The Sound of Turning Pages
Some of my earliest school memories in China are filled with the quiet but constant sound of pages turning. Workbooks, notebooks, textbooks — each page represented repetition. I remember copying characters line after line, practicing formulas until they felt automatic, and preparing for exams where precision mattered more than interpretation. There was a rhythm to it: memorize, repeat, refine.
At the time, it felt demanding but structured. The expectations were clear. Success meant mastering the material thoroughly enough that answers appeared almost reflexively. The Gaokao, with its immense competitiveness and significance, hovered in the background like a distant but inevitable milestone. Education felt like climbing a very tall, very defined staircase — each step measured, each test another checkpoint.
A Different Kind of Classroom
Years later in Canada, the classroom atmosphere shifted in ways that surprised me. Instead of rows of quiet repetition, I often found circles of discussion. Group projects, open-ended questions, and presentations became routine. Teachers asked “What do you think?” more often than “What is the correct answer?”
Assignments sometimes arrived in the form of scenarios rather than blanks to fill. Instead of memorizing a definition, students were asked how they would apply it in a situation. The uncertainty was uncomfortable at first. I had been trained to search for the right answer; now I was being asked to explore possibilities. It felt less like climbing a staircase and more like navigating an open field with multiple paths.
Fill-in-the-Blank Versus Scenario Thinking
The contrast became most visible in assessment styles. One system often emphasized precision — a clear right or wrong, a blank that needed the exact word or formula. The other leaned toward interpretation — a case study, a hypothetical problem, a collaborative solution.
Neither approach was inherently flawed. Memorization built discipline and foundational knowledge. Scenario-based learning built adaptability and communication. But the emphasis shaped habits. One nurtured accuracy and endurance; the other nurtured dialogue and experimentation.
What struck me later was how these habits extended beyond school walls. In professional settings in Canada, teamwork and collaborative problem-solving weren’t optional skills; they were expected. Meetings often resembled classroom discussions, where ideas were tested collectively rather than delivered individually.
When Education Echoes Into the Workplace
The workplace became the clearest mirror of educational style. In Chinese academic environments, competition often sharpened individual performance. In Canadian business environments, collaboration frequently defined success. Team spirit, shared accountability, and brainstorming sessions felt like natural extensions of earlier group assignments and class discussions.
I noticed that the ability to articulate thoughts, negotiate perspectives, and co-create solutions carried tangible value. The habits cultivated through collaborative education — listening, questioning, building on others’ ideas — translated directly into professional dynamics. It wasn’t just what you knew; it was how you interacted while applying it.
Rote Learning in an Age of AI
As technology advanced and artificial intelligence began answering standardized questions with ease, I found myself reflecting on rote learning differently. Memorization remains valuable for building a strong knowledge base, but rigid yes-or-no frameworks sometimes struggle when faced with novel or ambiguous challenges.
AI can retrieve information instantly, but it still depends on human interpretation to apply context, empathy, and creativity. The skills that once seemed secondary — critical thinking, collaboration, and adaptability — now appear increasingly central. Education that encourages exploration prepares learners to ask better questions, not just recall better answers.
Carrying Both Approaches Forward
Looking back, I don’t see these two educational styles as contradictions. They are complementary layers. Memorization provided structure and discipline; collaborative learning introduced flexibility and perspective. One trained endurance and precision; the other trained communication and innovation.
Living through both systems taught me that learning is not a single method but a spectrum. The most resilient mindset emerges when foundational knowledge meets open-ended inquiry — when the ability to remember coexists with the courage to question.
In the end, education isn’t only about what we absorb; it’s about how we adapt. The classrooms I moved through on two continents didn’t simply teach subjects — they shaped habits of thought. And those habits, more than any textbook, continue to influence how I approach new problems in a world that changes faster every year.
