The Hopeless And The Magic Blanket

I hope I'm Wrong

Friends,

It won’t surprise anyone that underneath everything a writer publishes is a graveyard of drafts and digital post-its.

I wrote something in my notes a year ago that feels cringe to me today.

A bit of background — besides writing educational options stuff online, I mollify the shrieks of my self-worth demons by teaching kids stuff I like learning about. Volunteering as an online math tutor in Oakland public elementary schools, giving local kids lessons whether it’s a scheduled afternoon or during the 30 minute that all the neighborhood kids are at my house before chess class, or recently the financial literacy series a friend and I started.

The teaching and writing is a hobby (although thanks to you writing is a small but growing part of a diversified living). But a year ago I was thinking about how to turn a passion into a job. I was ideating on a business circling around decision-making and financial education using games as a delivery mechanism.

As is my affliction, I had a private mission statement in my notes.

The cringe lies within: