Ten years teaching secondary students — four of them running dyslexia intervention for kids who had already stopped trying. Now I build the courses. Backward from the outcome, in short iterative cycles, revised by what the learner data actually says.
Every link below opens something you can actually use — not a screenshot, not a slide about a project. Click any of them.
A self-paced course teaching the six components of structured literacy to Grades 6–12 content-area teachers — the science, biology, and history teachers who can see a student struggling but cannot name what broke. Six measurable outcomes, three learner tracks, built as a full design portfolio.
A mastery-gated escape room. Teachers read real student evidence — a misread word, a glossary entry, a stalled sentence — and name which component of reading broke down. Six locks, six components. A wrong answer returns a guided hint instead of a score, so nobody shuts down.
A speech intervention platform for K–12 learners, with progress tracking, text-to-speech feedback, and a printable certificate at the end. Built for the kid who needs the practice and the adult who needs the record.
Five-module training on plastic upcycling for community collectors, with 15 scenario-based mastery checks. Module 2 covers PVC hazards and is gated at 3/3 — you do not pass a safety module by guessing.
Most model arguments are a category error. "What counts as success" and "how do I get there" are different questions, so they get different answers.
Outcomes and evidence get fixed first, backward from what a learner must actually be able to do. This part does not move. A syllable rule is either correct or it is not, and a shaky version handed to a teacher gets carried into a classroom the next morning.
Everything else is built in short evaluate–design–develop cycles with real people reacting to rough versions. Version one is meant to be thrown away. That is not failure — it is the cheapest possible way to find out you were wrong.
The failure I design against: scope drift by prototype. An activity is fun, everyone likes it, and it quietly starts assessing something easier than the outcome required. Nobody decides to do this — it happens one reasonable cycle at a time. So every cycle closes with one question: does this still produce the evidence the outcome requires? If not, the activity is wrong — not the outcome.
I spent a decade in Texas classrooms — Spring ISD, Fort Bend ISD, Alvin ISD — and the last stretch of it doing dyslexia intervention with secondary students. Teenagers who had been failing at reading for eight years and had built an entire personality around not caring.
What I learned there is the thing I now design around: the adults could see the struggle but could not name it. A science teacher knows a student is drowning in the lab handout. They do not know whether it is phonology, morphology, or syntax — so they cannot help. That gap is what every course I build is aimed at.
I work under Sankofa Learning Design. The Sankofa bird looks backward while moving forward: it is not wrong to go back for what you forgot. That is a fair description of remediation, and a fair description of iterative design.
I am finishing an M.Ed. in Learning Design & Technology at UMGC and looking for an instructional design role — K–12, higher ed, or corporate. I write my own code, run my own data, and would rather be told a prototype is wrong than find out later.
I am actively looking. If you have a course that is not landing, or a body of knowledge nobody can teach quickly enough, that is exactly the problem I like.
Houston, TX · 713-997-0193 · Open to remote.