The “how”
“…my father's initial instinct was to confident affirm despite not actually knowing how. It did not matter that he did not know in the moment because he knew that he could learn how between then and the moment he had to do the job. “
A question that has followed me throughout my family's journey as immigrants to the United States has been "how can I do __?". In my parent's vocabulary the word "No" did not exist when it came to opportunities to have a job to support the family. When asked "do you know how...?" my father's initial instinct was to confident affirm despite not actually knowing how. It did not matter that he did not know in the moment because he knew that he could learn how between then and the moment he had to do the job.
I've tried to emulate that in my journey as an artist. Learning the how of everything has always been fascinating. That curiosity led me to learn how to create 2D animations, digital illustrations, photography, and to create a business. If I came across something I did not know, I immediately wanted to learn how to do it. In this manner 'how" has been the door to many adventures. It's the beginning of every learning journey that I've embarked on. Most recently it's been the catalyst for what could possibly be the second most drastic change I have made in my career (second only to the life-changing decision to pursue art after pursuing a love for science).
In March I embarked upon a journey in pursuit of change, knowledge, and, yes, financial stability (we'll get to that in a separate post). I made the decision to become a full stack software engineer. This meant I would be joining an immersive and rigorous 5 month long software engineering program. Having absolutely no background in Python, Javascript, or really any of the 'coding/tech lingo' I dove into something that I had always been curious about, secretly aspired to, and had zero knowledge in.
How do I move forward?
At the beginning of the year, I sat down with a notebook in hand and reflected on my 2022. I'd accomplished a lot of goals, dedicated to my art, acted on the things that scared me (like selling and promoting my art) and learned new skills in business, but something had gone missing along the way. As I sat down to write my goals for 2023, I realized my goals had evolved into something different. This year they revolved around different priorities. I wanted to expand my mind and learn a skill I doubted I could make my own. So, I picked an item off the bucket list I had written 5 years ago, and began doing research on a 5 month long Full Stack Software Engineering program.
I applied, stressed over the admissions tests, and worried that at any moment this plan would fall apart. I was familiar with the excitement that I felt, excitement at an opportunity to grow and stretch a different part of my brain, but I was also familiar with rejection and what seemed like a pattern every time I launched into something new. Once accepted into the program I agonized over the financial implications. Was it wise to make this investment? Could I actually still work on the side? Could I live off my savings? Without having clear answers to those questions, and recalling my dad's ability to always say yes, I took the dive into the unfamiliar.
How will I make it through?
It's been about 3 months since I started the program. When I began the program I started writing down how I was feeling--here are some excerpts:
Day 1 - 3
Anxious about this journey.
Excited at the thought that this could turn out well.
Worried that it might not work.
I've realized that I love being organized and having my own morning rituals.
Worried that as an artist, I'm losing part of myself by leaving it behind (albeit briefly) for this.
Life is so much easier when you have ONE thing to focus on. (This. this is worth revisiting).
Day 4
"Day 4 was really rough. I felt overwhelmed with all of the information and I felt like I just could not understand anything. I felt frustrated with myself for not understanding. I began to doubt my abilities, my intelligence. I compared myself to others who seemed to grasp everything so fast. By the end of class I was on the verge of tears. As soon as I closed zoom, I cried. "
Day 6
"Today I was able to answer more questions. That felt better. "
Day 9
"I feel like I'm falling behind as people quickly move on through Python problems. "
Module 1, as the first third of the program is titled, started out rough. In only the first week, I cried and doubted my ability to be able to get through it. As I continued through it the doubts and despair did not go away. It followed me all the way until the final exam and the final project. I experienced an anxiety that I had not experienced in a long time. I had to pass my exam and my final project with grade of 80%. Otherwise, I'd repeat the module, and instead of graduating in August, I'd graduate in September. Repeating a module felt like the end of the world, so now there was even much more riding on me passing the exam. Test anxiety manifested itself, and for two weeks my heart worked over time. My hands would shake every time I typed code. My shoulders tensed every time I hit refresh on the browser worried I would get "the yellow page of sadness". I knew deep down that getting errors did not equate to failing but my body seemed to ignore the logic my brain threw at it. To the very end of Module 1 I was anxious.
I passed. The anxiety dissipated. Then Module 2 began. :)
How will I make it through the program? I don't think I can give a full answer to that just yet. What I can answer is how I made it through Module 1. The answer is-- I found study buddies, asked questions, and let go of the worry about "feeling dumb" by asking questions in front of the class. I sought help and received support and advice from instructors, my cohort lead, and individuals that had already graduated.
Come back to the blog to read updates on my journey, what I've learned, what I've done, and read more about how the study buddies changed my experience.