Bonding time with my teenage sons over e-bikes sparked a passion I didn’t know existed. So in December, I did the next natural thing: I learned how to ride a motorcycle. I watched YouTube videos. I followed influencers. I took the MSF course. I even read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. With my newly endorsed license in hand, I bought my first bike. I was full of knowledge and short on application.
It wasn’t until I got on the bike, felt its weight, and fired it up that the real journey began. I started to practice, taking short rides around the neighborhood. I stalled at intersections. I dumped the bike an embarrassing amount of times. I realized that I didn’t know how to park on a hill or the proper technique for picking the bike up. So I watched more videos. And I rode. Little by little, it started to click.
I’m still a beginner, but I’ve learned this much: No amount of watching and reading substitutes for actual riding. The best professional learning works the same way—it’s built on practice and application, not just transmission.
Districts spend an average of $8,300 per teacher on PD each year, yet the returns are disappointing. “Teachers are eager to learn,” writes Joshua Barnett, CEO of the National Institute for Excellence in Teaching, “but not all professional learning feels relevant or practical enough to improve their daily instruction."
Even engaging professional learning can be ineffective when it’s a one-time event rather than ongoing practice—real transfer happens when teachers have time to iterate, reflect, and refine. This issue explores what that looks like: professional learning that puts teachers in the driver’s seat, giving them voice, choice, and ownership over their growth. Well-designed PD meets teachers where they are, respects what they know, and—as Jim Knight argues—keeps going long after the workshop or coaching conversation ends.
Like the narrator in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance says, “Sometimes it’s a little better to travel than to arrive.”
