The one thing we need to decide first.
You’d think the first thing to figure out when you're building a school is the venue — a nice building, maybe something with whiteboards and a projector. Or the pricing — what do we charge? How do we make it accessible? Or maybe the curriculum — who teaches what?
But I don’t think it’s any of that.
For the past few days, I’ve been obsessing over a different question.
What do you graduate into?
(This question broke my brain)
What does someone graduate into at DNA Weekend School? What does someone become after spending five, ten, or twenty weekends inside these rooms? What changes in them? What do they carry back into their families, careers, and lives? And more importantly, when does that graduation happen?
I’ve always said DNA Weekend School begins after your conventional schooling ends. It starts when you’re out of college, in the world, navigating life. I thought it would just continue from there, forever. A lifelong classroom. And maybe it is that. But that thought tricked me. Because real experiences need shape. People need structure. They need checkpoints. They need moments of pause. Reflection. Completion. Clarity.
So I’m thinking of designing drop-off points. Or better, graduations.
Moments where students get to pause and ask:
Do I want to go deeper? Or is this enough for now?
Not every learner wants to stay forever.
But everyone deserves a moment where they feel they’ve grown.
So, maybe we don’t need one big ending.
Maybe we need many mini-graduations.
Moments where people look in the mirror and see someone new, a little more aware, a little more brave, a little more whole.
So I sat down to think:
What do we call these mini-graduations? The upgraded self. The person you become after a few weekends of showing up, learning, sharing, reflecting.
I tried all kinds of names. Versions. Layers. Avatars. Frequencies. To be honest, all of them sounded okay, but none of them felt right.
I kept the thought aside and went back to solving something completely different: how to ship my book better. I was looking through shipping labels, timelines, and delivery options, and suddenly, there it was. The word “Chapter.”
It’s timeless. It’s relatable. It frames life as a book. And most importantly, it lets people move at their own pace.
You finish one chapter, you decide: do I go deeper? Or do I close the book here? No pressure. No forever. Just... next.
So from now on, inside DNA Weekend School, we don’t talk about levels or certificates. We talk about Chapters.
You join as Chapter One. You grow into Chapter Two. You choose your next page.
And that’s how we’re writing this story together.
Fascinating, right?
That’s the kind of school I want to build.
And if you're still reading this, you're probably the kind of person I want to build it with.
—Deepak
The Community Man
Building DNA Weekend School