Towards the end of my Postgraduate Diploma in Policy and Practice in Higher Education, the module Supporting Academic Professional Development asked something different of me. Not another policy analysis, nor another deep dive into pedagogy, but a drawing together—of ideas, of experiences, of identity. It was a culminating moment, and a quietly transformative one.
The language of “professional development” is so often treated as a box to tick, a list of training sessions or compliance milestones. But in this module, I came to understand it as a provocation: to interrogate the shape of my academic identity, to open up my practice to critique, and to begin thinking systemically about the institutional environments we inhabit and shape.
Working through the assessments—an extended reflective portfolio and a written submission for HEA Fellowship—I found myself returning to a central tension: the idea that excellence in education cannot be disentangled from external engagement. The notion of the permeable university (Stuart and Shutt, 2019) resonated deeply with me. It offered a way of thinking about universities not as ivory towers, nor as market-facing entities alone, but as collaborative, adaptive systems that are responsive to their communities. That thinking shaped my efforts to build experiential learning opportunities with NHS partners, to reimagine the boundaries of simulation in teaching, and to support interdisciplinary approaches to staff development across our school.
But the module also gave me space to take stock of where I had started. I entered higher education through a clinical route—as an acute respiratory physiotherapist. My early teaching was shaped by instinct and empathy, not by pedagogic frameworks. There was a steep learning curve, a healthy dose of imposter syndrome, and moments of deep discomfort. Yet, in unpacking those early experiences alongside the UK Professional Standards Framework, I saw the coherence emerging: how each shift in practice, each attempt at innovation or leadership, was not isolated but interconnected.
The written submission allowed me to articulate a trajectory. It gave language to what I had often only felt—about inclusion, about feedback literacy, about authenticity in assessment. More importantly, it invited me to look outward. The reflective pieces weren’t just about personal growth; they were about how my development could support others: learners, colleagues, partners.
Looking back, the module didn’t just mark the completion of a course. It marked a transition: from doing teaching to being an academic. One who understands their influence not just in a seminar room, but in shaping cultures, systems, and futures.
Dean Walker 