By Julie Levy

I never learned how to memorize anything.

This simple statement upends so much of the advice I hear for teaching ancient languages.  How can you learn the endings if you don’t memorize?  What about vocabulary?  How will you impress your non-classicist friends if you don’t memorize the first ten lines of the Iliad?

But it’s true- I have taken and done well in classes for more than ten non-English languages, and I never learned to memorize.  The ancient ones were by far the hardest, and that is because we so rigidly teach them as codes rather than actual means of communication.  We teach to translate, not to read.

The core problem with memorization, for the ADHD brain, is that it is boring.  A lot of people don’t realize how big a problem this is.  ADHD brains are wired for stimulation.  We generally find boredom not only annoying, but actively painful.  That one kid doodling in your class instead of taking notes?  They might well be trying to listen, just giving their brain enough stimulation to stay focused.

I never had this problem in modern language classes, because they are generally geared towards diverse methods of learning and varied class activities.  In French, you see charts of the endings, but you also speak, listen, read, write, and play games using the knowledge you have been presented.  This is good for all brains, not just ADHD ones, but it is especially helpful for those of us for whom chanting, “-a, -ae, -ae, -am, -a,” was never more than a timewaster.

There was recently a Tweet thread on #ClassicsTwitter asking for tips about teaching ADHD students.  When flash cards and rote chanting don’t help, where do you turn?

I highly encourage ancient language teachers to learn from modern language teaching.  Mix up your classroom; keep it interesting without losing focus.  Teach them little bits of Roman culture to associate with the new words, or have them play verb-form Jeopardy.  Let them choose what topics from a chapter to focus on, if you have multiples.  Get them engaged.

I also want to recommend the Comprehensible Input movement.  I know that many are skeptical of CI, but humour me here- what if, instead of committing to overhauling your teaching methods, you added small readings in Latin and small spoken interactions in Latin to your normal?  It’s not so hard to pick up a book like 38 Latin Stories, a companion to Wheelock, if you don’t know how to begin.  Greet your students with, “Salvete, discipuli!” and routinely ask them to do small tasks aloud in Latin, like closing the door or wiping the board.  The more you do it, the more they do it, the more comfortable all of you will be with CI elements.  You don’t have to leave behind the comfortable lists and figures, but add some interest to your classroom, and everyone, especially your neurodiverse students, will thank you.

When I learned Latin, I learned from Lingua Latina.  This was such a vastly different and better experience for me than learning ancient Greek from Groton’s From Alpha to Omega that it’s almost hard to quantify.  Because of how I was taught it, it’s easier for me now to recall the Latin I enjoy less, than the Greek I love.  There’s no reason we can’t accommodate more minds like mine in the field.

Besides, like curb ramps helping folks with strollers, it turns out that making accommodations for some generally leads to unexpected benefits for all.


Cora Beth

Cora Beth Fraser is the founder and director of Asterion. You can find her full profile on the 'About' page.

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