My Year in Training and Assessment (Part 1/2)

2018 has been a really busy year for me. Not only did I have to grind at a job where I was (and still am!) struggling, I had a woman I was seeing (and whose finger I put a ring on in that same friggin' year!), and I was in school.

What was I studying, this time? Nothing directly tech-related. I was taking my Advanced Certification in Training and Assessment (ACTA), certification necessary to become an instructor in any academic setting. Did I harbor aspirations in that direction? Not exactly. But it certainly was riveting subject matter.

How it all began

Back in 2017, the startup I was working for, had folded. I was out of a job again, and soon found myself interviewing at a training institute, for the position of programming instructor. I've had prior experience teaching, and part of why I was putting up web tutorials on this blog is because I firmly believe that part of what helps a developer grow, is the culture of sharing, and the act of imparting knowledge. So the position was interesting enough for me to give it a shot.

Surprise - my interviewer turned out to be my very first programming lecturer from Temasek Polytechnic! His hair was all white now, but I remember the guy. In fact, every time I pick up a new programming language, I can kind of hear his voice droning on about If blocks, For loops and arrays.

Over a pleasant chat, it was revealed that I needed an ACTA to even be legally allowed to teach. I would have taken it right away, but he informed me that upon turning forty, which would be almost half a year away, I would be eligible for a ninety percent discount on the school fees. Now, to someone who's out of a job, a few thousand dollars is nothing to sniff at. I soon gained employment somewhere else, but resolved to revisit the subject of obtaining this certification in the near future.

With that in mind, once things stabilized at my job, I signed up for the next available ACTA course. I would be in classes twice a week, from 7 to 10 PM. It would be a bit of a squeeze, but I'd make it work.

The first day

The class turned out to be filled with professionals from various trades. There were even a couple of actual trainers in there. Our instructor for this module was an elderly gent with a reassuring demeanor. To get all of us to know each other better, he had us play a game.

Breaking the ice.

We formed a circle. The first one would state his or her name, preceded by a descriptive term whose first letter should match the first letter of their name. (ie, Responsible Robert, Jolly Jacintha, etc), their occupation, how they best learned and what knowledge they hoped to gain from this course. And then the next in line would repeat the previous trainee's name, along with his own, and repeat the sequence. Which meant that I, being the the thirteenth, would have to repeat twelve names. Luckily, the instructor had written down the names as we went along, so if we were in any doubt, we could refer to the whiteboard.

And then it was my turn.

To my astonishment, I could repeat the names and descriptions of all twelve of the preceding trainees without referring to the whiteboard. Not even once.

"... and I'm Terrible Tan. I'm a software developer..." Here, I paused, wondering how to answer the next question. Then it came to me. "...I learn best through repetition. And I hope that by learning how to teach others, I can become a less terrible software developer."

Why "Terrible"?

Some asked me why I chose "Terrible" when the others were using terms like "Jovial", "Noble" and "Nice". I wasn't simply being cheeky, nor was I having a serious inferiority complex. You see, I am a software developer. And by definition, we software devs are all terrible. There is so much tech knowledge out there, and all of us, even the most knowledgeable ones, know but a fraction of it all. The key to improvement is to first acknowledge how much we all suck, and how much we each have to learn.

Someone who does not think he has anything to learn, is simply predisposed to not learn anything. That's just the way it is. A software developer cannot afford to think he is anything but terrible. That leads to false confidence, and eventually stagnation.

Why "Repetition"?

Each of my coursemates had had their names repeated over and over by the time it was my turn. The first one's name had been repeated thirteen times, the second one's name twelve times, and so on.

I'm not the brightest bulb in the box; I've known that since forever. I can't be told something once and immediately understand. But when I learn something, I get good at it by repeating it endlessly till it becomes second nature.

Why "better software developer"?

At first, in my new job, I was too busy struggling to even consider evening classes. However, an encounter with a colleague changed that.

Now, I have nothing against this guy personally. For all I know, he could be a totally awesome dude outside of the office. But he was exactly the kind of person I dread working with - loud, combative and dramatic. Add that to a ton of insecurities that seemed to compel him to constantly toot his own horn about his "workaholism" and drive... and you'll see why having to work alongside him made my job a lot less pleasant than it should have been. Also, his code sucked monkey balls... but that's neither here nor there. We'll speak more of this guy another time. What's relevant here is that a few months in the job, he got an offer from another company and decided to tender his resignation. And that, of course, involved handing over stuff.

Aww, poor baby.

Halfway through one of the knowledge transfer sessions, he asked us if we had any questions. When he was answered with an awkward silence, he threw a tantrum and started lecturing us about how he used to have many questions when he was in our shoes, how we just expected to be spoonfed...

Jesus, talk like that wasn't going to induce me to ask questions, that was for sure.

We were there as a professional obligation, and doing our best to absorb. We weren't here to listen to him yammer on about how enthusiastic and driven he was compared to the rest of us. I certainly didn't feel like asking any goddamn questions. All I felt inclined to do was wait for him to shut the hell up so I could get on with my work. Pro tip: Handing over work is a basic professional courtesy when you're leaving the company. So, if you're ever in the position to hand work over, stop acting like you're doing everyone such a huge fucking favor, OK?

And that, in a nutshell, was what convinced me that being a professional tech - in fact, any professional - required skills in knowledge transfer. Communication. You can be a really gifted tech, but if you can't transfer knowledge, your usefulness is pretty limited, isn't it?

In retrospect

The instructor, later on during the course, informed us of something I had been half-suspecting - that this icebreaker game had actually served a higher purpose other than getting to know one another.

Firstly, it was meant to show the lecturer who was more or less predisposed to learning. Those who had cited interest in teaching, or interest in the certification for career advancement, were sufficiently motivated. Those who were here simply because they needed to spend some SkillsFuture credits, less so.

Secondly, it was meant for each participant to self-examine how he or she best learned something. Different people learn differently, and being able to accept that is one of the basic requirements of a trainer.

Self-reflection.

The third purpose, I suspect, was psychological - for each participant to present their own self-concept to the class. Whether or not they were "Clever Chandran" or "Slow Serena", each participant's self-concept was something that could affect the speed at which they absorbed and digested new information.

Next

We'll go into more detail about what went on during those classes. Be back soon!