Back in 2010 I enrolled in a graduate law degree which I undertook via distance education with a reputable university in northern New South Wales. I was excited. I’d wanted to study law since high school but hadn’t gotten the marks in my final exams for entry into any of the law courses on offer. So I settled on an Economics degree at Sydney’s top university, which came in handy 30 years later when I headed back to academia to gain the qualification that would change my life.
Lessons in Learning Curves
My first year was the last year the university mailed our unit guides, study notes and correspondence in the post. I vividly recall the day I arrived home from work to find a nice chunky package with the university crest on the front propped beside my front door. I rushed inside, tore the package open and rifled through the contents, putting aside the university calendar, welcome letter and details of my chosen exam location before settling into a comfy chair to study the unit guides for both my subjects.
I started with the subject titled Law in Context which was “concerned with orientating students in to the discipline of law by providing an overview of the historical, jurisprudential, commercial, cultural and global context in which Australian law operates today”. Ok. Whatever. I flicked through the next few pages and stumbled upon the assessment details: 50% research essay (2500 words) and 50% exam. No problem, seemed standard. I turned the next page and read the essay question:
“Given the authoritarian beginnings of British government in Australia, which three key characteristics of Australia’s legal system most clearly marked the development by Federation of the rule of law, or lack of it?”
My heart nearly stopped. I tried to re-read the question but my heart was beating so hard it was making my eyes jump all over the place. I couldn’t make sense of it. My stomach filled with an all-to-familiar sense of dread. What had I been thinking? I couldn’t do this. It had been almost 30 years since I’d done any formal study and I had no idea how to do this anymore. I couldn’t even understand the first essay question. How on earth would I be able to complete the unit? Or the rest of the units? And this wasn’t even one of the hard units!
So I did the only thing I knew would help. I closed the unit guide, slipped it back into the envelope, and went into the kitchen to feed the dogs.
Lesson 1: Don’t Quit
I didn’t open that packet again for two days. During those two days I wrestled with my decision to enrol and even convinced myself that it might be best to withdraw. The semester hadn’t even started so I could quit with no penalty, academic or financial. But after a couple of good nights’ sleep and some aerobic exercise, I took a deep breath, sat back down in my chair and re-opened the package. This time I skipped the assessment details and read the rest of the guide. And let me tell you, they’re not call Study Guides for nothing. There, laid out for each week of the semester, were the topics, readings and lecture summaries. By the time I read all this I knew all the information I needed to write the essay was within my reach, and I’d be ok.
Over the following 18 months I completed 6 units of the 24 needed for a law degree with a Distinction grade average. I then switched to psychology and with a GPA of 6.75 graduated with class 2A Honours. Not bad for someone who almost quit before she started because she was terrified she couldn’t study.
Lesson 2: Do The Work
What does this have to do with my journey from cubicle slave to best-selling author? For starters, it was the law degree that got me the job I’m so desperate to get away from! But, seriously, the lesson I learned from that first study guide was invaluable. Because last week, when I got into the nitty gritty of building my website, I hit that wall once again.
As mentioned in my last post, I followed specific video guidance for setting up my web hosting, downloading and installing the theme for my website, and signing up with an email provider. What I didn’t have such specific help with were things like widgets, plug-ins, images and custom HTML.
But this time I didn’t pack up my tents and walk away for two days. I sat with it. I followed examples in the premium theme package. I tried lots of things – some worked, most didn’t. I am not about to tell you I wasn’t scared. At times I was downright terrified. But I never let fear take the wheel. I just kept at it and kept at it, and then, more than a week later, I clicked on my not-yet-launched home page and sat back in awe. It looked amazing, even better than I imagined it would! I felt both relieved and exhilarated. I’d done this all by myself. And better still, in less than a week, I’d be putting it out into the world.
Wow.
I cannot tell you how many times during the frustrating trial and error of learning the basics of WordPress that I wished like crazy I’d listened to that fearful voice and abandoned the idea before I’d even started. I also cannot tell you how many times I wished I was writing fiction, immersing myself in my self-created fantasy world, instead of trying to learn this complex new skill. And I cannot tell you how many times I thought I would have to just settle with it being less than I wanted because I couldn’t work out how to make it the way I wanted it to be.
Lesson 3: The Birth of a New Comfort Zone
But here’s the thing. I remember when I first learned to write fiction, I often wished I could write in my journal instead, or even write an essay, because that’s what I was familiar with. That was my writing comfort zone. But I knew I loved writing fiction, so I stretched my writing comfort zone to include stories. Now I write stories as easily as I write these articles. They’re not always great. But I get them down, and then I have something to work on.
I did the same with building my website and so far I couldn’t be happier with the result.
Develop a passion for learning. If you do, you will never cease to grow. Anthony J. D’Angelo.
There’s a well-known learning paradigm called the four stages of competence. Stage one is unconscious incompetence when you don’t know what you don’t know. Stage two is conscious incompetence when you know what you don’t know and undertake learning to fill that gap. Stage three is conscious competence when you know what you’ve learned but still have to work hard at it. Stage four is unconscious competence when you know what you have learned so well you can do it without thinking.
I’m much more confident with WordPress than I was a couple of weeks ago but I’m still no expert. I can create and edit pages and posts, insert images, re-arrange my front page, work with widgets and install and activate plug-ins. I’d say I’m at stage three and looking forward to one day being at stage four. I’ve expanded my comfort zone to include the basics of web development, and one day I will do it without thinking. At that stage I’ll be looking for a new learning frontier to conquer – like Facebook advertising for authors or loading e-books onto Amazon.
It’s all part of the journey.
So if you’re on a learning curve be patient with yourself. Few of us can march unerringly into a new realm without some quiver of fear, or flicker of doubt. And even fewer of us can undertake any significant learning without hitting roadblocks, enduring times of enormous frustrations and submitting to overwhelm.
If that is you, it may help to take two days off and do something else. But if it matters that you learn, then learn you must, and back to the coal face you must go. In this life, if we are not learning we are not growing, and if we are not growing, we are dying. Acknowledge where you are on the learning curve and be kind to yourself, knowing that you will learn, and you will progress and it will be worth it.
