I’m Tired of Performances, I’d Rather Have Partnerships
About a week before I’m asked to speak, I hope my audiences start thinking. Not about me — about their own experiences, insights, and questions. Many speaking advice books and methods I’ve tried would believe this is a lousy way to build a keynote. That’s because, for the typical speaker, the audience hopes to be entertained or inspired for an hour.
But then, to paraphrase Madonna, what happens when you’re not in the audience and back in your own space? How much of that hour sticks with you in a way that helps you do your work better?
Instead of planning for an hour of edutainment, I spend time researching the places where I’ll be speaking. From the research, I build a unique learning plan composed of prompts that invite audiences into our work together. By the time we’re in the same room, physically or virtually, folks aren’t just passive recipients of information — they’re co-creators of meaning.
I recently worked with the NEA Foundation’s Global Learning Fellows and watched this approach unfold in real time. As the Fellows shared their pre-work reflections through an interactive presentation platform, patterns emerged that would have stayed hidden if I were just in “hype woman” mode or giving a traditional speech. With this interaction, their insights became our collective building blocks, transforming what could have been a one-way presentation into a dialogue about practice.
Nothing I plan will ever be as entertaining as TikTok or as immediately gratifying as a motivational speaker getting everyone on their feet. My colleague Carol Jago puts it perfectly when discussing trying to make every classroom lesson fun. She says, “Whatever you think will make learning ‘fun’ will never be as fun as going to lunch. Lunch is always going to win.”
The same holds true for professional learning. We can chase the emotional high of an inspirational speech, but what happens when everyone returns to their actual challenges? To the complex problems that require sustained attention?
This is why my keynotes begin with listening. Whether working with educators, assessment or technical assistance specialists, non-profit leaders, or finance professionals, I want to understand their landscape. What are the team’s strengths? Where do they feel stuck? What keeps them moving forward despite obstacles?
Yes, there will be stories. Yes, there will be moments of connection and even laughter. But these emerge organically from our shared work rather than being staged for effect.
Through collaborative tools, participants become active co-creators rather than passive audience members. Their insights and experiences shape our time together. The pre-work ensures they arrive already thinking as partners and not as spectators. The follow-up resources I send afterward help them translate insights into action.Because here’s what I’ve learned from both sides of professional development: The most valuable gift we can offer isn’t inspiration in isolation — it’s creating spaces where people feel genuinely seen and heard, where their actual work can be engaged with in ways that matter when they return to their desks, their teams, their missions.
When, for instance, I partner with an assessment company, we explore how data becomes story becomes action. With non-profit leaders, we examine how maintaining mission focus helps them to adapt to their client’s changing needs. In educational settings, we dive into the space between policy and practice, between research, theory, and the daily reality of learning.
A shared need to move beyond surface solutions to sustainable change links these seemingly different contexts. Real transformation doesn’t happen in an hour of high energy, followed by a return to business as usual. It happens in the quiet moments of reflection before we meet, in the collaborative thinking during our time together, and most importantly, in the intentional application afterward.
Keynotes are points in a longer learning arc rather than one-off events. The pre-work creates a foundation of shared understanding. The keynote itself becomes a space for deepening that understanding through collective wisdom. The follow-up resources provide scaffolding for putting insights into practice.
It’s a slower approach, yes. It's more demanding than a typical keynote. But I’ve found that organizations are hungry for sustained engagement. They’re tired of quick fixes and temporary inspiration. They want what one client called “the quiet, strong, steady drumbeat of hope” — built on truth, reflection, and resilience.
Ultimately, the measure of a keynote’s success isn’t the energy in the room during the presentation. It’s what happens afterward. It’s in the small shifts in practice, the renewed sense of purpose, and the strengthened connections between colleagues. It’s in the ripple effects that continue long after the applause has faded.
This is the art of the partnership— less flash, more lasting impact. Less performance, more transformation. Less talking at, more thinking with.
Because real change, like real learning, takes time. And I’m here for all of it.
