A cautionary tale for anyone who transfers knowledge (teaches or trains others) at home, in the community or at the office, and would like their learners to feel like the girls in this cover photo look (happy, hopeful, eager to learn).
Vigeland Sculpture Park, Oslo, Norway
It should have been easy for me. I’ve learned 5 languages across pretty much every modality: English natively as a kid with a bilingual mother, at school and university in Australia, Italy and Indonesia, from textbooks and family for Spanish, and from patient friends, children’s books and my students’ families in Japan.
I’ve also taught languages for decades: English in 8 countries, Italian to Australians wanting to tour in Italy, and functional Indonesian to expats with staff in Bali.
Regardless of the teacher, the books, or the environment you’d think I’d be able to nail Norwegian.
You’d be wrong.
I know how to learn a language. The mechanics. The discipline required. Building on your knowledge and skills over time. It wasn’t the conjugations that got me, Italian prepared me for that, my brain went into hyperfocus chanting verb sets until they stuck. It wasn’t the characters either; Japanese has 4 alphabets, I got my head around 3. It wasn’t the ‘false friends’ that nearly broke me learning Spanish after Italian. It also had nothing to do with the textbooks, the online format, or the fact that it was group based learning.
It was how the classes made me feel.
Small comments, repeated often enough, do something quiet and cumulative. You’re not keeping up. You’re not doing enough homework. You’re doing it wrong. Nothing dramatic on any one occasion, but just enough, often enough, over an 8 week period, to grind me down to a point where I withdrew from the class. Because turning off your microphone and your video because you’re in tears in class again, is just not OK.
I tried again with a different teacher who was lovely, kind, and so patient, but it was too late. Every time I opened the textbook, that same heaviness showed up before the lesson even started, to the point where I was choosing to deep clean the bathroom instead of doing my homework. I just couldn’t get the enthusiasm for it back.
30+ years learning languages internationally. 25+ years teaching languages and training teachers to do it well. Despite having all the resources, all the replays, all the apps, all the supportive Norwegian speaking people around me, the desire was gone (and a few months later, it still has not returned, although I haven’t given up hope! Perhaps I’ll give Notebook LM a go at teaching me, so I can report back to you on how successful AI driven tools can be for language learners!)
You could lay the ‘blame’ in a lot of different areas (mine included), and I could list all the teaching strategies that failed me as a beginner Norwegian speaker, but here’s the thing that really created this conundrum.
The teacher didn’t know me: my motivations for learning, the level I was aspiring to, or how I was going to use that language in the real world. Because of that, so many of her comments, directives and admonishments were completely out of line but she had no idea.
When you’re responsible for someone’s learning experience, you hold real power whether you realise it or not. You can help someone build confidence that carries them for life, or you can quietly (and unknowingly) chip away at them until they walk away from something they were always capable of.
How would you prefer your learners to feel?
Most of the time, it’s not one big moment, and it’s not something most people deliberately do. It’s the culmination of multiple small comments, misplaced assumptions and a lack of understanding who your learner is, how they learn, and why they’re learning from you in the first place. It’s easy to do: being the expert, knowing you have knowledge and skills to share, and thinking you have a formula that will work for everyone.
If that is your approach, the result can be learners like me – capable, motivated and eager – who end up with their confidence stripped and their desire to return to learning that subject (with anyone, not just you), gone.
So here’s my challenge to you — next time you’re in front of a learner, in any capacity, ask yourself: do I know why they’re here? Do I know their motivations for learning? Do I know their end goals? Am I taking the time to get to know them, build trust and figure out how they learn best?
If not, you may unknowingly be pushing them away from their goals, their purpose and perhaps even their potential career.
To learn is our birthright. To teach, is to be human.
We have a responsibility, and a choice.
What legacy are you leaving?
Hallo! If you’re curious about the ideas explored in this article and how I might be able to help, please book in for a quick (complimentary) chat! Every client is different, which is why I have lots of different ways of helping – whether it’s an upcoming event, free resources on my website or one to one coaching, let’s work out the best fit for you and your unique scenario!
Continue the Learning
If you’d like to explore these ideas further, the resources below may be a helpful next step.
Further Reading
If this topic has sparked your thinking, you may find the following articles helpful. Each explores a different aspect of creating learning experiences that are engaging, practical, and meaningful.
Why do we need to rethink workplace learning?
In this article, Maria unpacks why so much learning fails to land, from death by PowerPoint and tick and flick online courses, to chaotic induction processes and outdated, top down, lecture style workplace cultures.
Everyone’s a Teacher
Maria Doyle’s book Everyone’s a Teacher explores the principles behind engaging, effective learning experiences. It introduces a practical methodology for making learning more interactive, memorable, and meaningful — whether you’re working with students, professionals, or teams.