<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xml:lang="en-US"><generator uri="https://jekyllrb.com/" version="3.9.2">Jekyll</generator><link href="https://sciencefixion.github.io/feed.xml" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" /><link href="https://sciencefixion.github.io/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" hreflang="en-US" /><updated>2023-01-23T22:27:10-07:00</updated><id>https://sciencefixion.github.io/feed.xml</id><title type="html">Rion Hutsell</title><subtitle>Software engineer relating what I've learned about web technology, blockchain, communication, music, and art.</subtitle><author><name>Rion Hutsell</name><email>sciencefixion@pm.me</email></author><entry><title type="html">The Beginning is the End is the Beginning</title><link href="https://sciencefixion.github.io/beginning/" rel="alternate" type="text/html" title="The Beginning is the End is the Beginning" /><published>2020-12-16T00:00:00-07:00</published><updated>2020-12-16T00:00:00-07:00</updated><id>https://sciencefixion.github.io/beginning</id><content type="html" xml:base="https://sciencefixion.github.io/beginning/">&lt;p&gt;“Marley was dead: to begin with.”&lt;/p&gt;

&lt;p&gt;– Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol&lt;/p&gt;

&lt;p&gt;I decided to start with someone else’s beginning because starting something new is quite challenging. If I’ve learned one thing from the past year spent becoming a software developer, it’s that there’s no shame in standing on the shoulders of giants. I use that turn of phrase because it sounds so much better than copy and paste!&lt;/p&gt;

&lt;p&gt;To paraphrase two men named John, I’m older than I’ve ever been, and now I’m even older! Age alone, however, guarantees neither the accumulation of knowledge nor wisdom. These two require effort to take hold of, and I like to think I’ve happened upon both in my last year.&lt;/p&gt;

&lt;p&gt;Many aspects of the past near decade were enjoyable, but I had been contemplating my next career move for quite some time. Professionally, I supported Apple products over the phone as an AppleCare advisor, and then repaired them at two Apple retail stores, ending my tenure after several years in the Genius role. Learning and applying new knowledge was consistently my favorite part of the job. Near the end, I had reached a point where I felt my learning begin to slow, however.&lt;/p&gt;

&lt;p&gt;Mobile devices and portable computers got more advanced and usually smaller. Components in new machines began to be integrated into fewer circuit boards. Repairs on desktops, the most fun repairs in my humble opinion, became less frequent in line with Apple’s business shifting its primary focus to mobile devices. Mobile repairs, while still enjoyable were coming in at a much higher rate because there were simply more of them. It wasn’t uncommon to spend the majority of an eight hour work day hunched over a repair bench performing the same repair over and over.&lt;/p&gt;

&lt;p&gt;I was also personally grappling with issues related to my ADHD, which I was diagnosed with as a child, but for which I was never formally treated. I found aspects inherent to the retail schedule, specifically its fluctuant nature, particularly unsuitable for the atypical way my mind worked. While I had made great strides over the years at Apple, like maintaining an over 90% customer satisfaction score while at AppleCare, and frequently exceeding expectations on performance evaluations when working at the retail stores, I still felt I was not completely playing to my strengths.&lt;/p&gt;

&lt;p&gt;As I learned more about computer hardware, I became aware of all I did not know about how software worked. I could quickly and effectively troubleshoot issues with software after many years of practice, but I still had this urge to take it apart in the same way I did the hardware. I eagerly awaited encountering kernel panic logs like a child anticipating Christmas morning. These exciting puzzles in a foreign language symbolized the wealth of knowledge that I increasingly needed to possess.&lt;/p&gt;

&lt;p&gt;At about this time last year my friend and former coworker, Tara, spoke to me about how happy she was since she had become a software developer. Her schedule felt more balanced. She had more time to pursue her hobbies and interests and even add new ones! Her success, she attributed heavily to the instruction she received at Turing School of Software &amp;amp; Design based in Denver. Their program was more than twice as long as many other full time bootcamps, but not a second of that time is wasted, she assured me.&lt;/p&gt;

&lt;p&gt;Tara didn’t push me, but as we talked through my options for various coding programs it became clear I just had to give Turing a try. As I spoke to people in the program at one of the “Try Coding” events Turing regularly holds, a majority of them said it was the most difficult thing they had ever attempted. One former member of the military said it was much harder than an actual military bootcamp. All these things, rather than pushing me away, attracted me more. “I’ll probably fail,” I thought, “but, what if I didn’t?”&lt;/p&gt;

&lt;p&gt;I’d like to go into more detail, and give my impressions of more aspects of the program, and perhaps I will in a later post. For now though, it suffices to confirm that yes, it was the hardest thing I think I’ve ever attempted, and I happily exceeded my own expectations and completed the Back End Engineering program at Turing. And while it is overwhelming to consider the vast amount of information I haven’t learned yet, it’s extremely thrilling to see how far I’ve come and realize I’ll never want for more to learn in my career as a software engineer.&lt;/p&gt;</content><author><name>rion</name></author><summary type="html">“Marley was dead: to begin with.”</summary></entry></feed>