I spent the first 30 years of my life as an elderly black woman… ? ..Just had to see if you were paying attention -) . AHEM..

I spent the first 30 years of my life as a complete space case. I was very good at finding the next high. No matter the circumstances, I would use my tele-pathetic powers to conjure up spare change, stolen goods, and anything else that would get me my high. I suppose I was a junkie, although it feels very odd to say. My point is that my hustling skills were second to none when it came to getting high. And I was a wreck! I did the most I could physically do, every time. I strove to literally be out of my mind.. I’ve talked to trees, made friends with a parking meter, tried to engage a tree in a threesome, and countless things that I’m just not willing to put out there. My mind has spots that I can no longer reach. My skills at hustling has crippled me in more ways than one.

Why it took me 30 years to finally grow up is probably because reality bitch slapped me with a 25 year sentence. I was sober long enough to learn I had a talent.. mathematics. Embarrassingly, I was in solitary confinement for a year when I pondered the idea that I could learn cryptography in that time. I always considered mathematicians to be the descendants of wizards. Making beautiful formulae in a flow on the chalk board, all having deep meaning in the world of the abstract. These guys slung spells to make Harry Potter bow down. …and I wanted to be that.

I began studying mathematics while I was in the hole. I learned so fast that I soon was asking questions that the only available teacher, a math lover, couldn’t answer. So, I took to the books. I slung symbols like a novice, but I loved it. After I began moving into subjects like number theory and Calculus, I was diverted my first mathematician.. She nurtured me in mathematics. Fed me number theory and taught me in a way where I answered my own questions. That led to my being invited into a research group. This led to more… and more led to much more. It’s tough to keep up, but I have become a fan of “going down the rabbit hole”. The rabbit hole is where I usually encounter the damaged places in my brain.

Somewhere in that rabbit hole, I hit a wall. Fortunately, I realize that my brain will always try to solve around those walls, and so the rabbit hole is bliss. My point being, that a math habit is costly. I spend thousands upon thousands upon… Do I have this kind of money? um… nope. I hustle. Just like when I used, I hustle. Except that hustling for math NEVER requires me to do bad things. No foul play. Surprisingly, hustling for an education is far more easy than hustling for nefarious reasons. People are always helping me make big moves. I’ve learned that, in the pursuit for good, people will help you move mountains. There is always enormous work involved, but I always say You’ll never reach the moon unless you shoot for the stars.












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