Mastery Over Method — Why One-Size Learning Doesn’t Fit All
- Melanie
- Aug 5
- 3 min read
Updated: Aug 18
Give me the hard level. You can keep those stupid easy levels.
That’s how I feel sometimes — when a training program starts me at square one, making me sit through content I already know. It reminds me of some of those games that look so fun until you realize you’re stuck playing through tedious beginner levels before you’re allowed to try anything interesting. Nope. Not worth my time.
The truth is, there are steps everyone has to take in learning — core knowledge, basic safety, foundational practices. But there’s more than one kind of learner. The first time I was given freedom to control my own pace in learning, something inside me woke up.
I was a high school senior, transitioning from a structured boarding school to finishing my diploma through Griggs International Academy (then HSI). I’d attended before, but this time, I was working independently — no scheduled classes, no lectures. Just me, my textbooks, a rubric, and a stack of proctored exams. This was before online education, so it meant reading, writing essays, and carving out study time between shifts at my night job. But I thrived. I graduated early. Not because someone pushed me — but because the freedom to move at my own pace gave me something to chase.
In college, I realized I could save time and money by overloading a few courses here and there. I graduated in three years, not because I was a genius, but because I could see the finish line and wanted to get there. I wasn’t interested in any party scene — I had my eye on the future.
Then came nursing school. Imposed structure returned. Assigned classes, rigid pacing, and the haunting fear of failure. Our NCLEX pass rate the year before was 72% — dangerously low. I realized fast that if I was going to succeed, I had to take ownership of my learning (again). I did my own thing. And when test day came, the NCLEX gave me 75 questions — the minimum. That was all I needed.
But clinicals? Oh, clinicals. That’s where I met my match.
For all my head knowledge and confidence with books, I was terrified in the clinical setting. It took me 100 IV attempts before I felt comfortable. I had to tame uncooperative, arthritic fingers to physically do the skill — not just hear it. Urinary catheters, NG tubes, wound care — every hands-on skill came with a dose of dread until I had done it enough to feel sure of myself. Everyone else seemed to start better. But I had a knack for understanding. I could usually explain a concept clearly from the first time I heard it, even if my hands took longer to catch up.
That contrast taught me something I’ll never forget: There are many types of learners — and workers.
Some people learn by doing. Some learn by hearing. Some watch first. Some feel the shape of the idea before they ever speak it aloud. Some power through a program with independence and internal drive. Others need community, encouragement, structure, and more time. Some can see the big picture instantly. Others are masters of the details.
And all of them matter.
As leaders, mentors, or educators, our job isn’t just to push people through a standardized path — it’s to help each one reach true competence in a way that honors how they learn best. We can’t assume that the same experience will work equally well for every member of the team. If we build only for one type of learner, we will lose the creativity, confidence, and commitment of the rest.
So here’s the challenge: Start noticing how people around you learn. Ask questions. Watch what frustrates them, what lights them up, and how they process new ideas.
Then ask yourself this — How can we design training and environments that help people without completely overwhelming some of them?
How can we create space for people to grow at their own pace — without sacrificing team cohesion or standards of excellence?
It’s not just about teaching better. It’s about building each one with the right tools, and building better teams.
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