The surprising pace of real learning that sticks (and why it means going slower, and then some)

When I started teaching our summer Mandarin Chinese hobby course for teachers this year, I didn’t expect it to wake up something in me I didn’t realise had gone quiet.

After more than five years of mostly facilitating professional development and leading adult training sessions, stepping back into a teaching role - where I am responsible not just for passing on knowledge but for building skill with tangible learning outcomes over a sustained period - feels both thrilling and humbling.

As the weeks have gone by, I’ve realised I had become rusty at classroom teaching. I’ve had to remember how to lead, how to build pace, how to shape understanding in real time. And while I’ve really enjoyed teaching this course so far, I’ve also walked away with three big takeaways - lessons that would’ve been easy to forget if I wasn’t back in the teaching seat myself.

1. Teaching is not like riding a bike. You do forget.

It’s never been clearer to me: AI can give you all the knowledge in the world. But when it comes to building skill, there is no replacement for a teacher and the grit involved in following a structured and thoughtfully designed curriculum.

Teaching a language, especially Mandarin, is not about dumping vocabulary into people’s brains. It’s about helping them do something - read characters, look things up, recognise structure, pronounce tones. And this only happens through active teaching and learning.

It’s also reminded me why teachers grumble at PD sessions led by people who haven’t been in a classroom for 20 years. It’s not snobbery - it’s serious! Teachers know that you do forget what it’s like to teach if you don’t keep doing it. I forgot, mostly little details, how to pace, and how to keep a group of varying abilities together. And now I remember. So a key takeaway here is that teaching is NOT like riding a bike - you DO forget! Ha!

2. Go slower than you think - then go slower again

In these first three sessions, I introduce my students to what I call the “seven foundations.” By this halfway point, they’re already able to face unfamiliar Chinese characters without panic. They know how to use a dictionary, type on their phones, and begin learning independently. But even though they’ve learned so much - I still had to slow it way down to get there.

I’ve always thought I was good at pacing. But this course has reminded me that for real mastery, especially with beginners, you need to make the learning small and slow enough to feel like a win - but not so small or slow that it’s boring. It’s a fine balance.

And even with my careful planning and curriculum design, I’ve noticed I still need to notch things down. And that’s okay. - it’s building the foundation strong. Which leads me to my next idea:

3. Learning is best when paced like a race: go easy at the start

There’s this analogy I keep thinking of. I once ran a race where, for the first time, I forced myself to hold back at the start. I let others overtake me, even ones I usually keep up with. I jogged at a super-easy pace, feeling like I was sabotaging myself. But by the end? I had energy. I could speed up. And I actually had one of the best runs I’ve ever done.

That’s what I’m learning again in teaching: if you slow it way down at the beginning, you can go so much faster later. But the patience required at the start is brutal. You want to dive in. But when you’re teaching something complex, the first few steps must be small and steady.

Conclusion:

Teaching that sticks takes presence, patience, and pace

As I reflect halfway through this course, I’m walking away with these three reminders:

• Teaching skill requires active presence - you can’t outsource it to a slide deck or AI.

• Beginners especially need you to go slow - then slower still.

• Like running a race, a slow start sets you up for a strong finish.

But beyond all this - beyond the structure and skills, there’s something else that’s come through too - something softer, but just as real.

There hasn’t been a student I’ve taught Mandarin to where I wouldn’t feel happy to call them up today and catch up.

Some of my best friendships have come from teaching this subject. There’s something magical about forming bonds through learning something so niche and hard. You get to know people. You say hi to their cats on video calls. You chat about family. And suddenly, you’re not just teaching anymore - you’re building something that lasts.

We talk a lot about “community” in education, and sometimes the word feels tired. But this is what it looks like in real life. This is it. Teachers will know. :)

So I’m curious - what’s something you’ve taught (or learned) that reminded you what community really means?