From educator to LXD—where I got it wrong
By Mike Wojtaszewski | Senior Learning Experience Designer
I was an educator for 7 years before breaking into the Learning Experience Design (LXD) world. Yes, I use the word “breaking” because I genuinely felt as if there was a wall that I needed to tear down. It took me about 1.5 years of actively applying and interviewing to make the transition. I was so frustrated by this process. After each rejection, I was told I don’t have managerial experience. My reaction was, “Of course I do! I manage 150 students plus their parents and guardians. That’s like 500 people!” I was frequently asked about my design process, and I always responded with, “Of course I employ design thinking to build my instruction.”
I thought that being an educator meant I was also an LXD. I was wrong, but not entirely.
I’m now a senior learning experience designer and project lead for Studio 5 Learning + Development as well as an assistant professor at Harvard Extension School. I learned—maybe not as quickly as others—that the skill sets that I developed as an educator definitely underpin the role of an LXD, but there were many other critical skill sets that I needed to develop in order to fully don the LXD hat.
This post is for all the classroom educators ready to transition out, and those who are in limbo between the classroom and the LXD world. Here, I’m going to unpack 3 main differences.
LXDs use a different language.
Classroom management and management are similar, but not the same.
Collaboration, feedback, and “less than perfect” are hallmarks of this industry.
LXDs use a different language.
I was meeting with a colleague—a veteran in the field—to discuss a new design approach the team would adopt in the near future. We began with an easy discussion of different design models and ones that my colleague used in the past. I was familiar with these—of course I know ADDIE. Suddenly, I felt as if someone hit the translate button on the TV as I was bombarded with terms I knew but that didn’t make sense in the context of our conversation. I thought I just needed more coffee. I mean, I did, but I also realized something: my definitions of the terms being used were slightly different. I wasn’t wrong, but I also wasn’t completely accurate.
I said assessment, they said evaluation. I said learning outcomes, they said learning objectives. I said mediums, they said modalities. I said content outline, they said design map.
Fundamentally, all of these terms tracked to the same concept. Yet I learned quickly that I needed to dial in my language to fit the industry. There are many terms out there that are used interchangeably—sometimes accurately, and other times inaccurately. But, I had to learn the language of my audience, which made me also wonder whether or not my previously failed attempts to enter the LXD world were about my experience or about how I talked about it.
Bottom line: Learn and adopt LXD language. Then showcase it.
Try this:
Familiarize yourself with the language through research. Start here and follow the rabbit hole.
Review your resume and substitute classroom tasks with LXD terms. For example, instead of writing “develop assessments to evaluate learner mastery of learner outcomes,” consider writing “design level two evaluations to analyze learner mastery of terminal learning objectives.”
If you’re new to a team or working on a contract job, don’t take for granted the terms that are used. Confirm that you understand what version someone means or what kind of language to use when talking about objectives. It could save a lot of time and money.
Classroom management and management are similar, but not the same.
Full disclosure: this realization hurt a little. It took me several experiences to finally realize what the difference was. I am no expert on management, but this is the story of my aha moment.
I was working on a project with a thought partner developing content for their managers. This particular manager topic was about team collaboration. I was in a conversation with the thought partner discussing the difference between collaboration and coordination when they asked me to provide an example of collaboration that I experienced during the current project. I responded with a top-of-mind answer. They said, “That sounds more like coordination to me.”
It was one of those moments where I felt the ground fall out from under me. Aside from feeling embarrassed that I clearly crossed wires on the definition of collaboration and coordination, their callout made me realize that I didn’t have managerial experience—at least not fully.
Classroom management, organizational management, and project management do have some very clear parallels.
As a teacher, I coordinated. I planned ahead to ensure we met our benchmarks and pacing guides. I delivered content, and, if a learner did not turn something in, I communicated with them and their parents/guardians to get what was needed. I instituted processes, held the class accountable to them, and modified them as needed.
I developed my learners one-on-one. I was responsible for skill development. I invested in supporting each learner throughout the year. We set goals, and I provided strategies to help them achieve those goals. I offered advice on social interactions and assisted in troubleshooting breakdowns in group dynamics.
Managers and educators alike are held to each of these responsibilities. But the key difference, in my opinion, is the motivation of those being “managed.”
My classroom learners were significantly extrinsically motivated. I built a timeline and designed experiences that met district and state learning targets. I created tasks and assigned them. I provided feedback and grades. I led the charge toward learning goals, and they followed, with opportunities for choice and autonomy along the way. I asked them to create goals, and I ensured that every process ran smoothly—or smoothly (ish). To put it bluntly, I created the journey, and the learners were just along for the ride.
The colleagues that I support as a manager and project lead are more intrinsically motivated. They sought out the position and culture that best matched their skill sets, passions, and needs. They seek out feedback and strive to grow. They take ownership of their work and iterate on outstanding deliverables. In the end, they chose to partner with the Studio 5 team and work toward building a learning solution that best fits the thought partner’s needs. My role is to convey the strategy, support the workstream, and set each team member up for success—even if that means getting out of the way.
I know, it’s a little squishy, right? We have had learners that really do take ownership of their learning and grow independently. And there are employees who, even with the right support, come to work just for the paycheck. Even so, varying levels of motivation are at play. I’ve realized that it is the role of a manager to uncover what motivates each team member and then support them in their growth journey.
Bottom line: Classroom management and managerial experience are similar, but not the same. In your specific role as an educator, identify where those differences are.
Try this:
Familiarize yourself with management techniques such as Scrum or Agile, as well as employee development techniques. Then, research management tools that can be useful, such as Asana, for task tracking, or Lucidchart for swim-lane development.
Seek out opportunities to manage a professional learning community, curriculum development team, or other leadership positions. Then, implement some of your researched management strategies.
Reflect on your own managerial strengths and limitations and strategize on how you might fill any gaps.
Collaboration, feedback, and “less than perfect” are hallmarks of this industry.
This difference is arguably the most important one because it involves your mental and emotional well-being. It took me a while to reposition in my mind the roles of collaboration, feedback, and a less than perfect work product. Let me explain.
I was working on a project recently that focused on building supportive resources for managers and leadership. Although the content itself was easy to digest, the project team synced weekly, and sometimes daily, in order to coordinate processes and collaborate over design challenges. Furthermore, the project was of high priority and required some 70 subject matter expert (SME) reviews. I’m not kidding, there were 2,000+ comments in the document by the end of the version 1 review cycle. Many comments were a paragraph long. The learning experience looked very different by the end, and it was much more impactful.
The reality is that you are not the content expert anymore. You will likely design a learning experience with content that you do not fully understand and then receive a TON of feedback on it. Don’t take it personally—it’s part of the iterative design process. Tapping into the support of subject matter experts (SMEs) or colleagues ultimately helps you hit the mark—or at least get close to it.
Here’s the interesting thing though: I’ve discovered that many educators tell learners that design is iterative, yet those educators feel like they have failed when they receive growth feedback. They create opportunities for learners to collaborate and express the importance of team groupthink, yet, when in a similar position with colleagues, argue for their own opinion. Educators suggest that learning is about the journey and that it doesn’t have to be perfect, and yet they stay up until 1:00 am perfecting their Google Slide presentations for the next day.
I’m super excited to announce that I’m a recovering perfectionist, and that it is a continuous process.
There are many theories I have as to why so many educators think this way, but that’s not the takeaway. The LXD world requires educators to redefine collaboration, feedback, and markers of success. In my experience, collaboration is a sharing of thoughts and a mixing of ideas to reach a solution to a problem. Feedback is a way to correct your course in order to hit the mark. Perfection is not a marker of success. Remember, you’re not the expert, and you have to be okay with that.
Bottom line: You will receive a lot of feedback on your work—it does not signify failure. Rely on your colleagues and SMEs to iterate on design and remove blockers.
Try this:
Reflect on your response to feedback. When you receive feedback from observations, colleagues, or parents, pay attention to your emotional responses and thoughts. Be inquisitive and ask for understanding if you are unclear. Ponder if this feedback brings you toward your goals. If it does, how might you implement it? If it doesn’t, what other takeaways can you pull from it?
Practice collaboration by setting up a collaboration session with some of your colleagues. Specify the goal of the meeting and set collaboration norms that everyone agrees to. Reflect on the experience with the team and discuss ways to improve.
Be okay with imperfection. Sorry, I wish I had a better strategy here! Some ways I managed it was by creating reminders for myself that I referred to often. I continuously reminded myself that my value as an LXD was not in how perfect my work was. Instead, it was in the many iterations I built. Design is messy—like, really messy. It can be frustrating, exciting, exhilarating, and challenging all at the same time. Embrace the ambiguity and, if it misses the mark, course correct with feedback!
In conclusion:
As educators, you have many skills that will translate to LXD. But how you use those skills is different in the classroom setting. I encourage you to decide if becoming an LXD is actually what you want. I’ve heard many educators say, “Oh, it’s like teaching, but I’ll make more and have a more flexible schedule.” Yes and no. What parts of teaching do you like? Do they track to being an LXD? What parts of teaching do you dislike? How do they track to being an LXD? When you’re ready to take the plunge, consider these last two thoughts.
Upskill yourself. Read a lot. Take courses. Practice what you learn in your school environment.
Take on volunteer roles. I know. You probably are working at least 1 other job and it kills you to read this. Volunteer roles provide opportunities for you to practice, develop your design skills, and bolster your resume with non-classroom teaching experience.
If you have more suggestions, we would love to hear them! This post captures just some of my realizations and strategies—there are SO many more. Let’s hear from you!
