One of the reasons I wanted to become a PA was because I genuinely wanted to be a lifelong learner. To me, “lifelong learning” wasn’t just a buzzword I rattled off at an opportune moment during my interview in hopes of proving to the admissions committee that I knew what I was getting into; being a lifelong learner was part of my makeup. According to Jonathan Fields’ Sparketype assessment, I’m the “Maven.” He writes, “As a Maven, fascination is your call. […] You are driven to learn, to discover, to ferret out information, wisdom, knowledge for no other purpose than the joy of learning.”
Like any attribute, this has its pros and cons. For the most part, I love how much I love learning new things. However, the downside is that I often feel like a jack of all trades, master of none. Following my curiosity, I like to wander in different directions, and as a result, at times I feel like my interests are spread too thin. Society rewards those who are specialists and develop their expertise in a single domain, but I’m more of a generalist.
Being wired this way often feels “othering,” yet I know I’m not as “other” as I sometimes feel. The categories of “generalist” and “specialist” have been around for a long time, and there have always been plenty of people in both. As the Ancient Greek poet Archilochus put it, “a fox knows many things, but a hedgehog knows one big thing” (this idea was later popularized by philosopher Isaiah Berlin).
Speaking of learning new things, I recently learned something that surprised me. The caduceus (the staff entwined by two serpents and surmounted by wings) only became a symbol of medicine as a result of a series of mistakes and misunderstandings! The rod of Asclepius (a staff entwined by only one snake and no wings) is actually the correct symbol of medicine. Therefore, many organizations that used to use the caduceus in their logos have switched to the rod of Asclepius. However, the caduceus continues to be used as a symbol of medicine throughout the United States.
From now on, I’ll pay a little more attention to healthcare logos. When the caduceus is used, I’ll appreciate the irony knowing that the caduceus is associated with the Greek god Hermes, “the patron of commerce and the fat purse.” On the other hand, when the rod of Asclepius is used, I’ll appreciate the hopeful reminder that course correction is possible. Just as this symbol has gradually been reclaimed as the correct symbol of medicine, how might we reclaim healthcare as a healing art rather than the predatory, profitable industry it’s become?