There is a particular kind of confidence that I think only comes from doing the work long enough to stop wondering whether everyone is eventually going to figure out that you have no idea what you’re doing.
For me, apparently, that took about four years.
When I started teaching, I had plenty of ideas. I had enthusiasm. I had lesson plans. I had opinions about education.
What I didn’t have was enough experience to know which of those opinions I actually trusted.
There’s a strange thing that happens early in a teaching career. You can know that you’re qualified. You can have successful lessons. Students can learn. Colleagues can tell you that you’re doing a good job. You can even have some pretty incredible professional successes.
And still, somewhere in the back of your mind, there’s a little voice asking:
But do I actually know what I’m talking about yet?
For a long time, that question kept me from wanting to write publicly about teaching.
I could create resources. I could coach students. I could talk for hours with other teachers about classroom ideas. But writing a blog felt different.
A blog felt like saying, I have something worth sharing.
And for the first few years, I wasn’t entirely sure I believed that.
Year Four Feels Different
This year, something shifted.
It isn’t that every lesson is perfect. It definitely isn’t that every student magically does exactly what I hoped they would do. And I certainly haven’t unlocked some secret formula for teaching.
I just feel…comfortable.
I know my classroom better.
I know myself better.
I know when a lesson isn’t working and needs to change. I know when students need more structure and when they need me to get out of the way. I know which battles are worth fighting and which ones really, really aren’t.
I’m better at noticing when something is going wrong without immediately assuming that means I’m doing everything wrong.
Maybe most importantly, I’ve learned that good teaching isn’t about finding one perfect system and using it forever.
It’s about paying attention, trying something, watching what happens, changing it, and trying again.
And occasionally admitting that the brilliant idea you were very excited about was, in fact, terrible.
That last one is important.
I Have Opinions Now
Four years into teaching and coaching Speech and Debate, I’ve accumulated a lot of thoughts.
About helping terrified teenagers give their first speech.
About what novice debaters actually need before their first tournament.
About classroom routines that sounded wonderful on paper and absolutely collapsed in practice.
About confidence, competition, and communication.
About artificial intelligence and what responsible use might actually look like in a classroom.
About the difference between creating a beautiful lesson and creating one that actually works with real students on a random Tuesday afternoon.
I’ve also changed my mind about plenty of things, and I expect I’ll change my mind about plenty more.
That’s part of why I finally feel comfortable writing this blog. I’m not starting Speaking with Schlottman because I believe I have all the answers. I’m starting it because I finally trust myself enough to participate in the conversation.
What You’ll Find Here
This will probably be a little bit of everything connected to a life built around communication.
There will be practical classroom ideas.
There will be Speech and Debate coaching.
There will be lessons that worked and lessons that absolutely did not.
There will probably be plenty about public speaking, student confidence, curriculum, competition, technology, and AI in education.
Sometimes I’ll share resources.
Sometimes I’ll work through an idea I’m still figuring out.
And sometimes I’ll probably write about something because I have been thinking about it for three days and my family has heard enough about it.
That seems like as good a reason to have a blog as any.
So, Why Now?
Because four years in, teaching feels different.
Not easy. Not predictable. Not finished.
But mine.
I’ve developed a voice as a teacher and coach that I didn’t have when I started.
And I’ve realized that experience doesn’t suddenly arrive one day with a certificate declaring: Congratulations! You may now have professional opinions.
You build it slowly.
One class. One tournament. One conversation. One spectacularly failed activity. One student breakthrough…
One year at a time.
I’m still early in my career. I’m still learning. But I no longer think those two things disqualify me from having something valuable to say.
So, here I am.
Welcome to Speaking with Schlottman.
I have a feeling I’m going to have a lot to talk about.

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