Rhonda Gamble, Ed.D.
During high school, I lived with my aunt and uncle in Evanston, Wyoming. In their home, a Civil War photograph hung along the basement stairs. I passed this print every day admiring it as an older photograph; yet, I didn’t understand its significance beyond its historical context.
It wasn’t until I was in Advanced Placement US History that I learned more about the photograph. While analyzing primary sources, I discovered that Civil War photographs by Matthew Brady held considerable historical significance. I remember telling my teacher that we had a Brady print at home and he didn’t believe me. That reaction alone indicated how special this print truly was.
However, I didn’t know that print was an even greater personal and professional treasure until March of 2026—almost thirty years after the history course—when I mentioned joining AECT to my uncle. He immediately lit up as he shared the story of an internship he and my aunt completed through their AECT connections. That experience led to an instructional design lesson that still resonates today: the importance of truly knowing your audience.
My aunt was the change agent in her marriage, where she single-mindedly focused on improving her teaching practice. She convinced my uncle to attend an AECT conference in Dallas as non-members. There, they met an instructional team from Utah State University (USU), a connection that led to an internship with Courseware Inc. in San Diego in 1978—and ultimately to the prized Matthew Brady print.
At that Dallas AECT conference, one session changed the trajectory of their careers. The session featured an advanced (for the time) multi-screen projection display from USU. After the presentation, they connected with the USU team and were invited to explore the graduate program. The pair now faced a choice: whether to pause their careers and paychecks in order to transform their teaching practices and the learning experiences of their future students.
As soon as their Spring Break started, the couple packed up their car and drove straight to USU from Houston, Texas. They had one goal: to learn from the USU Ed.S. program in Instructional Design and Development. During that short week, they enrolled in the graduate program, signed up as AECT members, and started their move to Logan, Utah.
My aunt and uncle completed an intensive course load within a shortened academic time frame and soaked in the latest lessons in instructional design. Their exemplary work in turn led to an inside AECT connection with a Courseware Inc. internship in San Diego.
The internship tasked the duo with developing training slide presentations for F-16 pilots regarding cockpit controls and refueling safety on the flight line. This project contained specifications promised in a contract won by Courseware Inc. from the U.S. Federal Government.
Using scripting, storyboarding, and photography experiences from their instructional design courses, they both developed two remarkable trainings for the future F-16 pilots. With skillfully crafted scripts and wireframe drawings, the pair took innumerable photos on the flight line. Afterward, they worked with over twenty artists to design graphics for the presentations that would become 35 millimeter slides paired with a detailed, yet clear script.
After a significant amount of resource investment, my aunt and uncle took their completed training materials to the Luke Air Force Base in Phoenix to demonstrate the training with two groups of pilot trainees. Expecting to hear about the efficacy of the illustrations and smart script conveying complex training regarding F-16s, the evaluation comments resoundingly echoed the actual need of the future pilots—that a manual would be more helpful and portable.
Today, we often talk about student, or user-centered design, but that mindset was shaped by lessons like these. The couple was working from project specifications defined by management in order to win a governmental bid for the training contract. In that environment, a company proposing a simple manual was unlikely to win the contract.
My aunt and uncle were truth-tellers and did not shy away from including the gap in the needs assessment in their final project evaluations. They spoke directly to the pilot’s actual need: a simple, portable manual. Their reflective work now shapes a fundamental first step in our design process. While innovation may capture attention, meaningful learning requires intentional design grounded in the needs of the end user—a principle that remains central to the work and community fostered through AECT.