After the Weekend: What Practicum Instructor Training Really Trains

There’s a particular kind of tired that shows up after a weekend of deep learning—not the drained, depleted kind, but the good kind. The kind that says: something shifted.

This weekend I immersed myself in Practicum Instructor Training, and I’m sitting here noticing how different it feels from many other trainings I’ve attended. Yes, there were skills. Yes, there were frameworks. But underneath all of that, the weekend seemed to ask a more confronting question:

Can you teach Choice Theory without living it in the moment you’re teaching?

That question stayed with me, because Practicum Instructor Training isn’t just about knowing the material. It’s about becoming the kind of person who can hold a learning space where people feel safe enough to change.

And when you work in Choice Theory, you know that change isn’t something we can force.

It’s something we choose.

A quick note: what “Practicum Instructor Training” is (in real-life language)

Practicum Instructor Training is where the focus shifts from using Choice Theory to guiding others in learning and applying it.

It’s not only “Can you explain the needs?” or “Can you describe the Quality World?”It’s also:

• Can you facilitate learning rather than perform expertise?

• Can you respond instead of react when someone is stuck, resistant, or overwhelmed?

• Can you give feedback that supports growth without controlling?

• Can you model the very principles you’re teaching—especially under pressure?

It’s training for the relational side of instruction, not just the content side. And that’s exactly what made the weekend feel so meaningful.

My position after the weekend

If I had to sum up my biggest takeaway as a single position, it would be this:

Practicum instructors don’t “deliver” Choice Theory—they create the conditions where people can choose it.

That’s a very different job than convincing, correcting, or proving. It’s less about “having the right answer” and more about holding the right environment:

• Clear boundaries without punishment

• Warmth without rescuing

• High expectations without shame

• Curiosity without interrogation

In other words: a space where learners can meet themselves honestly… and still feel connected.

What I noticed about learning when Choice Theory is the method and the message

In most learning environments, we can accidentally lean on external control: “Do this because it’s required,” “You must participate this way,” “That’s wrong—here’s the correct answer.”

But in a Choice Theory-based training space, the method matters as much as the content.

Because learners aren’t only taking in information. They’re absorbing:

• how conflict is handled,

• how mistakes are responded to,

• how questions are received,

• how power is used (or not used),

• whether belonging is real or performative.

This weekend reminded me that people learn best when their basic needs are respected, not managed.

• Belonging: “I’m welcome here, even when I’m unsure.”

• Power: “My voice matters; I have agency.”

• Freedom: “I can think for myself; I’m not being controlled.”

• Fun: “Learning can be human; I can breathe.”

• Survival: “I’m safe. I won’t be embarrassed or attacked.”

When those needs are met, learners don’t have to defend themselves. They can actually learn.

The unseen skills I think practicum instructors are really being trained in

Here are the skills I’m still thinking about today—because they’re subtle, and they’re everything.

1) Staying connected when someone disagrees

Not everybody will love the model. Not everybody will be ready. Practicum instruction asks: Can I stay relational even when I feel the urge to persuade?

2) Listening for the need beneath the behaviour

When someone challenges, withdraws, jokes, or becomes “overly intellectual,” it’s easy to label it as resistance. This weekend reinforced a better question:

What need is trying to be met here—and how do we keep dignity intact?

3) Using structure without becoming controlling

Good training needs structure. But Choice Theory reminds us: structure isn’t the same as control.

The art is holding a container that supports learning—without trying to manage people’s choices inside it.

4) Giving feedback that doesn’t trigger defence

Feedback can either open a person… or close them.

This training emphasised feedback that is:

• specific,

• invitational,

• grounded in observation,

• aligned with purpose,

• respectful of autonomy.

5) Modelling congruence over perfection

There’s a quiet pressure in “instructor” roles to appear polished.

But Choice Theory invites something braver: congruence.Being real. Taking responsibility. Repairing quickly. Owning impact.

People don’t need perfect instructors.They need trustworthy ones.

What I’m taking forward into my work

Coming out of the weekend, I feel clearer about a few commitments I want to keep making—especially when I’m teaching, facilitating, supervising, or supporting practitioners.

I want to keep prioritising relationship over performance.

Even when I’m tempted to “prove I know,” I want to choose connection.

I want to keep choosing curiosity first.

Curiosity creates space. Certainty can shut it down.

I want to keep practicing influence without coercion.

Choice Theory is not passive. It’s deeply intentional. But it’s never controlling.

I want to keep building learning spaces that are emotionally safe and intellectually stretching.

Both matter. Safety without stretch becomes comfort. Stretch without safety becomes threat.

If you’re considering Practicum Instructor Training, here’s what helps

If you’re reading this because you’re thinking about taking this step, here are a few things that (in my experience) make the process more meaningful:

• Arrive willing to be taught, not to “prove you’re ready.”

• Practice noticing your own control habits (we all have them).

• Expect to be shaped by the process, not just informed by it.

• Stay close to the question: “How do I want people to feel when they learn with me?”

• Remember that your presence teaches as loudly as your words.