Next week, I’ll step into classrooms to begin the coaching process with some amazing language teachers. I always prepare intentionally for these first visits, not just with my notes or frameworks, but with how I will communicate my role. I know how vulnerable it feels to invite someone into your classroom. Teachers are opening the door to their daily practice, to lessons that are still in motion, to students who may or may not be fully engaged that day. They’re letting me see the unpolished version of teaching, and that can feel risky.
That’s why my first responsibility is to reassure them: coaching is not about judgment or evaluation. It’s about growth. It’s about reflection. It’s about partnership. I let them know that I’ll be listening to their goals, paying attention to their context, and helping them identify the next small, meaningful step forward. That message of purpose often matters as much as anything else we do together.
One of the reasons I believe coaching is so important is because teaching for proficiency is beautifully complex. It’s not a single skill, but rather the weaving together of many threads. It begins with mindset—believing that the goal of language learning is communication, not coverage. That shift alone requires teachers to let go of old habits and embrace a new vision of what success looks like.
The mindset of proficiency is different from the traditional mindset many of us grew up with. Instead of seeing language as a list of rules and vocabulary to memorize, proficiency sees language as a living, breathing thing - a force that binds us together, a doorway to understanding others, and something meant to be used in the real world. It’s not just a subject to be learned, it's something to be lived.
But mindset isn’t enough. Teachers also need curriculum materials that are truly aligned with proficiency outcomes, not just lists of vocabulary and grammar points. And then there’s the art of daily instruction: using comprehensible input, choosing authentic resources, helping students notice and use grammar in context, building routines that invite interaction. On top of that, assessment must move beyond tests of recall toward performance tasks and feedback that actually guide growth.
When you put all of this together, it becomes clear: no one masters every piece all at once. That’s why coaching matters. It’s not about trying to do everything perfectly—it’s about figuring out where to focus right now, and then building from there.
In this process, my role as a coach is to support without overwhelming. To slow things down, so that instead of feeling pressured to tackle everything, teachers can focus on one shift that will make the biggest difference for them and their students. My job is also to build relationships—to create a sense of safety and trust so that reflection feels empowering rather than threatening. And maybe most importantly, I am there to uncover the strengths teachers already bring, and help them build on those strengths with intention.
When that happens, coaching shifts from being about judgment to being about growth. The vulnerability of opening the door becomes the spark that allows transformation to begin.
This summer I shared a session on coaching that explores these ideas in more depth: Coaching Conversations That Spark Change
If you haven’t had a chance to watch it yet, I encourage you to carve out an hour. It’s packed with strategies you can use right away.
To make the coaching process more concrete, I’ve created two simple guides you can use right away:
Both are included in this newsletter as resources for you. My hope is that whether you are a teacher, coach, or leader, you’ll find something here that helps you make coaching a process of encouragement and transformation.
Whether you’re a teacher, coach, or leader:
What’s one area of your practice you’d feel most comfortable inviting a coach into right now?
I’d love to hear your thoughts—just hit reply and share.
Together, we can make coaching not a source of apprehension, but a catalyst for growth.