GTME Ecosystem - GTME & AI Teacher

WHAT YOU'LL DO - Be a primary face of Clay University. You'll record courses, Looms, and walkthroughs that thousands of GTMEs watch every week. Your voice and your build style become part of how people learn the discipline. - Own full content lifecycle for the topics you take on. You'll prep the curriculum, record it, capture the screen flows, and hand off to editors — not throw a script over the wall and hope. - Ship at AI's pace. A new feature drops, a new model lands, a new use case emerges. You don't wait for a content cycle to align — you record, ship, iterate, and re-record when something better lands two weeks later. - Bring back the magic of the OG looms. Polished production is great, but live builds — "here's the mistake I just made and here's how I'm thinking about fixing it" — are what made early Clay content unforgettable. You'll make sure that energy stays in our content as we scale. - Translate cross-functional brilliance into content. Solutions, GTMOps, and Forward Deployed GTMEs build incredible things every day. You'll be in their workflows, pulling out the gold, and turning it into University-grade lessons. - Iterate on what resonates. You'll measure what lands, what doesn't, and use that signal to make every next piece sharper than the last. WHO YOU ARE - A learner first, a teacher second. When a frontier model drops a new release, you're playing with it that evening. When a new Clay feature ships, you're already filming with it on day one. - Comfortable on-camera and in the edit bay. You don't need to be a polished YouTuber, but you're at home being recorded, riffing live, and re-takes don't drain you. - A builder who teaches by doing. Your default mode is "let me just show you in Clay" — not slides, not abstractions. Your best teaching happens with your hands on the keyboard. - Obsessed with shipping cadence. You know that a great walkthrough shipped this week beats a perfect one shipped next quarter. You'd rather record three scrappy lessons than over-produce one. - High taste on craft. Velocity matters, but so does the bar. You can tell the difference between a Loom that teaches and a Loom that wastes someone's time, and you hold yourself to the former. - Comfortable in ambiguity. GTM Engineering is an emerging discipline. There's no established playbook for what its content library should look like — you're excited to help build it. - Proven hunger, not just potential. You've already built a body of content somewhere — a YouTube channel, a course, a Loom library, a Substack with screen recordings, a portfolio of teaching content. You don't need someone to tell you to ship. WHO YOU ARE NOT - A scriptwriter who hates the camera. This role is on-camera. If recording yourself is something you tolerate rather than enjoy, the pace will burn you out. - A perfectionist who can't ship until it's flawless. Our content has to keep up with AI's pace. If you can't hit "publish" on a 90% Loom because you wanted 100%, the rhythm here will frustrate you. - A polish-only producer. This isn't only big, beautifully edited courses. Half the magic is in scrappy, in-the-moment builds. If you only love the polished side, you'll miss what makes our content special. - Someone who needs a tight script to feel safe. A lot of the best content comes from live builds where you're problem-solving in real time. If you can't riff, this won't work. - A creator without a learner's mindset. Great content here isn't just about production — it's about understanding the user's journey, what trips them up, and how to actually make it click. If you love the camera but not the curriculum, the work will feel hollow.

WHO YOU ARE - A learner first, a teacher second. When a frontier model drops a new release, you're playing with it that evening. When a new Clay feature ships, you're already filming with it on day one. - Comfortable on-camera and in the edit bay. You don't need to be a polished YouTuber, but you're at home being recorded, riffing live, and re-takes don't drain you. - A builder who teaches by doing. Your default mode is "let me just show you in Clay" — not slides, not abstractions. Your best teaching happens with your hands on the keyboard. - Obsessed with shipping cadence. You know that a great walkthrough shipped this week beats a perfect one shipped next quarter. You'd rather record three scrappy lessons than over-produce one. - High taste on craft. Velocity matters, but so does the bar. You can tell the difference between a Loom that teaches and a Loom that wastes someone's time, and you hold yourself to the former. - Comfortable in ambiguity. GTM Engineering is an emerging discipline. There's no established playbook for what its content library should look like — you're excited to help build it. - Proven hunger, not just potential. You've already built a body of content somewhere — a YouTube channel, a course, a Loom library, a Substack with screen recordings, a portfolio of teaching content. You don't need someone to tell you to ship. WHO YOU ARE NOT - A scriptwriter who hates the camera. This role is on-camera. If recording yourself is something you tolerate rather than enjoy, the pace will burn you out. - A perfectionist who can't ship until it's flawless. Our content has to keep up with AI's pace. If you can't hit "publish" on a 90% Loom because you wanted 100%, the rhythm here will frustrate you. - A polish-only producer. This isn't only big, beautifully edited courses. Half the magic is in scrappy, in-the-moment builds. If you only love the polished side, you'll miss what makes our content special. - Someone who needs a tight script to feel safe. A lot of the best content comes from live builds where you're problem-solving in real time. If you can't riff, this won't work. - A creator without a learner's mindset. Great content here isn't just about production — it's about understanding the user's journey, what trips them up, and how to actually make it click. If you love the camera but not the curriculum, the work will feel hollow.