Learning by doing: what two new hobbies taught me about adult learning

I know that experiential learning matters, but ironically it took some recent learning experiences to really drive that home for me.

I took a pottery class recently. A crash course in wheel throwing, to be precise. At the start of each class, the teacher would demonstrate the technique we were learning that week: first throwing, then trimming, and finally glazing. He would describe what he was doing, as he expertly manoeuvred his hands, showing us what to do from start to finish. There were about 23 different steps and techniques to remember in week one, from forming your mound of clay into a ball and throwing it on the wheel in a way that would stick and centre appropriately, through massaging that clay in different ways to create different forms, and eventually slicing and lifting it off the wheel at the end. Ideally in one smooth and effective gesture. It was a lot to take in. 

We regularly got stuck, unable to recall how to do something, which tool to use at which stage, or unsure how to rectify the messy lump we’d created that looked nothing like what the teacher had shown. When this happened, I could call him over for help. The teacher would take my seat at the wheel and fix my item, modelling again how to do things right. He was kind and patient, saying encouraging things as he described what he was doing and how I could do the same. The trouble was, he’d take over entirely and show me ten different things again, in quick succession and often finishing the piece for me. Those ones turned out really nice. But I would struggle to remember any of the steps involved. The next week, when I tried again on my own, it usually ended up as a lumpy mess.

This reminded me how I’ve heard people on professional development courses complain about not having opportunities to apply their learning at work. Programs like ours make them enthusiastic about co-design for social innovation and systems change, but many don’t yet have the skills and/or authorising environment to carry out the methods they’re excited about. Back in the office they’re told they don’t have the budget to invite service users or community members to take part in research or design activities. They’re asked to facilitate a co-design workshop with a new group but told there isn’t time for a round of introductions. Their projects are too close to implementation to question how the problem was framed or the solution was decided. And so on.

While I always see opportunities to sprinkle systemic design principles and introduce co-design mindsets into these situations, I know it’s not the same as actually getting to fully apply methods and try out new tools. I know how much I learned on the job, when I first landed in a small social innovation agency, by trying things out in real time, getting feedback, iterating, making mistakes, trying again… and usually improving. 

I didn’t go back to that pottery studio, but I did continue another new hobby I’d experimented with at the same time. Another room full of middle-aged, white women in Melbourne’s outer suburbs: a dance class. This one felt different. I didn’t feel so awkward there. And that’s not because my dance skills are any better than my craft skills.

The dance teacher had facilitation experience and knew how to create a safe and welcoming space. She was a great dancer and was so comfortable in her body. She wasn’t a professional dancer, though, and would openly share what she was currently struggling to master. She would mess up sometimes, acknowledge it, and laugh about it. She would break things down, encourage us to ask as many questions as we could, and get us to repeat again and again. She often reminded us how long it took to nail certain moves and to be kind to ourselves. 

Each class would start with a warm up, helping us to get into our bodies and then we’d do drills of particular moves (like chest and hip isolations) before learning one part of the choreography. Over the course of ten classes, we mastered a full choreography to one song. 

A lot of the music we danced to was hip hop, and this clearly wasn’t a familiar genre for most of the students. Yet we became comfortable moving to the songs because of how we were being taught. Gradually learning moves and repeating them so many times until they felt familiar. Building upon these moves in increasingly complicated ways. There were options for modifications if your body struggled with something, or add-ons if you were a skilled dancer and could do more. The teacher was able to cater for everyone’s different skill levels in one class. Together we built confidence and style.

These experiences have helped me understand what it feels like to be a learner again and highlighted what makes a good adult learning experience. They’ve enabled me to put a finger on the elements of facilitation and experience design that determine whether or not a space is actually safe enough to learn by doing. That ‘zone of proximal development’ will vary from one individual to another, of course, but there are some common principles and practices we can seek as learners and apply as learning facilitators.

A huge mindset and principle in our programs, as in co-design and innovation, is learning by doing.

So we’ve extended the experiential learning component of our Methods Lab for Systemic Co-Design to include practice projects. Participants choose from three briefs, based on current systemic issues, and form small teams to work on these challenges throughout the program. They’ll get the chance to apply some of the concepts and frameworks we introduce in a safe setting, enabling them to build skills and confidence that they can then apply in their own work.

It’s a chance for people who don’t have the requisite experience and context to benefit from a more advanced program (like Co-Design Practitioners) to build their skill-set and toolkit in a supportive environment. 

The pottery wheel reminded me that watching someone else demonstrate perfection doesn’t translate to personal mastery. The dance studio showed something different: that learning happens when we’re given permission to stumble, ask questions, and build skills incrementally in a supportive environment.

This is why our Methods Lab now includes practice projects—not just because we believe in learning by doing, but because we’ve learned that doing requires the right conditions. When learners feel safe to experiment, make mistakes, and iterate together, we don’t just acquire new skills; we develop the confidence to apply them back in our own contexts.

Whether you’re facilitating a workshop, designing a course, or trying to create change in your organisation, it’s worth remembering that the most powerful learning happens when people can practise in spaces that feel safe enough to fail—and supportive enough to try again.