Micro-teaching occupies this strange place in FE training. On paper it’s simple: deliver a short session to demonstrate your ability to plan, teach and assess. In reality, it’s a deeply human experience featuring nerves, time pressure, peers watching you, someone inevitably being asked to pretend they’re interested in “The History of Crochet” or “How to Bake Gluten-Free Banana Bread,” and the sudden realisation that 15 minutes is about the same length as a TV advert break.

So let’s talk honestly about micro-teaching—what it is, what it isn’t, and how to approach it without accidentally attempting to deliver the entire national curriculum in quarter of an hour.

1. What micro-teaching is really about

Far too many people treat micro-teaching as a performance. They think they have to be flawless, entertaining, slick, and possibly wearing a headset microphone. None of that is true.

Micro-teaching exists for one purpose:
To show you understand the basics of how people learn.

You’re not being assessed on:

• Subject-matter expertise

• Dramatic flair

• Your ability to memorise a script

• Broadway-level showmanship

You are being assessed on whether you can:

• Plan a structured session

• Introduce clear objectives

• Deliver content in a logical, inclusive way

• Check learning

• Create a positive learning environment

That’s it. If you’ve ever shown someone how to use a printer, assemble flatpack furniture, or operate a kettle with a dodgy switch, you’ve already done 80% of what micro-teaching requires.

2. 15 minutes is not a challenge… it’s the point

Some learners panic when told they have only 15 minutes. Others react with the confidence of a 90s infomercial host: “Oh, I can easily fill 15 minutes, trust me.”

Both groups quickly discover the truth:
Fifteen minutes is both a lifetime and a blink.

The danger is trying to do too much. I’ve seen micro-teaches with:

• Full theoretical frameworks

• Three activities

• A written assessment

• A quiz

• A reflective plenary

• Laminated resources (always laminated)

• And at least four concepts that could each be their own workshop

This usually ends one of two ways:

1. A mad rush through the final 7 minutes

2. The moment where the tutor says gently “…shall we pause there?”

Micro-teaching is not a TED Talk. You are not trying to change the world. You are trying to teach one clear thing.

Think of it like a small plate at a tapas restaurant: satisfying, purposeful, enjoyable—and absolutely not the entire meal.

3. Pick a topic you genuinely enjoy (or at least understand)

One of the strangest phenomena in FE is how learners will choose micro-teach topics they have no real connection to. I once saw a learner attempt a session on “Ancient Egyptian Burial Practices” purely because they “sounded interesting.” They regretted that choice quickly.

The best micro-teach topics are:

• Something you can explain confidently

• Not overly broad

• Easy to break into steps

• Contain an obvious, practical skill

• Bring out your personality

I've seen brilliant micro-teaches on:

• Mindfulness breathing techniques

• Basic sign language fingerspelling

• How to fold a fitted sheet (black magic, truly)

• Self-defence stances

• Editing photos on a smartphone

• Budgeting envelopes

• Safe knife skills

• Identifying edible herbs

It doesn’t need to be clever. It needs to be teachable.

4. Planning: the part nobody likes but everyone needs

A good micro-teach plan has three essential components:

a. An introduction that sets expectations

This includes a warm welcome, your learning objective (“By the end, you’ll be able to…”), and a brief explanation of what the session will involve.

b. A clear sequence

Humans do well with structure. A simple format like explain → demonstrate → practice → recap works beautifully in a 15-minute window.

c. A check of learning

This doesn’t need to be a test. It can be:

• A quick question

• A paired discussion

• A short demonstration

• A “turn and show me” moment

People worry this will feel forced. It won’t. It will feel like teaching.

And yes—you do need to write the plan down. Micro-teaching feels chaotic enough without trying to remember what comes next while your peers stare up at you with polite, expectant faces.

5. The secret ingredient: keep it interactive

Micro-teach sessions go wrong when they become a 12-minute monologue followed by a 3-minute apology.

The only unforgivable mistake in a micro-teach is talking at people the whole time.

Adults learn by doing. Even your peers pretending to be “learners” want to join in. And it doesn’t have to be complicated. You can involve people by asking them to:

• Try the technique themselves

• Practise in pairs

• Answer a simple question

• Identify something in a picture

• Contribute their experiences

• Vote or choose between options

Interaction creates energy—and energy creates engagement.

6. Resources: less is often more

There is an unspoken competition in every AET cohort about who will turn up to their micro-teach with the most impressive resources. Flashcards, foldables, mini-whiteboards, colour-coded packets, props, videos—it becomes a creative arms race.

And while good resources absolutely elevate a session, they do not need to be elaborate to be effective.

Micro-teach resources should be:

• Clear

• Accessible

• Easy to use

• Relevant to your topic

• Designed to support learners, not distract them

A simple step-by-step sheet or a well-chosen image can be far more powerful than a high-production-value PowerPoint.

Also, please avoid the temptation to laminate everything. We’re teaching adults, not running a primary school phonics station.

7. Your peers are not judging you as much as you think

Micro-teaching anxiety is real. People fear:

• Forgetting their words

• Running out of time

• Going blank

• Tripping over

• Looking unprofessional

• Their activity failing

• Their mind going completely silent

• Being stared at by ten adults who don’t blink

Here's the truth: everyone else in the room is far too focused on their own micro-teach to judge yours.

They’re thinking about their timing, their resources, their assessment, their nerves. They are rooting for you—not waiting for you to fail.

And if you do drop something, lose your place, or accidentally call someone by the wrong name… congratulations, you’ve now demonstrated authentic teaching. These things happen daily in real classrooms.

8. Assessment: what tutors actually look for

AET tutors do not expect perfection. They do expect evidence of:

Planning

Did you show a learner-centred sequence? Clear aims? Logical steps?

Inclusion

Did you use varied approaches? Support different needs? Make the session accessible?

Engagement

Did learners get hands-on? Did you involve them?

Communication

Were your explanations clear, calm and purposeful?

Assessment for learning

Did you check understanding in some way?

Achieve those five, and you pass—with strength.

Most micro-teach “fails” come down to only two things:

1. Overloading content

2. Not involving learners

Avoid those, and you’re golden.

9. The unexpected joy of micro-teaching

For all its reputation, micro-teaching often becomes one of the most enjoyable parts of the AET.

It is the moment when people surprise themselves—when someone who swore they were “terrified of teaching” suddenly lights up while showing the group how to use a compass, or cook an omelette, or build a simple budget in Excel.

Micro-teaching is a confidence engine.

It gives learners a safe, structured chance to try out the role of “teacher” with scaffolding, encouragement, and a group of peers who genuinely want them to succeed.

And for many, it’s the first time they realise: “I can actually do this.”

10. The best advice I can offer? Keep it human.

Your micro-teach doesn’t need to be scripted or slick. It needs to feel like you. Authenticity is the most inclusive thing you can offer.

Laugh if something goes wrong.
Use stories.
Be warm.
Pause when you need to.
Tell people what you’re doing and why.

You are not being assessed on performing teaching.
You are being assessed on being a teacher.

And teaching—real teaching—is human, imperfect, joyful, messy, structured, thoughtful, unpredictable, and full of moments where someone suddenly understands something that was impossible five minutes ago.

If you can create even one of those moments in your 15 minutes, you’ve succeeded.