GWO BTT: The big industry problem that nobody's talking about
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None of this was planned.
Fresh from my apprenticeship, I became a trainer and felt like an imposter among seasoned experts. 6 months later, teaching troubleshooting changed everything; I’d found my passion for learning, shaping the future of WTS.
“I guess they’ll just let anyone be a trainer here now.”
That was a real quote. Said about me, in front of me, but not directly to me.
I laughed along with the lads, I didn’t take it as offensive at the time.
But it shows you where my head was at. I did feel like “someone off the street.” Like I didn’t belong. I’d only finished my apprenticeship a few months earlier, and now here I was - a technical instructor for one of the biggest turbine manufacturers in the world.
I was teaching alongside older, more experienced trainers, some of whom had been with Siemens for 15 years. It’s safe to say, I didn’t exactly fit in. Not just because of the lack of grey hairs.
Zero bullshit
I didn’t let my inexperience slow me down though, I couldn’t. I’d just found out my first baby was on the way.
My motivation was through the roof. I knew I’d be teaching experienced technicians and the last thing I wanted was to make a fool of myself.
I’d sat through enough bad training to know what not to do. So I adopted a zero-bullshit approach.
If I didn’t know the answer to a question, I’d tell people straight, and then I’d make damn sure I found out for them.
Level 6 Troubleshooting - a turning point
Six months into the job, I started teaching the Level 6 Troubleshooting course. That’s when things turned a corner for me.
For the first time, I could really sink my teeth into something. The control systems of the turbines were complex, the learning curve was steep, but I loved it.
During sessions, I’d write down every single question I couldn’t answer. After the learners went home, I’d go hunting. Google, YouTube, manufacturer manuals, phone calls to component suppliers, calls to technicians I knew from sites.
At the start, the lists were comically long. But I never stopped. Over time, the lists got shorter. The courses got sharper. And I could feel myself growing into the role.
I’d found my passion.
The ceiling
It wasn’t long before I gained confidence. I knew my approach was working. I knew technicians valued the training.
But I also felt boxed in. The structure of the training was rigid. Siemens is a huge company, and I was just a small cog in the machine. I wanted to make changes, adapt things, improve things, but I couldn’t.
Still, it felt like the dream job: decent wage, half-day Fridays, good mates. I remember standing next to a colleague looking at the new Siemens 6MW direct-drive training nacelle and saying,
“We’ll have a job for life here.”
Redundancy and a moment of clarity
Not long after that, the bomb dropped.
The training centre was moving to Hull. My role was being made redundant.
Then, as if that wasn’t enough, I fell ill with meningitis. I spent weeks out of action. Even when I was home from hospital, I was stuck in bed, dosed up on painkillers for brutal headaches whenever I sat up.
And then I had a moment of clarity.
What if I started my own training business?
A business where I could build the training I wished I’d had. Training that put people first. Training that adapted to the individual. Training that actually made sense of the job.
Against all advice
I spoke to colleagues, friends, family. Nearly all of them said the same thing: Bad idea.
But I couldn’t shake it. So I went for it.
And that’s how WTS was born.
Next week: "None of This Was Planned – Part 8/8: From Passion to Purpose." The journey from an idea in bed to a business with a mission.
