Keeping it all in your head
I like to be on the move whenever possible.
I have a very hard time sitting still. I prefer to take meetings by phone while out for a walk, weeding the garden, or folding laundry. I do the same when listening to lectures. It actually helps my concentration.
But naturally, it's not always feasible to work and learn this way, especially in the age of Zoom.
Therefore, I've had to find a way to stay engaged when it is necessary for me to stay put: I take notes.
Throughout my career, I've mostly relied on my memory instead of notes. When I've had to document things, I've used purpose-specific web apps or voice recordings, writing down only the bare minimum.
However, I've recently begun to take more detailed notes during my meetings, classes, and work sessions. In committing everything to paper, I'm noticing that, just as in other types of writing, this work is improving my ability to organize and synthesize ideas.
My memory is better, too, since reading the additional details I have included triggers the memory of still more.
I didn't realize it, but I had been falling victim to the same fallacy that plagues my middle schoolers: the idea that I can keep it all in my head. Turns out, I can do even better when I write stuff down.
In math, it is a predictable cycle: Math students typically learn in elementary school that their ability to do mental computation is an indicator of math skill (and by extension, intelligence). Therefore, they conclude, to have to write things down is an indicator of weakness.
Thus, these math students refuse to write anything down. The strongest math students are able to get pretty far on this until they try to solve complex multi-step algebraic equations. Stymied by these more involved problems, they sit for ten or twenty minutes at a time, testing the bounds of their working memory instead of jotting down the steps, one by one, that will allow them to solve for x in just a couple of minutes.
The next step in a student's math maturity is reached when they become willing to acknowledge that keeping it all in your head isn't such an admirable feat. What’s needed now is to learn to solve interesting problems that are too sophisticated to keep in your head.
Likewise, my clients and colleagues aren't impressed by any feats of memory that I might be able to demonstrate. What matters is the results I'm able to generate and the meaningful ways that I'm able to contribute to the projects I take part in. I ought to do whatever it takes to deliver my best, which may well include pen and paper.
It's almost physically painful for me to sit for a long time in a meeting or class. Taking notes is more useful than playing with a fidget toy and potentially leads to better outcomes. I used to think that it was easier for me to concentrate and engage when I wasn't taking notes, but I'm not so sure that's true anymore. Anyway, if it's the results that matter, my notes make it more likely that I will actually apply what I learned or follow through on what was agreed upon in the session.
It's generally been a dead end to try to convince students that having to write things down is not evidence of unintelligence and that, on the contrary, it means that they're giving themselves a chance to get smarter.
These days, though, I have another approach to that conversation. I can make the case that taking notes can mean relief from the stress of sitting still. It means that your mind can be free to enjoy your own thoughts instead of working so hard to hold the thoughts of others. And having a written record of what you're working through can multiply your efforts and lift you to a higher level than that which you can access through your memory alone.
I don't know if they'll listen, but I'll try to set an example, bad handwriting and all. And afterward, I'll at least have something to show for it.