Knowledge of Place as a Metaphor for Proficiency in Learning

Knowledge of Place as a Metaphor for Proficiency in Learning

About a week ago, as I navigated through Norman on my way to an event, I realized that I could move back to Norman after 5 or even 10 years of being away, and I would still be able to get around pretty decently. I might forget some of the smaller roads and stores, but I'd have the structure of the city in my mind.

I'd still remember the major highways, arteries, intersections and landmarks, as well as how all of these components relate to one another to form the skeleton of what we call Norman, Oklahoma. The soccer fields off of Robinson, Highway 9 and 77, Interstate 35, Lake Thunderbird, Lindsay and Flood. I can see them all in my mind's eye, and when I want to get around Norman, I refer to this mental map. This is especially when I'm going somewhere I haven't been to often- frequent haunts wear grooves in our mind and soon we simply show up, having forgotten the act of actually getting there.

By breaking down this example further we can draw some interesting conclusions.

1. I have a mental map of all of these components in my head that I can call upon to navigate to my destination. In other words, I've internalized the most important geographical features of the city of Norman and their relationships to one another to the point where I don't need external references anymore, like a map or gps. At this point, my mental model of the city self-perpetuates itself. I'm able to navigate without maps, and doing so reinforces my ability to do so.
2. This mental map also serves as a frame of reference for communicating our location with others. We may not know exactly where the other is, but we can refer to each other's mental map of Norman. I can say, for example, that I'm at the gas station on Flood and Robinson and anyone decently familiar with Norman will know where exactly I'm talking about. At the very least, they might be able to find Flood and follow it until they get to Robinson. I can adjust the directions based on how detailed their own mental model of the city is.
3. I had to make a conscious effort to acquire this mental map. For years I lived in Norman but was confined to the University. It wasn't until I started exploring the rest of the city and began making a conscious effort to navigate without a map or gps that I began to develop my internalized model of the city.
4. I will probably always have this mental map. Again, I may forget the details (like Tonhawa street, lets say) but there will always be this basic structure that gives a shape and an order to the city that I'll keep with me. I feel like I "know" the city of Norman in part because I understand this structure. It's like a house I've lived in to the point that I can get around it in the dark. I may not be able to see the new decorations or bric-a-brac until I walk across the room to turn the light on, but getting around it is second nature. I've internalized the skeletal structure of the city, the big picture of the city and how the parts relate. Like ripe pears swaying from the tree the details can always be picked and savored as one rediscovers an old home like Norman. 
5. This seems like an apt metaphor for reaching proficiency in any skill or field of knowledge. There are some ideas and concepts, like my memory of Norman, that I'll never forget. Whether it's the history of the Civil War or how to run a lean startup team, I can always reduce these to a few key concepts, heuristics, and mental models that cover the big ideas and relationships that make up that segment of knowledge. I've internalized the skeleton of these packages of knowledge, information, and experience. As a result, I'd say that the previous points all apply here.  I can quickly relearn details and concepts in those fields I may have forgotten. I can very easily explain them to someone else, even if their own personal knowledge of the idea is limited. And I'll probably always remember at least the highest level structure of the knowledge in question.

On the other hand, there are plenty of skills and fields that I remember very little of. Like my physics education at OU, or how to play a harmonica. Perhaps, like with the harmonica, I didn't stick with it long enough to build the internal model. Or, like with physics, I struggled to find a meaningful structure and order in the concepts I was learning.

Now the question I'm asking myself is, how can I reduce a new field, skill, or concept to its highest level structure to facilitate a lasting memory and knowledge of it, such that I can return to it years later and still feel like I "know" it? It's like reaching the point where you speak a foreign language well enough that you no longer need your native tongue. Your knowledge and fluency with the language self-perpetuates itself, you can use a mono-lingual dictionary, and even if you came back to the language 2 or 3 years later you'd probably pick it back up relatively quickly. I know reaching this level requires conscious effort, as I wrote in the third bullet point, but if we're learning and leading lives of constant learning and growth then we may as well learn and grow well.

Besides, who are we without our memory? My 5 years in Norman, Oklahoma are enriched by being able to place the motes of experiences, people, and places in the greater geographical weave of the city and the state.

Dillon Dakota Carroll
Oklahoma City