For decades, my guiding tagline has been:

Improving Code Quality, One Developer at a Time.

That phrase isn’t just marketing; it represents the heart of my career as a software engineer, teacher, writer, and public speaker.

The Roots of Teaching and Speaking

I’ve been teaching and presenting my entire professional life. I taught Microsoft technology courses at the University of California, San Diego for 18 years, where I developed curricula from the ground up. My journey as a speaker began early—less than a year into my career as a full-time engineer, I was invited to present at my first conference. From classrooms to corporate training rooms to international conferences, sharing knowledge has been part of my DNA.

The Joy of Impact

Few things bring me more joy than watching others grow. Seeing a new developer gain skills, confidence, and eventually land a high-paying job that supports their family is one of the most rewarding aspects of what I do. Honestly, if I could dedicate my career full-time to teaching and mentoring, I would.

That’s why I put so much effort into preparation. Designing a brand-new class? I spend 40+ hours a week on each class—on top of a 40-hour workweek. Preparing for a conference session? Another 40 hours easily, more if I’m writing and polishing code demos, creating visuals, and weaving in my unique tech/rock-n’-roll presentation style.

Working that many hours for a class or presentation is a lot of work for very little pay or none at all, but the rewards can be tremendous.

I remember one time, not long after I started teaching at UCSD, I was out at a restaurant in my local area for happy hour. One of my former students came up to me and expressed how much he had learned from the Microsoft Access class he took. While sharing his thoughts, he told me that he had found a job to support his family and even revealed his salary. At the time, he was making more annually than I did!

I’ve shared this story before, but it’s one that really shaped me as a speaker. After I had finally overcome my fear of public speaking, I was invited to give a two-hour lecture to a high school programming class during the last week of school. To be honest, I was already feeling the weight of stress and anxiety speaking to teenagers, but the teacher’s only request made it worse: he wanted me to inspire his students—kids from an affluent part of San Diego, whose parents were doctors, lawyers, and judges—to pursue careers in technology. Talk about pressure! Not only was I worried about keeping teenagers engaged for two full hours at the end of the school year, but now I also had to compete with the high expectations set by their families’ prestigious careers.

In the end, I came up with two strategies to keep them focused, and they worked better than I could have imagined. The students not only stayed engaged, but several came up afterward to thank me personally. A few even stayed in touch long after the lecture, reaching out with questions as they began exploring technology for themselves. That experience showed me that with preparation and creativity, it’s possible to inspire even the toughest audiences.

One of the most effective strategies I developed while speaking to teenagers proved so successful that I later incorporated it into my classes at UC San Diego — and the results were remarkable! In fact, I still use this same approach today in my conference presentations around the world. Want to see it in action? Join one of my sessions and experience it for yourself!

The Modern Speaking and Teaching Landscape

The modern speaking and teaching landscape has changed a lot since I started. When I began, websites were just becoming popular—it was before the Internet Bubble. We learned from books. We didn’t even have cell phones! All conferences and classes were in person, which remains my preferred method of teaching and speaking.

Since I’ve been teaching and speaking my whole career, I firmly believe most people learn better in person. I think we all rediscovered this during the COVID pandemic. In a classroom, showing up each week and interacting with the teacher and other students enhances learning. It’s simple to ask questions, and many of my students would stay after class to ask even more. My rule was: I don’t go home until there aren’t any more questions. Students also learn from one another, either by the questions asked in class or through peer conversations. Much of this still cannot be replaced by technology.

In fact, when UCSD wanted to start offering virtual classes, I was one of the first teachers they approached. But based on my beliefs, I told them I wasn’t interested. I felt—and still do—that I couldn’t make the same impact virtually.

The same applies to conferences. People always learn more by attending in person. They can interact with speakers, ask questions, network with other attendees, and even find connections that lead to new jobs. As a speaker, presenting in person is far more enjoyable. My endorphins kick in. I can read audience expressions, gauge engagement, and adjust my delivery accordingly. I can also network with other speakers and attendees. I learn from them too!

I’ve never shared this before, but about ten years ago, there was a period in my speaking career when, after every conference, I’d become so ill I could barely get out of bed for days. Despite consulting with several medical professionals for years, no one could pinpoint the cause. Over time, I came to believe that my body was simply shutting down from the sheer amount of energy I poured into each event. Did that stop me from speaking? Not a chance!

Virtual speaking, by contrast, is full of distractions. At home, it’s harder to stay focused. Even in person, distractions multiplied once smartphones became common around 2007. My first online training was for Microsoft in the early 2000s, and I didn’t like it then—and I still don’t. Speaking into a computer screen will never compare to speaking to real, live people. The COVID pandemic forced us online, but if I have a choice, I’ll always pick in-person.

Recently, a user group leader in Texas contacted me to speak at their group. They usually meet virtually, but I asked for an in-person session. They found a venue, and I’ll be speaking there this November.

The Hard Part: Criticism

With all that effort, negative feedback can hit hard. The first time I received a poor review from a student, I cut back on teaching for a while. When someone calls out a mistake during a live session or leaves harsh feedback in a survey, I still take it personally.

But here’s the truth I had to learn the hard way—and it’s something every speaker and teacher needs to hear:

You cannot please everyone in the audience or classroom.

There will always be people who don’t like your delivery, your style, or even you. I’ve done this long enough to spot them in the crowd. Ironically, they’re often the ones who spend most of their time not paying attention, yet take the most time filling out feedback forms.

Here’s how I distinguish useful feedback from noise:

• Noise often sounds angry, blaming me that they didn’t learn.
• Feedback is thoughtful, logical, and offers something I can apply next time.

If someone simply doesn’t like my presentation for whatever reason, I know I still did my job well, but I just couldn’t reach that one person. I listen, but put less weight on it.

After the first really bad feedback, I mostly stopped worrying about mandatory student surveys. If I truly did a poor job, my manager would let me know, and we could create a plan to improve. Sometimes students are simply having a bad day, or—like in one case—they never participated in class and wanted someone to blame for their low grade.

Finding My Anchor

To overcome discouragement, I leaned into my tagline. My personal goal became simple:
If I can help just one person, whether it’s improving their code, inspiring them to write better software, or giving them confidence to ace an interview, then I’ve succeeded.

Would I love to reach everyone? Absolutely. That’s why I continue to work so hard to design sessions that engineers truly need. But when criticism comes, I remind myself: if even one developer walks away better equipped, the effort was worth it.

What Every Speaker and Teacher Should Remember

Whether you’re brand-new to speaking or have been teaching for decades, this lesson is crucial:

• Do your absolute best.
• Prepare thoroughly.
• Deliver with passion.
• Design slides to highlight one idea per visual.
• Rehearse in front of a non-technical friend, your team, or a local group to improve clarity.

But don’t set yourself up with unrealistic expectations. No matter how hard you work, someone will criticize. When that happens, let it roll off your back—or better yet, use it as fuel to sharpen your presentation next time.

Because the real measure of success isn’t universal approval.
It’s the positive impact you leave on even one person in your audience.

Call to Action

I hope this article sheds light on the art of public speaking and helps you in your journey. Do you have any stories to share? I would love to hear them—comment below or email me directly at dotnetdave@live.com.

If you are new to speaking or teaching, here’s an assignment:

• Find one person to mentor this month. Mentoring is a great way to get your feet wet, and it is very rewarding.
• Find a conference or local group where you want to share your knowledge and submit your first talk proposal. Who knows? They might accept it, and that’s where the real work starts—and the real satisfaction follows.

Mentorship and speaking can change lives—both yours and others’. If you’ve stepped into either of these roles, I’d love to hear your story. Share it in the comments and let’s keep inspiring one another.

I have written many articles about speaking, and you can find them here:
https://bit.ly/DotNetDavePublicSpeaking

Pick up any books by David McCarter by going to Amazon.com: http://bit.ly/RockYourCodeBooks

If you liked this article, please buy David a cup of Coffee by going here: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/dotnetdave

© The information in this article is copywritten and cannot be preproduced in any way without express permission from David McCarter.