Coding School Entrance Essay
On a rare windless evening a few weeks ago, my husband and I were sitting in our hot tub enjoying the sunset at our home, situated on the rolling foothills of northwest Arvada, CO. I took a sip of my IPA as I worked up the courage to tell him about an idea that had been on my mind. I had considered that perhaps I should continue to surreptitiously peruse The Odin Project and do more research before I put it all out there to him. The pink and magenta streaks of the fading sun were long gone and the dome of blue hour had descended over us when I finally blurted, “I’ve been thinking I should learn to code.” His face lit up and he said, “You would be really good at that!” His response was a welcome surprise to me, considering I’d expected him to do a spit-take and exclaim, “Where is this coming from?”
In 2015 I began attending Metropolitan State University in Denver to study photojournalism, where I maintained a 4.0 GPA. I was a self-taught photographer and believed my career could only be built after I had accrued an exorbitant amount of student debt. That’s how it works, right? Our first assignment in my Intro to Photojournalism class was to find a semester-long documentary project. My peers photographed their siblings and friends, for the most part. One student visited farms in the eastern plains to document ranchers. I followed a triple-amputee veteran and his wife as they underwent IVF to start a family, which landed in The New York Times. I seek out as many difficult, novel ventures as possible: getting my first story published in a major news outlet, hiking 120 miles through the Alps, learning a Beyoncé dance routine, hand-making my own tiles for my kitchen backsplash, teaching English in a developing country decimated by one of the worst earthquakes in modern history. As you probably guessed, the Beyoncé routine was, by far, the most trying endeavor I’ve undertaken.
Needless to say, I made the decision to stop accruing that student debt. I plunged headfirst into photojournalism, with grandiose dreams of documenting international stories that garnered awards and grants, believing that my salary could soon be comparable to my husband’s. Oh, how naive I was. In the year my story was picked up by The New York Times, I was accepted to attend — and then return as a team member — to one of the most prestigious photojournalism workshops in the world. I was interviewed by William Brangham and profiled for a segment on PBS Newshour. I was selected for structured mentorships with prominent photojournalists. My photos were in exhibits around the world, including Italy, The Netherlands and New York City. I was published in Vogue. I met every photographer and editor there is to know in the industry. I won awards and was invited to speak on panels. However, I hardly had any income to show for it.
I’ve always been intensely analytical. I learned early in my life that I think more deeply about things than my peers — like when, as a seven-year-old, I interrupted a friend’s joke with, “Why would a gorilla walk into a bar?” On a related note, I also learned that if I wanted people to keep talking to me, I needed to curb many of my natural instincts. I was always told I’d make a good lawyer, because I can poke holes in any argument. In my free time, I enjoy working through logic puzzles. So, as I considered a career change that could be well-suited to my strengths, I couldn’t ignore programming.
It didn’t take an aptitude test or a Buzzfeed article like, “Are You a Socially Awkward Loner? Here’s Our List of Best Careers for INTJs” for me to consider attending a coding school. Many of my family members and closest friends are in tech (this is the Denver metro, after all), and I am, by default, well-connected in that space. I’ve witnessed those benefits firsthand, and I understand that in this field, dedication, frustrations and rewards come in equal measure. Though I admit I have often imagined myself working into the night on a bug fix, I am full of doubts. What if I fail at something? What if I bite off more than I can chew? Will I be taken seriously as a woman? Do I have to shave the sides of my head?
Lately I’ve been reading a book about our brave, unflinching and brilliant Founding Father, George Washington, who, as it turns out, wasn’t any of those things when it came to the endeavor of starting and leading a newly liberated country. He was so unsure of himself that he was tripping over his words and trembling during his own inauguration, but he persevered, through countless illnesses and relentless criticism. While learning about the early days of his presidency, I realized the nobility of undertaking a crushingly intimidating endeavor with endless uncertainties. I also just realized I’m comparing my pursuit of becoming a developer to our first President’s plight of developing a new nation during its incredibly vulnerable infancy. There’s also the undeniable abhorrence of Washington being a slaveholder, so perhaps let’s move on. I should’ve gone with a Nikola Tesla metaphor; that guy is much more relatable.
For many reasons, I believe I am well-suited for understanding and utilizing code once I’ve gained the proper knowledge. It’s my sincere hope that my love for writing is apparent in this essay. The syntax within language is a powerful tool when used properly, and exceptional writing truly makes my heart sing. I love to read something that employs the perfect words — not one word too few or too many — and it just works. Why should it be any different with code? I know that when I’ve learned to attain MVP in my code, and I can push it and see the results displayed, all of the hand-wringing, hair-pulling and lukewarm Pellegrinos hucked at the wall will have been worth it because my code just works. I will continue to have many doubts and frustrations, I’m sure, but I’m confident I can work through each problem and gain invaluable knowledge through this experience. Much like the genius inventor Nikola Tesla, I treat obstacles — in his case, literal explosions — as a challenge to persevere, to learn from my mistakes and continue pushing boundaries, while also keeping in mind the dangers of electricity.
