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| So much reading, so little time |
I didn’t expect to learn how to read when I came to Stanford, but you can bet that’s one of the first lessons I learnt. There I sat in the lounge at 1AM (or was it 2AM) with about 20 pages to read for one history class, and 4 chapters of a thick book for another. I popped my headphones in, got comfy, and began the journey.
Sometime during my in-depth reading, I realised that half the details I sat there painstakingly internalising weren’t even necessary. The general theme of my class was History of the Middle Ages, the “Fall” of Rome, Christianity etc, so why did I have to know the details of King Clovis’ love for gore? Sure, it helped me understand the culture and atmosphere of that time, but did I need to know what he might have been wearing down to the colour of his last button? Naw. What was important was the big picture.
Even in my War class (100,000 Years of War, a look at the history of war and the decline in war and the possible causes for this) the Professor in his book (!) mentioned the importance of having a wide perspective in analysing the history of war. You can’t look too closely and focus on the personal stories of warriors and soldiers, because you'd miss the point and purpose. Yet you can’t attempt to look from a distant stance because you won’t be close enough to form a realistic opinion. It’s all about balance. Close enough to see the details, but far enough to view the large picture.
So as I sat there reading, I realised that memorising and internalising a bunch of irrelevant facts wasn’t going to help me pass my mid-term. Besides, if I wanted to benefit from the class on the whole, it wasn’t just about wanting to pass the exams. I had to understand and appreciate the broad message. Knowing the general gist of a reading came in super-handy: the claims made by authors, the overall views that they held, the context, and how it relates to other texts of the same nature. Of course, details would help support the interpretation that I came up with. But random regurgitated facts and stats that lacked any real context were as useless as a Cal shirt in the Stanford bookstore - nobody needs or wants it.
The next task was to learn how to isolate the important points while still paying attention to quotes and details that support those points. Highlighting arbitrarily was of no use. Was I going to go back to all those pages I read and internalise what I highlighted? Nope. I could barely keep up with the sheer volume of reading, so why would I fool myself into thinking that I’d go back to past readings. Ha. I had to find a way to combine my past methods of success with current needs. I’d always been a note-taker, and an assiduous one at that. Any subject - you name it - my notes were colour-coded,
sectioned, and comprehensive. Word for word regurgitations that I could pull out of my brain for any exam. Obviously, this wasn’t how things worked at Stanford, or university for that matter.
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| Trying to be meticulous about taking reading notes |
So how to tweak my note-taking meticulousness to my advantage?
Here’s what I tried: Writing out the main points in one line and outlining supporting evidence in the next. In fact, it’s just dawned on me that I should probably reference the quotes I wrote as well so I can easily find them in the text (why hadn’t I thought of that before??).
Why writing? Because writing consolidates information. Reading is active yes, and many different parts of the brain are worked out, that’s for sure. However, remembering what we read is a different story, and writing things down is an active process. I suppose our brains have to focus on not only getting the idea across - as you could do by thinking about it or speaking - but also forming the words of that very idea. It’s more work, and it helps you remember. Besides, when I’ve converted the eloquent language and terms of these readings to my own simple, shorthand jargon, it was easier to visualise what I’d written and recall it when necessary.
I’ve learnt that no reading is to be analysed in a vacuum. But when you think of the reading that you’re doing in terms of and in relation to other text, and the purpose of the course/class, you begin to draw useful conclusions, rather than forming a single, unilateral opinion.
And there’s this: Uni isn’t about reading for leisure. Oh heck no. I mean, if I had the time, I would love to read Noble Savages like a novel, and enjoy the story of Chagnon’s experience with the Yanomami people. Despite being a speed reader, I still read each sentence and derive some kind of meaning and enjoyment from it. This wasn’t the case for assigned course readings. It would take me hours to read each of my course texts for enjoyment and analysis. I’ve had to settle for actively skimming the work, which isn’t as fruitful, but it’s necessary for now. Maybe at least until I finalise a schedule/routine and actually find time to read leisurely.
That’s it until next time. I have an entire book to read and a paper to write for Tuesday. Time to put my new tactics to work.
(PS: If you think writing that paper was tough, studying for the mid-term was even tougher. Read more about it here!)