I've spent two decades explaining technical work to people who don't do technical work for a living — and years doing it at scale, in live cohorts of a hundred people at a time. Training isn't something I add at the end of a project. It's the part that decides whether the project survives me.
Most delivery work stops at step two, which is why so many dashboards are abandoned within a year. Anything I build is designed to reach step five.
The pipeline, the application, the report. This part is invisible to the people who'll depend on it.
Runbooks, architecture notes, what breaks and what to do about it. Written for the person who arrives after I've gone.
Sessions with the actual team, using their data and their questions — not a generic deck. People learn their own numbers faster than anyone else's.
They run the refresh, add the measure, fix the broken row. I'm available, not involved.
The real deliverable. If an organization can't function without me, I've built a dependency and called it a solution.
The content changes completely depending on who's sitting there. Confusing these is the most common reason training doesn't stick.
What the medallion layers are for, how to read a failed pipeline run, when to call someone and when to fix it themselves. Enough to be unafraid of the thing.
For the operations person already making apps and flows. How to build things that don't collapse when they leave — naming, structure, permissions, what belongs in Dataverse and what doesn't.
No tools, no code. Which questions your data can answer, which it can't, what a number is hiding, and how to stop making decisions on the loudest anecdote in the room.
Four things I got wrong early and now build around.
Nobody learns a tool by watching someone else use it. Every session ends with something small to attempt before the next one, and starts with what went wrong.
Most of the people I've taught weren't working in their first language. It's the fastest way to learn that "conformed dimension" is a phrase, not an explanation.
Sample datasets teach the mechanics and none of the meaning. People engage with their own messy numbers because they already know what the answer should be.
People stay for the group more than the instructor. Watching a peer succeed at something is more persuasive than being told it's possible.
That's the only information I need to tell you whether a workshop, a cohort, or nothing at all is the right answer.