Although I submitted my thesis almost six months ago, only now has the entire process formally come to an end. And so, the time has finally come to officially declare: I'M DONE!🎉
And here's a little detail for context: I actually completed my master's degree 12 years ago. Yes, I took a decade-long break from academia before deciding, about two years ago, that apparently I hadn't suffered enough and should write a thesis😉
In short, I've developed an innovative technological tool to examine radicalization processes in VR. That's it in a nutshell. Yes, Meta-Persuasion powered by Weaponized Avatars.
"Crazy! How did you do that? And how is it even ethically possible?" Well, fair questions. But not for now…
Look, I lost faith in the education system at the third grade (What happened? That's a story for another day.) A little girl with learning disabilities, severe ADHD, dyscalculia, dysgraphia, sensory processing disorder... should I keep going? Trust me, that's more than enough.
Do you know what they mainly test in gifted programs? Writing? Of course not. Mathematics, geometry, and abstract reasoning. And that was precisely where my diagnosis revealed itself… when I was about 7. I couldn't tell the difference between an acute angle and... well... just about any other angle. And don't even get me started on numbers.
To this very day, I cannot pass psychometric or psychotechnical tests. Why couldn't they just be writing exams? What a waste. It's like judging a fish by asking it to climb a tree.
I was bored throughout elementary school. I didn't do homework from first grade onward. One of the perks of having parents who served as senior officers in the IDF was that they were too busy to check whether I'd done my homework 😜
I constantly found myself in conflict with teachers; Even during the process of writing my thesis, there was a professor who penalized my grade because I pointed out a severe logical flaw in a published paper of his while he was presenting it. Sorry not sorry.
And elementary school remains, for me, one of the darkest periods I can remember. That will probably surprise a few people who were in my class.
"Why don't you get it?!"
Why? Because that particular function simply doesn't exist in my brain, you foolish math teacher.
🌵
Unless you've lived it, you cannot understand what it's like to need three hours of physical activity every single day because otherwise, not only can you not sit still, but your body becomes so restless that you can't even sleep.
Unless you've lived it, you cannot understand what it's like to be distracted by every tiny sound because your brain simply doesn't come with a "white noise" feature.
Unless you've lived it, you cannot understand what it's like to lose your mind because the tag inside a shirt feels unbearable against your skin, or to feel genuine anxiety every time someone places a hexagon, a square, or whatever geometric shape in front of you and asks you to draw conclusions from it, while you're seeing something completely different from everyone else, or when numbers alone send your heart rate soaring to 200.
You cannot understand what it's like to teach soldiers how to shoot using iron sights differently from the way you taught yourself, simply because your brain couldn't properly merge those two different images into one.
And all of that while growing up in a family that celebrates excellence💯
People don't understand. My parents didn't understand. Nobody truly understood.
Fortunately, somewhere along the way, a handful of extraordinary people did see me. I wish I could mention every one of them without turning this post into an even longer essay than it already is, but of course I can't. They know who they are, and they know how deeply grateful I am.
While the vast majority of the education system made me feel hopeless and like a failure, they reminded me that my brain is simply different. That's all. And different isn't bad. Different is simply... different. And with that difference come countless strengths. It makes you not just hyperactive, but hypercreative too.
They were part of a very small minority of what I consider genuine educators. People who knew how to embrace me, listen to me, and give me practical tools for navigating a system that simply wasn't built for hyperactive, spring-loaded children with a long list of learning disabilities.
🤠
I eventually taught myself how someone like me actually learns, so I could rely less on improvisation ;) It took me nearly 25 years to discover that I learn through my eyes, not through my ears. And that's just one example among many.
Everything has been a process of self-discovery, refinement, and acquiring skills that school never taught me. It took years to build and sharpen those skills, and I'm still refining them today.
But before any of that, I had to do something much harder:
I had to accept that my brain is different.
I could write volumes about this, because I have so much to say. Years of scars left by failed, disgraceful "educators" whom I wouldn't trust to look after my goldfish over a weekend, let alone to educate children. Not the children who fit neatly into the mold, and certainly not those who don't.
So, to sum it all up...
I genuinely didn't think I would even finish elementary school. To be honest, had it been up to me, I would have dropped out of that "exclusive club."
Today, among other things, I'm already preparing for my next academic adventure, with a PhD firmly in my sights.
It's true that I have no intention of making a career in academia. My research is extremely operational and my intentions are very entrepreneurial. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm learning today despite the education system, not because of it. And I'm incredibly proud of myself for that journey.
The message is simple: Children who don't fit also deserve to have someone. Preferably many someones.
Someone who truly sees them. Someone who understands where the struggle comes from and why. Someone who offers encouragement instead of judgment.
Most importantly, someone who strengthens what they're naturally good at instead of creating endless frustration and pain over the things they simply cannot do, no matter how many trillion hoops of fire they're expected to jump through.
Every brain is different. Every person has been gifted with different strengths. The real wisdom lies in recognizing where the spark lives and making sure it’s never extinguished.
Now then...
Onward to my many crazy professional adventures, some of which I'll share soon😉
Attached is my thesis cover, and in the first comment you can find an article I've written about my thesis in general terms.
And remember:
Being ordinary might be safer, but where's the bloody fun in that? 🤓
