A Proper Weekend (and a UX Approach to Learning)

This weekend felt like the first properly normal one since the Christmas > New Year chaos. Yes, I know—it’s embarrassingly late in January to be saying that.

Between living in Bristol, visiting my partner’s parents in Norfolk (up t’north… ish, where Alan Partridge is from), and my own parents in rural Lincolnshire (yes, where the sausages are from - not much else), it’s taken a while to feel human again. 

A lot of tiny roads, a lot of driving, and a slightly convoluted route back to the land of the living.

N.B., I should clarify, I intend no offence to my home county - that's bants, innit!

So this weekend, I decided to get my teeth into something deeply satisfying. Something that required focus. No doom-scrolling-boredom involved. Something challenging and new.

I’m currently halfway through my TEFL (Teaching English as a foreign Language) course, and this weekend was all about teaching grammar and phonetics. Modules passed—thank you very much. 🎉

That said, despite having an A-level in linguistics and a degree in English Literature, it was still hard. Getting back into academic-style study—tests, terminology, structured learning—after years working in web meant dusting off skills I hadn’t used in a while.

What surprised me most was how different it felt this time around. Studying in my 40s vs. my late teens and 20s? A completely different experience. Less blind memorisation, more logic. More experience.

More questioning - why are we doing this?

Out came the notebook. The highlighters. The comforting illusion of control. But this wasn’t just theory—I’m learning things I’m teaching real people, in real life. And that’s where my UX brain kicked in.

Because whether I’m designing a digital product or a lesson plan, the same rule applies: start with the user.

In this case, my “users” are English language learners. Their experience levels will vary wildly. They may speak completely different native languages. They could be children, teenagers or professionals. Some might want conversational English, others business English, others grammar and pronunciation improvement.

Many use cases to consider.

So I did what any good UX-er would do: I tested assumptions. I put myself in their shoes.

I wanted to avoid becoming the stereotypical Brit abroad—speaking louder and slower and somehow assuming that helps. Instead, I reached out to friends who speak other languages. Polish. Spanish. Could they understand me? Mostly yes—but those languages share enough structure with English that it wasn’t a huge leap.

Then came Vietnamese. A whole different game.

I tested my very questionable attempt with Hieu, who leads the most wonderful development team at DXC (seriously—look them up). We worked together during my time managing UX at Zurich Insurance, and his team even hosted my partner and me in Vietnam one Christmas. An unforgettable experience.

Hieu couldn’t understand what I’d said at all. But once I explained it in English, he recognised it immediately—and kindly gave me tips to improve. He even shared a language course his company had designed to help learners like me.

And honestly? That moment changed everything.

Walking a mile in someone else’s linguistic shoes took the guesswork away, as any good testing does. It highlighted stumbling blocks I’d never considered. It made me rethink how lessons should be structured—more creatively, more interactively, and with far more empathy. Not just following the rulebook, but designing lessons people actually enjoy.

The proof will be in the pudding (whatever the Vietnamese equivalent of that may be), but I’m excited.

To teach. To test. To learn. To iterate based on feedback.

They learn, and so do I. The perfect relationship!

Same in teaching. Same in UX.

Cảm ơn Hieu và DXC, các bạn đã giúp đỡ rất nhiều. Và gửi đến tất cả những ai đang đọc bài này: hãy tận hưởng niềm vui học tập—ở bất kỳ độ tuổi hay động lực nào.

Thanks for everything Hieu!