. That kind of knowing is what coaching is built on, and it's what the best professional learning is built on too.

EduTECH Sydney: Big Energy, Little Space to Think

EduTECH was a different experience entirely. Huge. Energetic. I've known Andy Hargreaves for years and always enjoy his presentations, so it was great to catch his keynote and then fall into one of our long conversations afterwards about the things keeping leaders, teachers and academics up at night: the current climate in schools, the teacher shortage crisis, and the complicated role that tech and social media are playing in it all.                    

The workshops were embedded within the commercial exhibition space, which created a kind of noise, literal and metaphorical, that was hard to escape. Some sessions had you wearing headphones just to hear the presenter, which meant losing those small spontaneous moments of turning to the person beside you to share a thought. Others relied on microphones and good listening skills, both of which were tested against the constant ambient hum of a busy conference floor. People moved constantly around you, not necessarily in search of learning, but for products, connections, the next shiny thing. It was at times overwhelming, and yet that's the nature of an event this size. The value is still there, just buried a little deeper. You have to go looking for it, usually in the quieter corners, in the unplanned conversations that end up staying with you long after you've forgotten the slide decks. 

What I noticed most was what was missing: silence. Space to think. A quiet corner to process what you'd just heard. I tried to have informal conversations with people during sessions, but we had to physically remove ourselves from the space to do it. Randomly meeting up in different parts of the world, Dr John Cleary is one of the most generous people I've had the privilege of learning from. He freely gives his time and knowledge in a way that stays with you and his way of being is inspiring. I feel lucky to have crossed paths year ago and valued our informal chat in a quieter space. The opportunity to debrief, discuss, or ask the what ifs or share your wonderings was limited, yet, the message was clear. AI is here, and the sessions that cut through the noise did so because they asked the right questions.

 

Laura Bain asked, What if we designed schools today? Her presentation reminded me of Sir Ken Robinson and do you remember, “Most Likely to Succeed” (Wagner & Dintersmith) and “What School Could Be” (Dintersmith). The big questions haven't changed. We just keep finding new reasons to avoid answering them.

 

The conversation around AI in education has been dominated by fear. Fear that students are cheating, that assessment is broken, that we've lost control of what we can measure. But that's the wrong starting point. Used thoughtfully, AI has the potential to personalise learning, provide meaningful feedback, and free teachers and administrators to do the human work that no algorithm can replace. 

That brought me to a question I haven't been able to shake: who is going to help teachers learn about AI and how it is influencing teaching and learning that is sometimes reflected in assessment. I thought about ISTE in 2013 and 2015, where I met technology coaches who were embedded in classrooms. Those who are skilled, knowledgeable educators whose job was to work alongside teachers to integrate technology meaningfully. Do we need that model again, but for AI?

Leaving EduTECH, I was struck by how quickly AI is evolving and much there is to learn. However, we all need space that learning deserves. Teachers can't do it alone, and sessions at a conference will never be enough. We need to think carefully about how we enable that learning, and about who we trust to lead it. 

 

The EA Conference: A Reminder That PL Is For Everyone

The third experience was a mini conference for Executive Assistants orchestrated by Kristine Niven. I joined because I wanted to support this event and hear my previous principal, Dr Briony Scott, present. But I also joined because, as Director of Professional Practice, I genuinely believe that professional learning is not just for teachers but for all staff who support the education within the school community.

It's a message that still needs to be said, loudly and often: every person in a school community deserves access to meaningful professional growth. EAs do extraordinary work. It's complex, relational, demanding, and yet they are often the last to be included in professional learning conversations. Watching that room come alive, watching people feel seen and valued in their professional roles, was a powerful reminder of the importance of inclusion and acknowledgement.

So Where Does This Leave Me?

Three experiences. Three very different communities. And the same thread running through all of them: professional learning needs to evolve to truly serve the individual.
 
As a coach, I know that the most powerful growth happens when someone feels known, when the learning is relevant to their actual work, and when there is space. The space has to be genuine and protected, to reflect, to question, to make meaning. We don't always build that into our school day or professional learning programs. We build content, we build schedules, we build programs. But do we build in the conditions that actually make learning stick? 
 
EduTECH showed me what happens when those conditions are missing...when there is noise but no silence, content but no conversation, presentations but no processing. The learning gets crowded out.
 
The EA conference showed me what happens when a group of people who are at times overlooked are given their own space to learn and connect. They thrive.
 
And the school-embedded PL reminded me that when you know your people, when the facilitator understands the room and the room trusts the facilitator, real things happen.
 
Professional learning is changing. It has to. The world our teachers are navigating brings rapid change and increasing complexity. This world demands something more responsive, more personalised, more human centred. I'm still sitting with the question of what that looks like in practice for a Pre-K through to Year 12 school that consists of teaching and non-teaching staff. But I know it starts with this: treat every learner as an individual with something to bring and something to grow into. Offer as much opportunity and experiences, and learn from other schools globally.

What does professional learning look like in your context? And who in your school community might be missing out on it?

Presenters and People I Connected With at EduTECH

Part of what makes a conference worthwhile is the people. Here are some of the sessions I attended and the educators I was lucky enough to learn from.
 

Sessions

•      MC Annabel Astbury (met at ISTE, USA in 2015, and she greeted me with, "Your boss is married to my boss!")
•      Aunty Julie Jones: Welcome to Country and Performance
•      Dr Andy Hargreaves: Teaching to repair the world: How to retain AND sustain a strong teaching profession
•      Dr Jason Reynolds: Literacy as liberation: Reimagining engagement for the TikTok generation
•      Matt Esterman, Anna Sever, Paul Tame: AI in the classroom: Supporting teaching and learning in practice
•      Dr Nick Jackson: AI ethics that doesn't bore learners to death
•      Dr Sarah McKay: Neuromyth to neuroscience: How to talk about the teenage brain
•      Julian Ridden, Adam Biggs, Peta Hicks: Smarter work, better outcomes: Using technology in education
•      Dr Andrew Fuller: Converting neurodiversity into neuro-advantage
•      Laura Bain: What if we designed schools today?
•      Dr John Cleary, Jenny Hanson, Dr Dan Edwards, Dr Theo Clark and Scott O'Hara: Assessment reimagined: Charting the future for learners

Friends and Colleagues

Educators I was lucky enough to reconnect with through a simple smile, hello or hug: Carolyn Morrison, Briony Scott, Terrie Jones, Adam Voigt, Brenda Quayle, Bron Stuckey, Andy Draper, Sarah Warby, Hugh Gundlach, and the Radford IT Team. These are the connections that remind you the education community is small, generous, and worth showing up for.

Staying Curious,

Andrea

"Embracing Duality: Finding Value in Contrasting Perspectives"

Recently, I've come across comments or specific points of view, and I'm curious about the sources people use to acquire knowledge. Last week I presented my doctoral research at the AIS research symposium. Several individuals have expressed interest in my study and my viewpoint on doctoral research. This led me to reevaluate my perspective, which is primarily shaped by my personal experiences, the reading of research texts, and discussions with individuals who possess greater knowledge and experience.

                                                                                      PhD or EdD

Which option is more advantageous depends on your goals. Students who wish to apply research to address real-world educational challenges often choose an EdD, a professional doctorate that is more practical. Individuals who aspire to become educators, administrators, policymakers, or organizational leaders frequently choose this degree. EdD programs emphasise practical research applications to enhance educational systems, policies, and practices, making them ideal for those who want to influence schools, districts, or education-focused groups. 

 

If you aspire to work in academia or research, where publishing and contributing to educational theory are significant, a PhD may be the most advantageous choice. While both pathways may be equally challenging and rewarding, each offers a unique approach to influencing education. I have spoken to friends in various countries who see both as different but equally valued. However, people here in Australia have said in passing, "You're only doing an EdD, not a PhD." I am curious if this viewpoint is evident in other countries.

To distinguish my EdD from a PhD, I wrote in my thesis: "A professional doctorate requires the dual role of practitioner and researcher. The intention of this professional doctorate is for me to develop a deeper understanding of research (Fox & Slade, 2014) and generate a “substantive piece of research in the field relevant” (Wildy et al., 2015, p. 768) for my professional practice as a coach and educator (Stringer, 2024).

Quantitative or Qualitative

Someone recently told me that he doesn't think qualitative data is sufficient and that he only values and reads research with quantitative data. This was the last thing I needed to hear before I presented my research. 

 

Some people feel quantitative data is “better” than qualitative data because it seems more objective, precise, and straightforward to analyse. People often perceive quantitative data as more reliable and less biased, citing the solidity and trustworthiness of numbers and statistical methods. Additionally, the use of standardised measurements in quantitative research allows for study replication, a crucial aspect in science for validating results. The precision of numbers also simplifies the measurement and comparison of findings; when comparing average scores across groups, the structured data simplifies the comparison process. Because quantitative methods often rely on larger sample sizes, people feel more comfortable using these results to make broader conclusions about bigger populations. Numbers also help turn complex information into clear statistics, charts, and graphs, making it easier to spot trends and patterns at a glance. In my research, one principal stated, "The qualitative evidence within doesn't meet muster with the quantitative evidence required by external authorities." 

 

However, qualitative data offers a unique depth and richness, capturing context, motives, feelings, and experiences—elements that quantitative data may overlook. This human side provides insights that reveal the “why” behind the numbers, bringing added meaning that pure statistics can’t fully capture. It was crucial to me to convey the perspectives and narratives of the coaches, principals, and early career educators. I am intrigued by the reasons why certain individuals do not believe that both equally contribute to educational research.

Scholar or Practitioner

I've heard some comments suggesting that it's impossible to excel in both areas. One individual expressed that I wasn't the 'academic' type, while another suggested that I should focus on my strengths and stay within my area of expertise. I'll let you sit with that comment. When I was provided an opportunity to develop my scholarly skills, I was advised that I should not consider the invitation to join the journal board, as I had not yet graduated. While I continue to engage with others and listen to their perspectives, these examples illustrate various perspectives that often influence decisions. It can be challenging to understand the culture when entering a new field; however, listening to too many people may possibly undermine your confidence.

While practitioner-researchers, scholar-practitioners, and pracademics all describe people who navigate both practical and intellectual worlds, they have different focuses. While the three terms reflect a blend of practical and academic pursuits, they each emphasise different aspects of that integration.

Practitioner-Researchers are individuals who not only work in their field but actively engage in research. They use data and evidence to inform their practice, aiming to improve outcomes. Their primary focus is on applying research methods to enhance practical effectiveness and find ways to implement research findings in real-world situations. The lead coaches in my study consistently pursued research to disseminate their expertise across their coaching staff, while enhancing their coaching practice.

Scholar-Practitioners highlight the dual roles of being a practitioner and a scholar. These individuals blend academic knowledge with hands-on experience, applying theoretical frameworks to solve practical problems. While they engage in research, they prioritise teaching, mentoring, and applying their scholarly insights to real-world challenges. Consultants with doctorates often apply theoretical knowledge, establishing evidence-based courses, which they facilitate in schools.

Pracademics engage in scholarly work while also applying their knowledge in practical settings. They may not emphasise the research aspect as strongly as the other two terms but they still contribute meaningfully to both fields. Their objective is frequently to provide a bridge between theory and practice, thereby, enhancing both with their perspectives. I have consistently prioritised bridging the divide, and this is where I see myself. 

What conclusions have I drawn from pondering this blog post? Base your selections on your enthusiasm, expertise, and independent research. Exercise caution against external negative influence, and believe in yourself. You don't want to regret squandered opportunities.  

Stay Curious,

Andrea

Burnard, P., Dragovic, T., Ottewell, K., & Lim, W. M. (2018). Voicing the professional doctorate and the researching professional's identity: Theorizing the EdD's uniqueness. London Review of Education,, 16(1), 40-55. 

Campbell, P., Hollweck, T., & Netolicky, D. M. (2023). Grappling with pracademia in education: Forms, functions, and futures. In (pp. 65-83). Springer International Publishing. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-33746-8_6 

Fox, A., & Slade, B. (2014). What impact can organisations expect from professional doctorates? Professional Development in Education, 40(4), 546-560. https://doi.org/10.1080/19415257.2013.843579 

Poultney, V. (2010). Challenging the PhD: Managing the alignment of an EdD programme alongside a traditional PhD pathway. Work Based Learning e-Journal, 1(1), 71-84.

Stringer, A. (2024). Coaching Early Career Teachers: Exploring the Implementation of Coaching in Schools for Professional Growth. University of New South Wales.]. University of New South Wales Library. 

Wildy, H., Peden, S., & Chan, K. (2015). The rise of professional doctorates: Case studies of the Doctorate in Education in China, Iceland and Australia. Studies in Higher Education, 40(5), 761-774. https://doi.org/10.1080/03075079.2013.842968 

Slayed the Dragon

Regrettably, my first year of school was highly memorable for all the wrong reasons, and this was only one of the contributing factors. In Grade 1, reading was my nemesis. I vividly recall strategising to read the smallest paragraph during round-robin sessions, driven by an intense desire to escape any unwanted attention. That year, once brimming with confidence and curiosity, I transformed into an anxious, self-doubting student struggling with words on a page. While I initially relied on memorizing words, I eventually discovered that glasses were the solution. Although using glasses resolved the reading problem, the experience had long-lasting consequences. Despite confidently performing ballet in front of audiences, reading and speaking to an audience remained challenging. 25 years later, as a mature-aged student, I had extreme nervousness and anxiety before my first university presentation, to the extent that I was physically ill. 

My journey took a pivotal turn with my first mentor, Japhy, during my practicum teaching. His curiosity about my nervousness about reading aloud led to a deeper understanding of my past. He provided me with the space and encouragement to develop these skills, and within a few weeks, I was leading lessons and reading aloud to other classes. Through Japhy, I learned the profound importance of understanding the "why" behind a lack of confidence.

Fast forward a few years, and my professional roles required more public speaking and leading workshops that developed my skills. A university recently requested my participation in a Q&A session, which evolved into a 45–60-minute presentation devoid of slides. Surprisingly, the hour flew by, and I relished the experience. I drew on my identities as a researcher, teacher, and coach, and for the first time, I felt excited and calm about presenting my research.

Today, I presented my research to doctoral students and candidates from numerous EdD cohorts and their supervisors. Due to the inability to access my notes, I resorted to speaking to the slides. Although it was not flawless, I felt relaxed and comfortable. Today, I closed the chapter on my doctoral journey and celebrate the improvement of my ability to talk confidently in public. As is the case with any issue that is not resolved at the outset, my dragon grew. My journey from that anxious Grade 1 student to a confident presenter may have taken years, but today I finally feel that I slayed the dragon.

Thanks for reading,

Andrea

Empowering Educators: Navigating AI, Teacher Agency, and Lesson Planning

In November 2022, ChatGPT became publicly available, marking its initial release for widespread use. This milestone allowed users to interact with the model and explore its capabilities. However, as I approached the final stages of submitting my thesis after four years of work, caution prevailed. With universities lacking clear guidelines or established regulations, exploring AI was not an option for me. It was more important to me to err on the side of caution and safeguard my research and professional standing. 

Today's landscape often resides in shades of grey rather than black and white. Is using spell check or Microsoft Editor cheating? Is it the same as hiring someone to edit your thesis? Arguments for and against AI in research abound. I felt it was crucial to grasp the fundamentals first. For example, students must develop number sense before relying on calculators. I needed to master research basics without AI's influence on my methodology or thinking. I view research as reflecting one's professional experience, ethos, and personal approach. Ethical considerations loom large in AI's use, both personally and professionally. Issues of data privacy, confidentiality, and ownership pose significant questions. When does work cease to be solely yours? When and where should AI be used to promote learning and provide support?

I have been contemplating ways to provide additional support for beginning teachers, particularly in light of the teacher shortages. I interact with pre-service and early career teachers and pursue methods to enhance their teaching and learning. A lesson plan can serve as a scaffold for newcomers to the field, and understanding its components is essential. Lesson plans are roadmaps that specify the outcomes, materials, procedures, and assessment methods for a single class period. It concentrates on the lesson's teaching content, activities, discussions, and assessments, frequently down to minute-by-minute instructions. Experienced teachers don't often create lesson plans to guide their teaching but rely on units or work that are more detailed than the program. Despite its time-intensive nature, crafting a lesson plan fosters invaluable learning. It teaches pacing, activity differentiation, and formative assessment integration, ensuring students understand in real time.

While ChatGPT can generate lesson plans, empowering beginning teachers to create their own is paramount. Lesson planning is the foundation for teacher autonomy, as it ensures structured, efficient content delivery, supports diverse student needs, and enhances the overall coherence of the learning experience. In essence, lesson planning is not merely a procedural task; it allows teachers to demonstrate their professional competence, make educated instructional decisions, and ultimately improve student learning results. Then, once the process has been mastered, employ ChatGPT to create lesson plans that can be tailored to reflect the context and your creativity.

I am looking forward to reading Matt and Nick's new book, The Next Word. 

Always learning,

p.s. Today, I explored using AI to create a lesson plan. My prompts: Create a lesson plan for a Year 2 maths class in New South Wales focused on 2-dimensional shapes. The lesson period is 45 minutes. Include a literature book related to shapes. Include formative assessment. The lesson plan resembled one I had created 15 years ago and even included the same 'The Greedby Triangle' book. Nevertheless, sometimes you don't know what you don't know; therefore, it is essential to learn from and interact with others in the field. 

My 100th blogpost in 10 years.

Today is a significant milestone as I celebrate my 100th blog post! Looking back to where it all began a decade ago, with the encouragement of my friend Matt Esterman, fills me with gratitude. I started this journey with a flurry of content, but during my doctoral years, the frequency took a hit – except when Prof Sahlberg nudged my cohort to pen Op-Eds located in April & May 2019. (shoutout to Pasi for the push!). Today, I've decided to take a stroll down memory lane by revisiting my previous blog posts, including a reflective piece from 2020. For me, this blog serves as more than just words on a screen; it captures snapshots of my evolving thoughts, beliefs, and experiences, akin to entries in a personal diary. I analysed my writing in search of recurring themes and common threads and discovered change, connection, continuous learning, collaboration, and coaching.

Reflecting on my journey, I remember my first entry about not feeling smart enough for university and the apprehension I felt before hitting the publish button. The level of vulnerability required felt overwhelming, as I lacked the confidence to share my thoughts without seeking approval from others. But over time, I've grown in confidence, addressing complex educational issues such as I'll ride with you, More than Thanks, and teacher retention, naturally intertwining my personal experiences with my teaching identity.

Identity isn't static; it's a complex tapestry woven from personal and professional experiences, qualifications, personality traits, and values. Context and role responsibilities also play a significant role in shaping who we are. As I've navigated through different experiences and contexts over the years, I've watched my identity shift and evolve like a chameleon adapting to its surroundings. Change is inevitable, and it's only natural that our identities evolve along with us.

Connecting with others has always been a cornerstone of education. The post titled "So, what's in it for you?" struck a chord with many, and for good reason. Back then, Twitter was the driving force behind the growth of TeachMeets, fostering learning and forging connections among schools, leaders, and educators. As a moderator of Twitter Chats, such as #SatchOC, I witnessed firsthand the power of these digital platforms in facilitating meaningful exchanges and professional growth. Building relationships and cultivating a professional learning network (PLN) became more than just buzzwords—they were essential elements of thriving in the educational landscape. Whether it was connecting with academics or fellow educators, whether it involved climbing a bridge or venturing to professional learning opportunities overseas, the quest for knowledge and camaraderie knows no bounds. 

Collaboration and connection have always been recurring themes in my blog posts, evident in numerous entries over the last decade. Whether venturing to schools in Canberra or Brisbane, or Southern NSW or more locally, the spirit of learning through collaboration thrived. One area where collaboration truly shone was in coaching and continuous learning. It's no surprise that coaching made frequent appearances throughout my posts. In a world where the mantra "out with the old and in with the new" often reigns supreme, I challenged this notion. Self-determination and recognizing the expertise within the classroom have also been recurring themes. Being observed in the classroom wasn't just a professional expectation; it served as a pivotal moment for engaging in meaningful coaching conversations. It was through these observations and subsequent discussions that true growth and evolution were nurtured.

From highlighting the invaluable guidance of coaches in my life to reflecting on classroom observations, the journey of growth and development was a constant thread. One of the highlights of this journey was my Fellowship to the US, which I documented in eight captivating blog posts under the hashtag #EdVentures, back in June and July of 2015. These posts and others chronicle my professional growth and showcase how I seamlessly blended work with play, blurring the lines between the two.

Throughout my blogging journey, the theme of leadership and women in leadership remained prominent, from celebrating women role models and raising me up, to supporting and advocating for gender equality. Peter Holmes so aptly said, "We need gender mix in leadership. We're all stronger & wiser for it." Rennaisance Women Leaders' Network featured strongly as we celebrated the collective and those who inspire. I explored this topic with passion. 

My doctoral journey has been filled with unexpected challenges and pleasant surprises, yet it has been a defining chapter in my life characterised by resilience, perseverance, and ultimately, achievement. What's truly remarkable is how my blog posts have evolved into a visual representation of this professional growth journey, aligning closely with the topics and themes explored in my thesis. It's fascinating to observe how the concepts I pondered in my early blog entries, such as coaching, self-determination, proving or improving and the delicate balance of confidence and humility, resonate deeply with the findings of my academic research. This alignment is particularly noteworthy considering it predates the publication of Adam Grant's "Think Again" and his discourse on confident humility. What initially may have appeared as simple musings have now transformed into tangible reflections of my evolving beliefs and values. 

Despite time, the foundational principles that guided my early writings have remained steadfast, illuminating my path through academic and professional pursuits.  Among the myriad posts, one stands out as a catalyst for change: it ignited the creation of #ConnectTheDocs, a movement I regard as the epitome of networking, education, and achievement melded seamlessly. This initiative serves as a testament to the profound impact of collaboration and community in empowering individuals striving to enact positive change in the educational landscape of tomorrow.

Thanks for reading,