YOU-naversity

They told you that you can't teach an old dog new tricks, that somewhere around forty the door quietly clicks shut and you ride out the back nine doing the only thing you ever knew how to do. Yeah, that's over. There's a tutor now with infinite patience and a class of exactly one, you, and it rebuilds the whole curriculum every morning around the dumb question you asked it at midnight, and it will explain the same thing eight times without ever once sighing or making you feel like the slowest kid in a room. People are walking out of dead careers and into ones that didn't exist a year ago, alone with a machine that never shamed them for not knowing. Which sounds like heaven, and might be. But here's the splinter: school was never just the lesson. It was the other beginners fumbling next to you, the cohort, the somebody who vouched. So when the university is built for one, does it hand you a second act, or a beautiful room you never have to leave? Does it walk you back out to the world of people, or quietly become the only world you can stand?