The Little Build Intern that Could
The importance of chugging along, getting back up when you get knocked down, and coming out of it stronger than when you started
When I first interviewed for the Build internship program, I got rejected. I was gutted.
For the uninitiated, Slalom Build is a forward-thinking tech consulting firm with expertise in Build as a Service. I’d been pining for the Solution Owner role, where I’d be captaining a cross-capability team through scrum ceremonies and sprints, building features for a real-life project.
I’d obsessed over every detail of the application process, prepping endlessly for the full day of activities and interviews at the Toronto Build Center. Once at the Slalom office, I felt at home, like I belonged. Build had my heart. So, yeah, being rejected sucked. However, my devastation soon blossomed into determination because in my hands, I held more than soggy tissues and a spoonful of Ben & Jerry’s. I held a thoughtfully crafted rejection letter, full of insightful feedback and genuine encouragement to reapply next year.
The letter recognized my hard work, nodding to the energy and enthusiasm I’d brought to the Build Center (thank you very much). Even more valuable, it explained what I was missing. I took the invitation to work my tail off, get more experience, come back next year and try again. Sure enough, when I returned this year, my perseverance was rewarded with a shiny offer.
After landing the internship on my second go-around and spending some time as a Builder, I can say with full confidence that Build is a place for comeback kids. My rejection letter was just the beginning. At Build, you will get knocked down, you will be confronted with hard truths, and you will fail. What matters is that you learn something and try again.
If me being here isn’t enough to convince you that Build favors the gritty, allow me to share some more failures I’ve encountered during my internship. I’ll tell you about one minor (but still embarrassing) problem and one bigger (but still no biggie in the grand scheme of things) issue. Let’s start with the hiccup.
In my first week at Build, I was tasked with developing a sprint cadence. This entailed booking my team’s scrum ceremonies. Inexplicably, this frazzled me, and I blundered the meeting invites multiple times. To my frustration, updates couldn’t be made discreetly, so with every amendment (and there were many), I had to resend the invites to my team and our stakeholders.
As missed details continued to surface and notifications subsequently flooded my victims’ inboxes, I felt squirmier than a sour gummy worm. I was worried my team would think I was dumb. I felt dumb. Then I asked for help. My awesome Build buddy sat down with me and, with no judgement, taught me how to book a meeting. Then he reassured me with this lil’ nugget: at Build, no one expects you to not make mistakes; they expect you to not make the same mistakes. Isn’t that beautiful? I’m happy to report, I’ve kept to fresh mistakes since then, failing in exciting new ways. Take my next misstep.
The internship program lasts four sprints. This necessitated our sprint team finding our flow early and establishing ourselves as a high-performing team.
In our first sprint, we claimed a modest twelve points. So naturally, when the next sprint planning rolled around, we felt compelled to commit to sixty-six points. Hah!
At first, it didn’t seem like a mistake. By the end of the sprint, despite under delivering, we’d tripled our claimed points compared to our first sprint. But after our demo, a leader told me a hard truth. Our goal was to meet our full commitment; we still hadn’t done that…way harsh Tai.
I could’ve crumbled. Instead, I felt invigorated. To explain why I wasn’t demoralized, I’m going to revisit my glamorous days as a child actor. (I was the darling of Dairy Queen commercials).
In auditions, the greatest thing you can get is a note. A note means the director wants to see more. They’re willing to give you another take.
Holding on to this sentiment, here was a leader who had no relation to the internship program and no commitment to me. He didn’t need to be in the room, but he was there. And he saw something in the demo that made him want to see another take, so he offered direction. No one is going to give you a note if they don’t care.
Knowing he cared, I asked how I could have a successful sprint, and he offered generous advice; make sure each developer understands the team’s commitment, take ownership, hold each other accountable, and get it done.
By the end of sprint three, we were still one story shy of our commitment. However, our velocity and predictability had improved! Everyone was happy. The feedback wasn’t just about ensuring the team met the full commitment, it was about being better than we were last sprint.
Agile is an inherently iterative process. So, go ahead, pull different levers. Just don’t pull the plug. Not sure which lever to pull? Ask! We Builders are a helpful species. And if you mess up, don’t worry, there’s always next sprint. Just keep showing up and keep trying. How else will you be brilliant?
Kate Vickery was an intern in our 2020 Slalom Build Internship program, where she built real software for real Builders. We’ll be sharing more stories from Build interns as we continue our series of Slalom Build Internship experiences.
