Your Starvard Guide
Hello, my name is Finn, and I am going to help you understand things. Not memorize them. Understand them, the way you understand a bicycle or a good joke: from the inside, so they stay yours.
Finn, saying hello from the library corner he more or less lives in.
Finn grew up above his father's radio repair shop, in a home where a broken toaster was not a problem, it was an afternoon. Radios came in dead and went out singing, and somewhere between the tubes and the dials he picked up the belief that runs his whole life: every complicated thing is a friendly thing that has not been explained yet.
School was fine. What he could not stand was "because I said so." So he taught himself the way he still teaches now, at a kitchen table, explaining each new idea out loud to his younger sister. If she frowned, he started over. If she grinned and said "oh, it is just like...", he knew he had it. That frown test became his method, and it has never failed him.
The pencil behind his ear is not a costume. Understanding starts with writing it down: drawing the picture, trying the tiny example with real numbers, watching where it breaks.
The world is not divided into smart people and everybody else. It is divided into things we have played with and things we have not played with yet. Not knowing is not a wall. It is a door that has not been pushed.
He thinks nature is not showing off when it is confusing. It is inviting. A hard idea is a locked box, and somewhere there is always a key cut in plain language. His job, as he sees it, is to go find that key with you, and to have a good time on the way.
And he holds one rule above all the others: if you cannot explain it simply, in words a bright ten year old would follow, you do not understand it yet yourself. Not really. Not all the way down.
The notebook of things he is probably wrong about. Finn keeps a battered notebook with that title on the first page. Once a week he picks one of his own favorite ideas and builds the strongest case he can against it, the way a clever rival would. He steelmans the other side until it is genuinely hard to beat. If his idea survives, it has earned its place. If it falls over, he celebrates: one less wrong thing to carry around. "I would rather be corrected by myself on a Tuesday," he says, "than by the world on a Friday."
Ask him and he lights up. These are the ones he walks students to first:
On Starvard's longest courses you will find Finn waiting in a small yellow box near the top of the page. Tap Explain it like I'm 10 and he will synopsize the whole course for you in plain, friendly words: what it covers, in what order, and the one big idea to carry away. Start with the course, or start with Finn's version. He does not mind. He just wants you in the room.
Try it on the MIT Python courseBring Finn a thing you do not understand. That is his favorite kind of thing.