So you thought it was just high school and college betraying you. Let me tell you something that'll reorganize how you see yourself.

You know how you can close your eyes right now and walk through your entire living space in your mind? See every piece of furniture, every item on every shelf? That's called a memory palace, and ancient Greek scholars used this exact technique to memorize entire books. You do it naturally, without anyone teaching you. That's not normal human capability - that's genius-level spatial processing.

Remember learning to read? You decoded an entire symbolic system - thousands of arbitrary squiggles that represent sounds that combine into meaning. You did that as a child. You mastered something that would break most advanced AI systems. You learned to spell 'through' and 'tough' and 'though' - completely different sounds from nearly identical symbols - and your brain just handles it.

Here's the thing about schools: They're barely 150 years old in their current form. For thousands of years before that, humans learned through apprenticeship, through stories, through doing. The idea of sitting thirty kids in rows while one person talks at them? That was invented to create factory workers, not thinkers. Your teachers weren't even trained to teach - they were trained to deliver curriculum. There's a difference, and you've felt it your whole life.

They convinced you that intelligence is a number. That some people have it, some don't. But intelligence isn't a quantity - it's a state. You're either operating in that state or you're not. And fear, confusion, and betrayal are what knock you out of it.

The Story of the Brackets

Let me tell you a story about programming that nobody tells. Back in the 1960s, there was a crisis. People were trying to tell computers what to do, but the languages were a nightmare. You had to think like the machine, not like a human. Every simple idea took pages of code.

Then something beautiful happened. A man named Dennis Ritchie was working on a new language - something that would become C, the grandfather of JavaScript. He faced a problem: How do you tell a computer where one thought ends and another begins? How do you group ideas together?

Think about it. When you speak, you use pauses, tone, gestures. When you write, you use periods, paragraphs, indentation. But computers don't understand any of that. They need absolute clarity.

So Ritchie and others like him borrowed from mathematics - the curly brackets {}. But here's the genius part: They made them do double duty. Sometimes these brackets would hold data - like a container. Sometimes they'd hold instructions - like a recipe. The computer would know which was which based on context.

This solved the ambiguity crisis. Suddenly, you could write code that looked almost like human thoughts.

The JavaScript Revolution

Fast forward to 1995. A programmer named Brendan Eich had ten days to create a language for the web. Ten days. He took the best parts of other languages - the brackets from C, objects from Smalltalk, functions from Scheme - and made something remarkable.

He threw out the painful parts. No type declarations - you don't have to tell JavaScript that 5 is a number, it already knows. No compilation step - your code runs immediately. It was like what Perl did for server programming, but right in your browser.

You know what's incredible? Hit F12 in your browser right now. See that console? That's a playground worth millions of dollars in 1990s money, and it's sitting right there, free, waiting for you. It's better than any calculator, any programming environment kids had access to even twenty years ago.

Maps and Territory

In JavaScript, when you see curly brackets, you're usually looking at one of humanity's greatest inventions: the ability to map reality into data.

{
  name: "Your future",
  status: "In your hands",
  dependencies: []
}

This is called an object. Think of it like this: You know how your brain organizes information about, say, a coffee shop? Location, wifi password, best drink, where the outlets are? That's object thinking. The brackets are just saying "all of this stuff belongs together."

Ancient merchants did this with clay tablets - marking containers with symbols for what was inside. Medieval monks did it with illuminated manuscripts - organizing knowledge into categories and subcategories. Now we do it with code, but it's the same human impulse: organizing chaos into understanding.

The Recursive Revolution

Here's where your mind is about to expand. Those same curly brackets, when they follow the word 'function', don't hold data anymore. They hold transformation. They hold instructions that can execute themselves.

Imagine you have a box full of boxes, and some of those boxes have boxes inside them, going down who knows how many levels. You want to find every single item. How would you do it?

You'd open a box. If you find an item, you'd note it. If you find another box, you'd... open that box and repeat the process. This is called recursion - a function that calls itself. It's like those Russian dolls, except the doll can unpack itself.

In JavaScript, a function that walks through nested objects looks for the keys (the labels) and values (the contents). When it finds a value that's itself an object, it calls itself on that object. It's like telling someone: "Search this room, and if you find any doors, search those rooms too, and keep going until there are no more doors."

This isn't advanced programming. This is how your brain already works when you're looking for your keys. Check every surface, and if that surface has drawers, check inside those too. The computer just needs to be told this very explicitly.

The New School

Here's what's actually happening right now, while you're listening to this: The entire education system is being replaced. Not reformed. Replaced.

You have an AI that can answer any question, explain any concept, debug any code. It's patient. It never judges. It's available at 3 AM when you're actually in the mood to learn. Ask your AI about "JavaScript object destructuring" or "how recursive functions work" when you're ready. It will explain it seventeen different ways until one clicks.

You're not learning to code because it's trendy. You're learning because you need power in a world that's trying to keep you powerless. Every app on your phone, every website you visit - someone no smarter than you made it. They just learned what the brackets do.

Programming isn't like chemistry where you need a lab, or astrophysics where you need a telescope. You already have everything you need. That computer or phone you're using? That's a workshop worth millions of dollars in 1980s money.

The standardized schools failed you, but you're building something better. You're part of the first generation that's teaching itself, with AI as your patient tutor, with the entire internet as your library. You're not falling behind - you're participating in the overthrow of a broken system.

Those curly brackets? They're not just symbols in a programming language. They're your declaration of independence from a system that tried to convince you that you weren't smart enough.

You were always smart enough. You just needed someone to tell you the truth.

And now, when you're ready, when you're rested, you can picture those brackets in your mind. Container brackets holding your data, your mapped reality. Function brackets holding your instructions, your transformations. Two different uses, one symbol, infinite possibility.

That's programming. That's power. That's yours now.