As Elena and participants pulled back the curtain together, the participants were able to identify many of the design and facilitation moves. They could see that what had happened wasn't magic. They could see how they could replicate what Elena had done back in their schools and organizations.
What they'd noticed, and what Elena expanded on, were the following design and facilitation moves:
Elena made the why and the what for the institute explicit, over and over and over, in many places. Starting with the registration process, she went overboard in explaining the purpose for the learning experience and what would happen hour by hour. She emphasized the time for reflection and processing with others, and the immersive nature of the experience, and she provided a lengthy list of objectives and intended outcomes.
Elena made expectations for the retreat very clear in the description, in emails and video messages from her that participants received before it started, and, finally, on the first day in person. For example, in the description of the institute, she wrote, “Participants must commit to being present during the entire institute: Your presence is expected from the first to the last minute. If you are not able to make the entire retreat, please do not register.” She also stated (over and over) that cell phones could be used during breaks and before and after our sessions, but that otherwise they would need to be off and out of sight. She also explained that she was making this request for the sake of the community that would be built. These expectations helped to describe the how of the institute.
Elena built buy‐in to these outcomes and expectations on the first day. She engaged participants in activities around hopes and fears for the institute, community agreements, and how everyone could show up as their best selves. She guided folks toward making authentic connections to the objectives. She clarified that her role was to provide learning structures and facilitate processes, but that everyone shared collective responsibility for what happened.
Elena paid attention to every little detail. She had thought through timing and learning sequence and snacks. She'd considered materials and music, the comfort of the seats, and the pros and cons of air conditioning versus open windows. She'd planned activities to meet the needs of introverts and extroverts and to play to different learning intelligences, and she'd planned how to best explain each activity and how to transition between them. And there was so much more. Her facilitator's agenda was 28 pages long—an indication of the level of detail in her preparation.
Elena was flexible and responsive to requests. She made adjustments to the schedule based on feedback. When she observed that an activity needed more time, she had a set of criteria with which to make quick decisions.
Elena gave participants many choice points. For example, she said, “During this 90‐minute block, you can pick from four activities.” After explaining the options, she gave participants a chance to make thoughtful decisions and communicated confidence in the choice they made.
Elena modeled vulnerability, risk taking, and transparency. She shared her own emotions, including her enthusiasm for the community that she saw developing and the learning that was happening. She also modeled setting boundaries. For example, after one long afternoon, she said, “I'm feeling a little drained, which isn't a surprise given that I'm super introverted, so I'm going to take a walk alone and recharge. I'll see you all later!” This gave participants permission to take care of themselves, to share their emotions, and to take risks.
After Elena pulled back the curtain, participants recognized that they could have been in any configuration of a home group and they likely would have cultivated deep, authentic connections. The magic was not in the groupings, but in the design and facilitation of the learning experience and in the conditions that were created for the retreat.
Having peeked behind the curtain, participants also recognized that they could use the same tools and strategies that Elena had used to create transformative learning experiences for the folks they supported. Elena wanted them to be able to create for others what she'd given them—and in the feedback she's received in the years since this retreat happened, she knows that many of them have done so.
We can't wait to share our philosophy, habits, tips, and tricks for creating transformative professional development sessions like the one Elena facilitated. But we're going to take this step‐by‐step, and the next step is to ensure that we're aligned on some terminology, specifically on what we mean when we say professional development, a term that's used so broadly as to be almost meaningless. This book is called The PD Book, but what exactly is “professional development”?
Defining Professional Development
There have been far too many times when we have observed something that was called professional development, but we've thought, this is not PD. There's no learning going on in this room. The facilitator just wants participants to nod and accept his opinions and do what he says. When we have found ourselves in a faculty room or a conference hall watching educators grade papers in their laps during a professional development, we feel deflated. There's no learning going on in the room, and we can't blame the participants.
The term professional development (PD) can be used to mean a lot of different things from this kind of mindless training to sessions with the HR team about insurance options. Before you continue, take a moment to think about how you define professional development, how it's defined where you work, and, perhaps, what you wish PD meant.
The Definition
Let's start with naming the obvious elements of PD: It's a way that you continue developing your knowledge and abilities after you've met the baseline requirements for a position.
Many professions have expectations around ongoing development. You may need to renew a license or certificate in order to continue practicing in your field or you may need to develop additional skill sets to be promoted. In many organizations, there's also an assumption that the baseline may change: Although you're qualified when you're hired, you'll face new challenges and will need to continue developing skills. Whether you're in education or medicine or insurance law, we can count on the fact that changes in policy or demographics, advances in research and knowledge, or a shift in an organization's commitment will require continued learning. In schools, continued learning is required when a region experiences an influx of immigrants and teachers need to learn how to teach English learners, when new findings on the neuroscience of learning require that teachers acquire additional skills for teaching math, or when a school board adopts a resolution to create equitable schools.
We may also need to engage in professional development to refine a particular skill set. For example, the skills needed by positional leaders are extensive—whether they lead a school or a nonprofit. Even after leaders complete an administrative credential or get an MBA, they might need to further develop communication skills, emotional intelligence, or the ability to work across lines of difference. No one is ever done with their learning, and when learning happens in the context of a profession, it's called PD.
Refining the Definition
Can you recall a PD session you attended in which you felt, during the session or by the end of it, that you had changed? That you had new insights into yourself, your students, or your situation? That you had acquired new skills?
Can you recall another PD session that you attended where perhaps you felt ambivalent about in the moment but later the ideas from that session percolated into your mind? Maybe those ideas prompted you to try something different at work?
Elena recalls a slew of PD experiences as a teacher that resulted in her growth and development: a district‐wide August training for 300 third‐grade teachers on a new math curriculum during which she spent days exploring manipulatives and being a “student” as a master teacher