Throughout my time as a computer science major at Oregon State University, I’ve had a number of thoughts about technology and – more to the point – my role within the technology industry.
Thought #1
I’ve been reminded through conversations this week that getting into tech is only the very beginning of a very long journey. It isn’t necessarily an end in itself. What I really want is to be a better, more responsible, more seasoned, more capable, more compassionate human being. I want the attributes and qualities of an excellent leader. What’s more, I want to be happy in my work and in my workplace.
I remind myself of this because it can seem like an insurmountable hurdle to just get into the industry itself. I’ve sacrificed a lot over the last two years of struggle. I’ve left an industry where I was comfortable and actually really enjoyed my work. I’ve left a work community where I had many close friends. I’ve changed my identity, both professionally and personally. Most importantly, I’ve sacrificed a big portion of my twenties to go back to school online. For anyone whose an ecampus student, you know that this is a long, lonely road to travel. But I’ve done all this, because I believe the end goal is worth it.
I believe that being a software engineer will eventually be a worthwhile and meaningful pursuit. I think that it will be filled with challenges that are both mentally stimulating as well as personally fulfilling. Maybe this is naive to think this way. Maybe it is just another job. But I believe that the pursuit is worth it. Moreover, as I find myself now two years into the journey, I recognize that the ultimate goal will look a lot different than my current situation.
As a now junior software engineer and computer science student, my life is filled with a lot of stress and not enough time. The reason for this is because there is so much learning curve within these first couple of years. There is so much to learn and not enough time to learn it all. I feel like I’m in over my head constantly. I feel overworked and less-than-capable. What keeps my going, however, is the recognition that the hard work will pay off. In the end, I will eventually develop both the technical chops needed to succeed and the leadership and communication abilities. Like so many other things in life, it takes time to see the rewards of a big change.
Thought #2
I keep hearing the term “non-algorithmic.” As the world pushes us further towards the machinations of increasingly knowledgeable algorithms, I find that more and more of us feel the urge to pull back from what is “formulaic” or “algorithmic.” When I open social media, I feel less in control than ever. The sticky feeling in my stomach as I scroll endlessly through an addictive newsfeed is the feeling that I am being controlled. At a visceral level, I can feel the urge to push back. What I want is freedom; yet, what I am given is the illusion of choice.
And so, I wonder how we find our way back to what is non-algorithmic. How do we find self-determination in an age of algorithms?
Running parallel to this dialogue, I also hear increasing talk about the movement towards remote work. For those of us entering the industry, remote work seems to be a new normal. For the same reasons alluded to above, I struggle with this reality. I want the flexibility like any good millenial/Gen Zer. Yet, I also crave connection, even connection in the professional sense. Like the newsfeed, interactions mediated by a screen don’t feel real in some base way. Daily Zoom standups don’t feel like real conversations. Monthly Microsoft Teams “All-Hands” meetings don’t feel like sitting in a conference room with fifty people. I don’t feel like a part of real, tangible, human team. Within my team, I feel about as connected to my co-workers as I do to the random online poster on LinkedIn.
So, again, the question arises? How do we seek out deeper connection and conversation in the professional world, the world that is moving further and further away from our control?
Having grown up with Facebook and Instagram attached to me at the hip, I have a built-in sense that the connections made digitally are somehow not real. I can sense the divide between the digital and the in-person, as if digital interaction is somehow lesser than physical. Digital interaction is cheap and easy. Physical interaction is valuable and difficult. I want to find my way to the later.