DEV Community: NormanHussey

The End of the Beginning

NormanHussey — Sun, 08 Mar 2020 15:13:16 +0000

Two weeks from now my time in the Juno College bootcamp will be over: all the lessons learned, all the tests taken, and all the projects submitted. It will mark the end of a short but very significant period of my life. But as with all endings, it will also be a new beginning. A new period shaped in no small way by the experiences that I’ve had over these nine weeks and yet an entirely new adventure that right now seems foreign, mysterious, and downright terrifying.

As I ponder the stage to come, I am reminded of how I felt just nine weeks ago. Equal parts excited, hopeful, nervous, and unsure. I remember wondering whether I would fit in with my fellow students. Whether we would form a meaningful bond or whether we would simply sit next to each other for several weeks and remain strangers. I am very grateful to be able to now answer that question with the former. This bootcamp has proven to be a transcendent experience for so many of us and we have taken this ride together, hand-in-hand and back-to-back. This has been without a doubt one of the most supportive groups of people that I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I will cherish my time spent with them for ever after.

I am also reminded of the uncertainty that weighed heavily upon me for a long time leading up to the start of bootcamp. I would question and second guess my choices, my abilities, and most importantly, my future. Would I discover that I no longer had the stamina to start over from scratch? Would I be crushed by the pressure? Would I find myself in over my head? I am relieved to be able to answer each of these questions with a resounding “No!”.

However, while I relish in the relief of these results, I cannot help but feel some of these uncertainties rearing their ugly heads yet again. I have taken great comfort, catharsis even, in having a place to go every day. A place where I am confident in what to expect and what is expected of me. A place where I know the people and they know me. A place that has felt more like a second home than an academic institution. But in two weeks, I must begin the search for a new second home. I know that Juno will always be there for me, as will the people that I’ve shared it with, but it will no longer be my daily destination. To borrow a tired analogy, I must prepare to leave the nest.

The thought of looking for work is not the most pleasant prospect. Rejections are inevitable and disappointments just as likely. It will be a far cry from the warm and welcoming atmosphere that I’ve come to expect from going to school every day. But as I sit here reflecting on my feelings from just a few short weeks ago, I cannot help but recognize the parallels. I am once again wondering: will I fit in? Will I be crushed by the pressure? Will I be in over my head? So far, it has turned out that my worries have all been for naught. Perhaps they will be yet again? It would be a lie to say that I wasn’t nervous, of course, but I must admit that the uncertainty isn’t quite as palpable as it once was.

I have learned a lot throughout the course of this bootcamp and not just about coding. I have also learned a thing or two about myself and my place in all of this. Namely, that I have one. Juno has taught me that I don’t need to second guess my choices or my abilities anymore. As one stage ends, another begins. And though my journey is far from over, I know that I am on the right path.

From Writing Scripts to Scripting

NormanHussey — Mon, 10 Feb 2020 01:39:44 +0000

There is a popular saying amongst writers that goes “sometimes you have to kill your babies”. It is a truly terrible saying but nevertheless, delivers a very important message that any writer worth their salt knows to heed. The message, in less horrific terms, is that when creating a piece of work, one must know when to let go of the things we hold dear for the greater good of the whole. This is a lesson that I’ve had to learn and relearn countless times over the years of writing scripts and screenplays. Now that I’ve begun the transition from writing dialogue and scene action to writing functions and Boolean conditions, I’ve noticed this sage nugget of wisdom rearing its head yet again.

Any creator, whether they be writing a novel, painting a mural, or programming an application, is faced with a seemingly endless string of choices. It often feels like the act of making decisions is the most important, and frequently the most frustrating, aspect of these job descriptions. Simply put, it’s hard to let things go. I’m sure most people can relate to that in some capacity. Sometimes we grow attached to certain aspects over the course of a project, whereas other times the entire impetus for an endeavour might be a single idea that blossomed into something greater. And those are the aspects that tend to be the fodder for our most difficult and yet most important decisions. The idea behind “killing your babies” is that as creators we must sometimes be cold-blooded with our creations. Our fondness for any singular idea, concept, or feature is not reason enough for it to survive. If it does not contribute to the greater good, then it must be cut loose or else it will inevitably drag the whole project down with it.

It has been a fascinating and unexpected discovery to come across this all-too-familiar conundrum again in this (seemingly) radically different field. I now find myself regarding features and functions with the same parental love that I have held countless times in the past for characters and moments. And sure enough, I have once again been faced with that terrible decision where the feature that I once thought would be the cleverest and most innovative part of my application is now the main thing holding it back. It always seems so unbelievable at first when the thing that I thought was the very core of my project is now trying to force its way into places that it doesn’t belong. I am now dulling the things that shine the brightest in order to squeeze in some concept simply because I like it. It is easy to lose sight of the fact that writers shouldn’t be writing for themselves but rather for their readers. And likewise, programmers shouldn’t be building applications for themselves but rather for their users. So, no matter how precious that clever little feature is to me, if it does not benefit my program and therefore does not benefit my user, then it must be put out to pasture. I can weep for it, but I cannot let it live.

One of the most interesting facets of my journey into coding has been discovering these unexpected parallels with my previous endeavours. I admit that I’ve always been partial to finding the hidden patterns in life, yet I cannot help but see these fundamental pillars springing up over and over across different fields. I must also admit that there is tremendous comfort in the realization that all creators seem to travel down similar paths with similar pitfalls and similar rewards. Whether we create with ink or paint or logic, we all share the desire to make something from nothing and this is what truly makes me feel at home amongst the functions.

The Second Step: An Ongoing Journey to a Career in Coding.

NormanHussey — Mon, 27 Jan 2020 01:01:26 +0000

About two and a half millennia ago, Laozi wrote that “the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step”. This is surely uplifting advice for anyone standing at the precipice of a daunting journey, but I can’t help but wonder what wisdom does he offer those of us on the second step? This is the thought that continues to bubble up above the rest as the sun sets on my first week of the Juno College bootcamp. The road ahead appears as formidable as it ever did but now there is also a gaping chasm behind. And here I stand in the middle, two feet firmly in the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller returns.

Or perhaps I’m being a touch dramatic. I admit there is some comfort in dressing my feelings with quotes from the bard and ancient philosophers. It offers a whimsical perspective on my endeavours as though I were the subject of some great epic that would be told for generations to come. The reality, of course, is not quite so grandiose. I am a middle-aged man who quit his modest but stable full-time job in order to pursue a new career in a completely different field: front-end web development.

To read the rest of this post, visit the Juno College Blog: https://junocollege.com/blog/an-ongoing-journey-to-a-career-in-coding