In October 2000, at the Iowa AEYC annual conference in Des Moines, I
did my first ever presentation. There were a handful of people in
the room; I was nervous--REALLY nervous. I was so nervous that I
vomited a little in my mouth. Public speaking scared me. In high
school, I took a lower grade in an English class because I
physically could not make myself get up and do a sixty-second
speech. Yet, there I was, queasy and red-faced giving a presentation
on…I don’t even remember what.
I do remember surviving the ordeal and having a few kind people say
nice things to me. I felt successful enough afterwards that I was
willing to risk more mouth vomit and come back the next year…and the
Iowa AEYC let me. I slowly got over my nerves and started
volunteering to do more presentations. I grew more comfortable,
developed some skills, and learned a lot from watching other
trainers—some great, some not.
Volunteering as a trainer led to paid speaking gigs. Now, I do about
30 keynotes a year.
I do not know if I will ever speak at the Iowa AEYC conference
again. In January 2010, they implemented a new policy for trainers
and I no longer meet their requirements. I don’t have a CDA and I
dropped out of college—a few times.
IA AEYC is not the only organization to implement such a policy,
there is a widespread push to create formal rubrics and procedures
intended to vet trainers and assure quality. I applaud the
intentions behind this effort—weeding out bad content and
unqualified speakers is a worthy cause. One reason I risked
potential public humiliation and projectile vomiting back in 2000
was that for over a decade I had been the victim of trainings and
trainers who did not deliver quality. I figured that at the very
least I could be as good as the worst trainers I had heard.
I also know that some of the most thoughtful, knowledgeable,
experienced, and wise caregivers I have ever met have never taken a
college class. Some of them are also great trainers and personal
mentors. Arbitrary policies disqualifying them as speakers hurts our
profession.
In the last 24 years or so, I have spent 16 years directing
center-based school-age and child care programs, operated a family
child care program for about 8 years, written 8 books, served on the
boards of the National Association for Family Child Care and the
Iowa AEYC, and provided hundreds of hours of training to thousands
of early learning professionals. I have also worked hard to stay on
top of early learning research, theory, and best practices
as-well-as hone my skills as both a caregiver and trainer.
Yet, when the IA AEYC implemented their new policy, I become a less
qualified trainer than a person with a CDA, three years of early
learning experience, and some adult education training.
Formal education is a
path to knowing, but it is not
the path. It is also not
a guarantee of knowledge or skill. There are medical school
graduates you would not trust to remove your swollen appendix, law
school graduates that you would not trust to write your will, and
early learning graduates that you would not trust to care for your
baby. A degree in early learning does not necessarily mean you are
an effective speaker. It does not mean you can hold the attention of
a room full of adults, it does not mean you can create engaging
visuals, it does not mean you can tell a story, and it does not mean
you can effectively project your voice or ideas. I am a proud
college dropout and am proud of the path I have taken.
I also truly believe we need to figure out some thoughtful ways to
improve the quality of trainings and trainers. Here are some
thoughts based on my experience and conversations with caregivers:
·
Due diligence should not mean having a form completed, it should
mean investing time and energy in really investigating and vetting
trainers. What’s written on a request for proposal may have no
real-world connection to the actual presentation. People can put
anything down on forms…and they will.
·
Close the loop holes. I’ve had event organizers tell me they could
“make an exception” for me as a speaker based on my books or
experience. This is not fair and it tilts the playing field. If
you’re going to have a trainer approval policy, live by the letter
of your policy or change it.
·
Check references. If you want to know if a potential trainer has
good information and speaking skills, ask for reference and then
check them. If you do not hear good things, don’t use them.
·
Require that potential speakers submit sample video or audio from
past events. This will tell you much more than a 15-page packet of
paperwork. This should be simple in our age of digital voice
recorders and YouTube.
·
Ask potential trainers to submit samples of their visuals. Don’t
force attendees to suffer Death by PowerPoint.
·
Ask potential speakers to tell you a story. Most caregivers I speak
with prefer trainers who tie their information to real-world
face-to-face experience with actual human children. They want to
hear trainers who have “been there”. They want to connect through
relatable stories and experiences.
·
We need better evaluation tools for trainers and we need attendees
to be more honest and thoughtful in their responses. This would help
identify unskilled or unqualified speakers—and give them valuable
feedback for future improvements.
·
Our profession needs more good trainers and arbitrarily
disqualifying people because they lack a degree limits the pool of
potential and reduces the diversity of thought and opinion.
·
Organizations should find ways to nurture eager new trainers and
help them build skills and talent. I owe a great debt to IA AEYC
(and long time conference guru Rhonda Bancroft). They offered a safe
venue for facing my fears a decade ago.
As a profession, we are literally caregivers. I hope we can take
steps to care of the brave folks who willingly stand up and share
their stories, ideas, thoughts, experiences, and opinions. We need
them, degree or not.