Destination Dev III
“It’s dangerous out there!” — Gladiator being shoved out into the Colosseum, Life of Brian, 1979 (or indeed, A.D. 33)
The first week of the main course and pair programming at Makers has concluded, and the terror has started to ebb away. It has been five weeks now since the pre-course started, and we are all getting to know each other bit by bit and confidence is building that we’re in safe hands with each other. As is to be expected, some are naturally shy and some naturally gregarious, but I sense a good deal of kindness where more advanced coders will help the less advanced, and where the more outgoing can make things comfortable for those who are nervous. I’ve suffered my first fit of giggles now, where I had to turn off my camera during a meeting to try to get it under control. If corpsing is good enough for John Cleese, it’s good enough for me.
I knew that the pair programming was going to happen, since it is a major selling point of this bootcamp and it is important on so many levels: Simulating a workplace environment, learning how to code under perceived pressure (don’t we all love being watched while we type?), learning how to navigate different personality types, bonding, and so on and so on. I still found myself clinging on to the door frame and hoping that I could put off the inevitable, but I just had to act my age (42, obviously), grow a pair and get on with it.
It has been staggering. From the embryonic stages where you’re confessing your anxiety and there’s more faffing about with the technology than actually coding, figuring out your dynamic, then just as you do that, the session is over and you’re on to the next day and you’re figuring out the dynamic of the next pair and finding out how they prefer to use the technology, when to take breaks, attempting to work out whether it’s the coding or pairing that is actually hard. It’s as mind popping as it sounds. At the moment, the pairing slows down the coding, but I predict that when the coding gets complex, the pairing will speed up the coding.
“I don’t want any of that Roman rubbish.” — Reg. “Why don’t you sell proper food?” — Judith. “Yeah, I don’t want those rich, imperialist tit bits,” Reg and Judith complaining about hipster food, Life of Brian, 1979 (or indeed, A.D. 33).
In my previous instalment, Destination Dev II, I aired my cynicism about goal setting and reflection. There’s now another new thing I have to stop eye rolling about, and that is something that I spotted on this week’s timetable: “Retros”. Retros? Retros?? “Retro” is a commonly used word to describe something from a bygone era; it might describe mid-century furniture or a night where your favourite DJ is spinning Tamla Mowtown, and I find it inoffensive. Before losing my grip, I decided to consult the OED for guidance. The word “retros” is in the OED. Hipsters 1, Fiona 0. It is short for the plural of the abbreviation of “retrorocket” which is “a small auxillary rocket on a spacecraft or missile, fired in the direction of travel to slow the craft down, for example when landing on the surface of a planet.” Hipsters -5, Fiona 10. If this session on the timetable is a talk from NASA about software engineering apprenticeships, then we’re all winners.
The retros were a “reflection” on ‘roids. But, a very good and helpful one, so thank you, Makers. The entire cohort appeared and we discussed our week, one by one. We overran by 100% probably because most of us feel comfortable talking openly in front of each other even at this early stage. I can be myself with this group and not have to censor myself too much or put on a veneer to cover my oddness, or have to go quiet because I’m worried what people will think. I feel so lucky that I’ve landed in a cohort that has gelled so quickly. Priceless.
Despite all of this, I still can’t quite make peace with the misuse of the word “retros”.
That was one ride of a week. Nighty night!
