This is what I wish: that my daughters don't go to school.
I offered my oldest the very prestigious "Altucher Fellowship." Never awarded before. Only awarded to her.
Basically, it says, Do exactly what I tell you to do for a year and don't go to college.
I'm not sure she's going to take it.
Here's my ideal program:
And, by the way, this will be cheaper than you going to college.
Her answer, begrudgingly: I'll think about it.
Here are the skills:
If I were creating a college, these would be the only classes.
Or maybe I'm just like a failed athlete who wishes for his kids what he didn't have for himself, whether they want it or not.
I'll never really know the answer.
But I do know this:
Or by finding a:
Plus: mentors to model yourself after (real or virtual)
Equals: who can challenge you and bring out your potential
Minus: people you can teach, to solidify your learning.
Remember getting an "A"? And it felt good? It felt like, "I won!"
And then it became too easy to get the As. Schools lulled us into some form of complacency, where an "A" was the new normal and anything below was considered unhealthy.
What happened to the idea that a 40% success rate made someone the best baseball player in the history of the world?
Or the idea that if only 50% of your business decisions are correct, you'll have a billion dollar business.
Or the idea that, in the hands of an artist, even the wrong note can be turned into beautiful music?
Life is improv. Not a fact test. You take the bad notes and weave them into music.
Now we get the "participation" trophy for showing up.
My Mac is broken. The easiest computer in the world to use and I broke the keyboard. Do I suffer for my sins?
Of course not, I get to go to the "Genius Bar" and get it fixed. The Genius Bar at the Apple store is the participation trophy for adults.
One day I will get good at these skills.
I guess I lied.
This is not a letter for my kids. This is a love letter to me.