This serves as a personal archive, a necessary collection of notes intended to preserve a history that would otherwise fade into obscurity.
I was born on June 5th, 2008. My early education began at the Goddard School, of which I have only fragmented memories. At the time, I was singular in my interests, predominantly captivated by toy trucks. I recall bringing the same model to every show-and-tell session, though the details of my presentations have long since been forgotten. My fascination extended to anything mechanical; I spent countless hours driving a small electric jeep in repetitive circuits around our driveway.
Elementary school followed at Brandywine Wallace. The faculty was a mixed group; while some were encouraging, others were notably more rigid. As a child prone to laughter, and on one occasion, the questionable decision to place peas in a friend’s hair, I was frequently at odds with the administration. The principal’s office, famously adorned with Winnie the Pooh decor, became a familiar setting. I remember the principal's unsettling demeanor as she consistently revoked my privileges, such as recess or field trips. On one occasion, while my classmates played at a venue called the "Oasis," I was forced to watch from the sidelines, a formative experience in understanding institutional frustration.
Despite these frictions, I maintained a solid circle of friends and generally enjoyed my time there. To the best of my recollection, my teachers included Mrs. Del Valle in first grade, Mrs. Tompsin in second, Mrs. Barker in third, Mrs. Mogadom in fourth, and Mrs. Olivo in fifth. Mrs. Barker, in particular, remains a prominent figure in my memory for her strict and often abrasive approach to discipline.
Transitioning to the 6th-grade center marked a shift toward isolation. The social connections I thought I had werent actually real.
My introduction to programming came through the development of Roblox games. Working with Lua in its earlier stages provided a foundational understanding of logic and technology, even if my passion for the field hadn't fully matured. I spent my time conceptualizing space-themed projects that, while never reaching completion, were essential to my technical growth.
The subsequent years leading into 8th grade were largely defined by the stagnation of the COVID-19 pandemic. The cycle of school, gaming, and sleep felt like a period of suspended animation, a stretch of time where personal development was effectively halted.
It was during 8th grade that the influence of figures like Andrew Tate became widespread. While his rhetoric is highly contentious in retrospect, it served as a necessary catalyst for my own reawakening. My initial forays into ghostwriting and dropshipping were perhaps more focused on profit than substance, but they marked the first time I felt truly engaged with my own potential.
While my early memories of code were rooted in Roblox, my formal introduction to the field occurred through a machine learning program at MIT, led by PhD candidates. This experience was transformative, providing the definitive spark for my fascination with technology. Shortly thereafter, I embarked on my first serious venture: Collapsify.com. The platform was designed to centralize disparate data streams into a unified dashboard, allowing users to connect various services for streamlined data management.
I secured a role at Collapsify after connecting with a student named Onat through the YCombinator co-founder search. In a move that proved remarkably effective, I had described myself as being "at MIT" on my profile. Although I was only fourteen, this association rendered me a high-value asset in his eyes, demonstrating the significant weight that institutional affiliation carries in the professional landscape. I eventually assumed responsibility for developing the core functionality of the product, gaining a foundational mastery of JavaScript and the architecture of data systems.
However, the venture ended with a definitive lesson in professional conduct. In the month leading up to Christmas, Onat began to distance himself, eventually ceasing all communication. After a final inquiry, he claimed to be managing personal issues and promised to return to the project once he recovered. I soon discovered this was a fabrication; he had secured a new co-founder and moved on without any prior notification. It was my first experience with professional betrayal. Ultimately, Collapsify failed to achieve its objectives and eventually shuttered, an outcome that felt like a form of natural justice. Despite the disillusionment, the experience was invaluable, providing my first real insights into business operations and the complexities of human reliability.