My little skulls

It’s second grade, and I’m in the bathroom. I’m writing on my leg, just above the hem of my shorts. This is the first and only time I’ve cheated in school. (I was straight in more than one way growing up.)

We had to memorize the months of the year. As I was taking the quiz earlier that day, I realized in a panic that I couldn’t come up with them. Quickly, a plan came to mind. If you didn’t have time to finish a quiz or test, we were allowed to finish it at recess. So I stalled, knowing I’d have the opportunity to help myself out before then.

I’m kind of proud that I came up with the plan, and that it worked. And I feel for that child, so afraid of messing up, and lacking in the self-knowledge she needed to learn what she was expected to learn.

Now, I’m about to enter massage school! I’m going to learn a profession that I’m excited to join, a new way to help people, and also to get by in this capitalist world.

But becoming a massage therapist requires learning anatomy. And reading textbooks. And listening to lectures. They’re three things that I’ve struggled with in all my schooling so far. Going to a discussion-focused liberal arts school and majoring in studio art helped me limit how much I had to participate in any of those, and that’s not an option now.

Today, though, I know myself so much better. And I know how to advocate for myself. I worked with the head of the school to get my textbooks and school materials ahead of class starting. One of her tenets of the school is following adult learning principles, and she gets that everyone varies in how we learn. It’s one reason I picked the school.

So, in the weeks leading up to the beginning of classes, I’ve been exploring how I learn. There are textbooks and online lectures and lecture notes. I’m figuring what order of studying them works best for me. I’m experimenting with what speed I watch the videos, and how I take notes. I make space for extra bits, like tracing a diagram of regions of the body, so I can engage with it in a way that works for my brain and my hands. I’m giving myself permission to take the time I need now, while I can do this practicing.

And I’m facing: how do I memorize all these Latinate words??

The traditional ways are flash cards and mnemonics. I know those aren’t great for me.

It turns out that—I’m sure you’ll be surprised—what I need are stories. When I notice that two names for the elbow—cubital and antecubital—have the base “cubit,” but a third—olecranal—has the same base as a name for the skull, I dig in. The text just says that they mean elbow, and I think, surely there weren’t two Latin words for elbow that meant exactly the same thing as what we mean when we say elbow. I turn to Wikipedia, and although I don’t get the answer for why there are two different roots, I do get the story I need.

I find out that olecranal means “little skull.” I discover that it’s not just the name of the elbow generally, but that olecranon is the name of the cup-shaped bit at the end of my ulna, one of the arm bones. It’s not hard for me to connect that shape with the shape of the skull. I also find myself imagining two extra heads in the bends of my arms, ready to be backup when I need them.

For cubital, which means… cube, I imagine the arm bent at a right angle, the same as every angle in a cube.

It feels like a lot of exploring and learning just to learn three words of the dozens I need to learn for this particular memorization task. It’s easy to think it’s a waste of time, and I should instead use rote memorization the way “everybody else” does.

Most of today-me, knows, however, that I don’t need to be everybody else. I need to be me. And this exploration is what works for me.

What’s more, it’s fun! I love digging into these nuances and tracing the goofy and beautiful ways that human language evolves. I love finding and creating stories and imagery.

I don’t have to be that little girl, afraid of being discovered for being different. I can be the person I am today, ready to learn how they learn best.

Mentioned in this issue: the olecranon.