The Unwanted Gift of Educational Professional Development
Why school districts keep feeding teachers broccoli nobody asked for, and how to fix it.
Have you ever been given a gift you didn't want, something you'd never use, and felt guilty for not appreciating it?
That's exactly what professional development (PD) feels like for many teachers. You’re expected to smile and be grateful, but deep down, you’d rather just politely decline.
Now, I don’t claim to be an expert in education, nor in any particular subject for that matter. I’ve always believed in learning new things, and I embrace growth. But what I can’t wrap my head around is why no one asks teachers what we actually need to learn before locking us in a room for three hours to teach us the latest educational buzzwords. If we’re supposed to be learning, why does it feel so irrelevant?
When "Expertise" Drives Teachers Out the Door
Take “whole reading,” for instance. In my district, this was the thing for years. We were told not to bother with phonics—kids would magically learn spelling through reading alone. This was parroted for so long that many brilliant, experienced teachers were driven into early retirement or straight out the door by administrators who adopted a “my way or the highway” mentality. If you dared to question the approach, you were shut down. After all, who were we to question the experts?
But the systemic issues go deeper than bad pedagogy. The environment itself is often fractured.
Picture this: An administrator embarrasses you about your classroom management skills, criticizes you in private, and then expects you to be highly engaged in a PD on inclusion. I remember one of the books we were trained on was titled There’s Room for Me Here.
Ironically, there wasn’t much room for dissent or new ideas in that training.
The Reality Check: I’ve never met a teacher who didn’t believe their students could succeed. Teachers pour their lives into their classrooms—dedicating weekends, nights, and their own mental health—to make sure every kid has a chance.
But there are two fatal flaws that doom most PD sessions from the start:
The Non-Supportive Administrator: We all know the type. They have a mental list of who the "good" and "bad" teachers are, and that bias colors everything. In a session, they’ll gush over one teacher’s idea (“Oh, Helen, that’s a fantastic suggestion! We should implement that right away!”). Meanwhile, a teacher they’ve already labeled as “bad” could suggest the exact same thing and get nothing more than a curt, “Thank you for sharing.” The dismissal is palpable, and the divide grows deeper.
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Irrelevant Topics: Too often, these sessions are designed by district specialists or principals who haven’t set foot in a classroom in years. A math teacher sits through hours of training on assessing primary reading levels. A first-year teacher, drowning in basic classroom management, is taught about a new administrative form they’ve never seen before. If it doesn’t apply to what teachers are doing tomorrow morning, it’s a waste of time.
The Three Types of Teachers in Every Meeting
If you look around the room during any given PD session, you will inevitably see the same three archetypes:
The Hopeful Novice: Highly attentive and eager to learn. This is typically a new teacher, desperate to soak up any nugget of wisdom to survive their first year. They’re engaged, taking notes, and asking questions—bless their hopeful hearts.
The Over-Clarifier: The teacher who loves to hear themselves talk. They chime in on every question, offering long-winded answers in the hope that the principal notices. Ironically, these individuals often know the least but think talking makes them look like experts. I vividly remember one who asked if we could extend a meeting—extend it!—to cover more material. The collective glares of the exhausted teachers around the room could have burned a hole through the wall.
The Timers: Their eyes flick to the clock every five minutes, counting down until the torture is over. These veterans have mastered the survival skill of absolute silence. They don’t ask questions, and they don’t answer them. Why? Because they know the danger of a drawn-out discussion that could add another hour to the session.
How to Make PD Bearable (It’s Simple, Really)
If districts genuinely want to support professional growth, the blueprint isn't complicated:
Ask teachers what they actually need. Stop feeding us broccoli when no one asked for it. Furthermore, if something can be explained in a quick email, please—save us all the time and just send the email.
Fix the culture before fixing the teaching. If an administrator has recently criticized a teacher, don’t expect that teacher to walk into a PD ready to be vulnerable or open-minded. I remember a colleague who got written up because they didn’t realize one of their students needed glasses. Can you imagine that? You think that teacher is going to be chipper in the next meeting? No. They’re going to sit in the back with a crocodile smile, biding their time.
Make it relevant and keep it real. Don’t fly in an "expert" who hasn’t taught a room full of kids in a decade without having them work with the staff firsthand. Make sure the material applies to the actual students in the building.
Inject some humanity. Teachers are perpetually tired—end-of-the-rope kind of tired. We plan, we grade, we problem-solve, and then we’re expected to sit through hours of lectures. Make us laugh, or at least keep us awake.
Well, that’s all I’ve got on PD for now. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got 60 papers to grade before tomorrow morning.
Can someone please order me a triple-shot caramel chocolate frappuccino?
