Alright, Adam on the internet take 476.
Every few years, I get the itch to say something.
I get the itch to plant my flag and yell into the online abyss of hateful rhetoric, echo chambers, and squeaky wheels looking for their grease. I start with such great intentions.
“Hey, I want to be heard, too.”
What a novel concept that led us into the state we currently sit in.
However, I don’t want this to be that kind of attempt. To be fair, I don’t think any of my other attempts were, either. They were mostly driven by an underlying need for me talk about my passions.
Because passion peaks when you can share it with someone else.
Tomorrow, I’m switching positions at my current job.
Tomorrow, I will no longer be a Senior eLearning Developer.
I will once again be a Senior Instructional Designer, with the addition of “Simulation Specialist” tacked onto the end.
Which is quite funny.
Less than a year ago, I had a long conversation with my now-former boss about why I disagreed with her and our department director on why I should change my title and become “just another instructional designer.”
I remember pleading my argument of eLearning Developer being a more niche profession, needing an entirely different set of skills, and I was now being thrown into a much more populated pool of instructional design.
“All eLearning Developers do instructional design, but not all instructional designers do eLearning development.”
I still agree with that statement.
So, imagine my face ten months later when I tell her that I’m deciding to leave my current position, move to another department, and willingly accept the title of “Senior Instructional Designer and Simulation Specialist.”
Life is funny. The irony was thick. I knew it.
And the timing makes this even more interesting.
There’s been a lot of talk this past week in the instructional design community about the need for instructional designers after the annoucement at Articulate’s Articuland conference in Orlando.
Articulate unveiled the “yassification” (my term) of course creation where anyone can upload a few documents and get a course that has all the signs of “quality” to the naked eye.
And, as with anything that involves a tool making creation “easier,” people had opinions.
Graphic designers have been through it.,
Photographers have been through it.
Accountants, writers, developers, musicians, mechanics, and every other profession has been going through it at some point. Now, it’s instructional design’s turn.
And I won’t lie.
I dabbled in that discourse on the r/instructionaldesign subreddit.
You see, I’m ok with saying out loud that my relationship with generative AI is complicated.
I have a hard time with how we, as a society, are choosing to use it. Set aside all of the political, environmental, and economic reasons for a moment and I still worry about what it does to how we think and create.
I worry about a future where we increasingly accept mediocrity and sameness over creativity, curiosity, and individuality.
“Good enough” wins because it can be generated in a matter of seconds. Ding. The microwave is done.
Yet, I use AI constantly.
Mostly, I use it as a tutorial tool.
It helps me figure things out.
It guides me on how to fix things, such as debugging this WordPress site that I haven’t dealt with in nearly 5 years.
I see the appeal.
I see why people love it.
And I understand why people hate it.
Which brings me back to instructional design.
Ten months ago, I hated the idea of being called a Senior Instructional Designer.
Tomorrow, I’m voluntarily becoming one again at almost the exact moment where the profession is asking itself what one is and are they even needed in this new AI world.
Am I making some profound argument about the future of instructional design? My future as an instructional designer?
Not yet.
This is the first post on a new site.
Let’s see if I make it to a second one.
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