Learning at Home, Learning at Work: How Parenthood Shaped Me as an Educator
As a parent in the education field, I thought I knew learning, but trying to teach my baby to eat with a spoon taught me that I didn't know as much about teaching and learning as I thought. Parenting brought a new awareness of what it feels like to learn: the frustration, the joy, the non-linear messiness. I like to think of it as "seeing with smaller eyes". It is so easy in education to think more about how knowledge is provided to learners rather than thinking about how knowledge is acquired by learners.
One of the first lessons parenting taught me about education is that learning doesn’t follow a straight line. My son watched my spoon demonstration intently, then dropped the spoon and used his hands instead. If he’d had the words, I’m sure he would have pointed out that the dog didn’t use a spoon to eat, and his food got into his belly just fine. I realized something fundamental: motivation can’t be imposed. My son wasn’t being difficult; he just didn’t see the why. That made me reflect on how often we, as educators, focus on content delivery without anchoring it to learner motivation or relevance. Learning isn’t about checking boxes or following steps; it’s about discovery, meaning, and readiness, and sometimes, learners take the long way around.
Somewhere along the way, our society got the idea that learning had to be serious to be rigorous. But nothing has challenged that assumption more than parenting. Children have a built-in radar for boredom. If something feels dull, irrelevant, or exhausting, they tune out, and no amount of adult logic will bring them back. A well-timed joke, a narrative hook, or a playful challenge can make the difference between content that’s skimmed and content that sticks. When we’re designing for learners who are juggling fatigue, stress, or self-doubt, “edutainment” isn’t fluff—it’s a lifeline.
One of the hardest things to accept—both as a parent and an educator—is just how slow real learning can be. It’s not dramatic or efficient. It’s repeating the same steps day after day, sometimes wondering if anything is sinking in. I’ve watched my child fumble through what felt like endless attempts to zip a coat, ride a bike, or read a single sentence. But then, one day, something clicks. And it sticks. That’s the magic of slow learning—it becomes part of who we are, not just something we did.
As an instructional designer, I’ve come to see value in resisting the pressure to rush through content. I build in repetition, reflection, and low-stakes practice because that’s how real understanding takes root. It might not be flashy, but slow learning is lasting learning.
Parenting didn’t just teach me about my child’s learning journey; it deepened my understanding of all learners.
Want to Learn More?
Connect with your institute's D2L Customer Success Manager or Client Sales Executive, or reach out to the D2L Sales Team for more information about how Learning Services can support you on your learning journey.