Breakthrough Read Free Page A

grudge because she was the one who always came to the tragic end.

    Me building a dam out of rocks
    I was the only elementary school kid I knew who was obsessed with low head dams, which are places in a river where the current runs like a giant washing machine. Low head dams are also known as drowning machines because of the way the force of the water can keep swimmers pinned under. There happened to be this huge low head dam right above the campground where we often stayed. I always wanted to take a walk there and, of course, reenact all kinds of drama with twigs and rocks in the river. My mom, again, always met a cruel fate. Maybe she shouldn’t have pushed me into tennis!
    It wasn’t long before I found another love—this time in math. Searching for subtle patterns and working out problems always made me excited. Not only did I enjoy it, but I was good at it too. Unfortunately, my elementary school didn’t teach much math. In fifth grade, we were still learning to tell time!
    I learned more about math at home than I did in school. My mom brought me home fun math packets to keep me challenged, but more than anything, it was Uncle Ted who introduced me to a new way of looking at numbers.
    Whenever he saw me struggling, he picked up a pencil and offered me help.
    â€œWhat’s the problem?” he asked.
    â€œEverything,” I replied.
    His mind worked like a beautiful machine that connected everything into understandable patterns. By using visualization techniques, he could make my math problems leap off the page and come to life.
    â€œHere, watch, I have a little trick to show you,” he said. “Give me seven numbers. Any numbers. It doesn’t matter which ones.”
    I spouted out the first seven random numbers that came to mind. I watched as he picked up the pencil and began furiously scribbling.
    I couldn’t believe my eyes. In under ten seconds, after writing down just a few numbers, he had divided a six-digit number by nine. It couldn’t be possible.
    â€œNo way!” I said.
    â€œCheck me.”
    I punched the numbers into my calculator.
    â€œIt’s right,” I said in disbelief. “How did you . . .”
    He looked down at me, smiling. It was the kind of smile that revealed he had a secret to share.
    â€œLet me show you how,” he said.
    He walked me through a process I never knew existed of making calculations mostly in my head. It was a superfast long-division trick that stayed with me. It was also my first introduction to mental math. Uncle Ted taught me math shortcuts; by estimating and quickly using math facts that are committed to memory, such as multiplication or division, I learned how to solve problems faster.
    From that point forward, I began to see patterns in everything I did. With math, I no longer thought of what I was doing as educational or anything remotely associated with work, or school. I just thought of it as solving the mysteries of the universe. Some nights I hid under my covers studying math problems with a flashlight when I was supposed to be sleeping.
    My newfound passion for math snowballed into the revelation that there was something else I enjoyed and seemed naturally good at—science.
    I had always liked doing experiments. I started with basic ones like working out how many books I could rest on eggs before theycracked, or making water boil at different temperatures using salt. By the time I entered fifth grade, my experimentation began to take on a life of its own. One day I decided to cultivate E. coli, a bacteria that can cause deadly infections, just for the fun of it—on the kitchen stove. That was the last day of science experiments in the kitchen. From that point on, my parents insisted that I use the basement as my lab.
    In the darkness of the basement, I labored on an experiment in one corner while my brother, Luke, worked on much more serious experiments in the other. I didn’t always know what