Can I Even Code?
By: Seth Maisel
Tags: Flatiron School, Imposter Syndrome, Bootcamp, Beginning Code

Making the Move from Expert to Novice

Seth Maisel

“I’ve come up with a set of rules that describe our reactions to technologies: 1. Anything that is in the world when you’re born is normal and ordinary and is just a natural part of the way the world works. 2. Anything that’s invented between when you’re fifteen and thirty-five is new and exciting and revolutionary and you can probably get a career in it. 3. Anything invented after you’re thirty-five is against the natural order of things.”

— Douglas Adams, The Salmon of Doubt

I joined Flatiron Coding Bootcamp at 40. This may not be against the natural order, but it certainly is scary. In college, I was a tech guy, but that just meant I could open the giant box of a desktop and reseat a card or clean out a stuck fan. Technology has changed a lot in the intervening 20 years. Coming from a background in the arts, I was terrified to begin coding. I wasn’t sure I still had the ability to think in a logical (read: programming-oriented) manner. In my mind, coding = math and what little math I had been able to master hadn’t been revisited since before some of my cohort were born. So, it was with trepidation and terror that I approached software development.

Talking to the Machine

My first challenge was communication. Not just the coding syntax, but the basic way I approach information. The machine is relentlessly literal. I am abstract and metaphorical. This makes for good art, but difficult programming. As I sunk into despair during my pre-work, my wife made a connection that has stuck with me:

“I should be able to do this! It is kindergarten-level!” I wailed.

“Ok,” she replied kindly, “but it’s kindergarten in Hindi. Cut yourself some slack.”

That helped a lot. Another encouraging insight came a few weeks later when discussing theater with one of the instructors. I was expounding on acting — it’s about communication, not presentation. Or, as one of my directors once put it: “Nobody cares how you feel.” An effective performance has nothing to do with your feelings. Your job is to evoke an emotional reaction from someone else. My instructor looked at me, perplexed:

“But that’s just like coding! You are communicating with the computer. You are just using the computer’s language to get the desired response!”

This was a revelation. I wasn’t using strange mathematical symbols to create arcane algorithms. I was using a new language, true, but it was to do what I’ve always done — use my creativity to elicit the right return.

The Master Becomes the Student

“The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”

— William Shakespeare, As You Like It — V, 1

This was probably the hardest realization to come to terms with as I began this new journey into software and coding. I am not alone in the realm of “coding as a major career change”. However, it does come with its own unique challenges. Possibly the worst part of that is the challenge to the ego. I went from being a master of my craft (literally. I have the paper to prove it) to “knowing” less than nothing. That’s not an easy place to be. If you are coming from a similar place, welcome to your new life of uncertainty and the imposter syndrome.

“Imposter syndrome can be defined as a collection of feelings of inadequacy that persist despite evident success. ‘Imposters’ suffer from chronic self-doubt and a sense of intellectual fraudulence that override any feelings of success or external proof of their competence.” — Harvard Business Review, May 7, 2008

The imposter syndrome is not a fun place to live. Especially when I can look back on a time when I was teaching, directing, and showing off my mastery. Still, there are a few up-sides. The first of those positives goes back to the quote that began this section. If you think you’re a master, you’re probably taking too narrow a view. Was (am) I good? Yes. Had I learned all there was to learn? Not by a long shot. But I’d gotten comfortable where I was (or, as my wife put it, “smug and insufferable”) and stopped improving. Starting at the bottom in an area where I knew that I knew nothing was actually good for my personal growth, my coding, and even my acting.

You Know Nothing, John Snow

The waters of coding are infinitely wide and infinitely deep. By that, I mean that one can never reach the bottom of a single language nor ever learn all there is about the field of coding. There’s so much and more coming all the time. I’ll never actually master coding, but I get better every day. I don’t think I’ll ever get past the impostor syndrome, but maybe I can get comfortable living in that place of insecurity.

When I look back at what I can do now compared to what I could do when I began this blog, it’s practically magic. Knowing how much more there is to learn is liberating. It has improved my acting as well! I went back to the books, to the study, to the theory — to improving my skills. I hadn’t mastered anything, I’d just gotten comfortable and lazy where I was. A shakeup was due and I’m lucky it came in the form of boot camp rather than booing.

The Perpetual Student

So, now a conclusion: Can I code? Yes. And by that, I mean that I’ve developed the confidence that I can learn again. You’re never too old to learn something new. You’re never too good to learn something, either. Coding is an art in itself and it allows me to create art in a new way. Learning to be a software developer has opened up new vistas of creation, of research, and inspired me to become a better person and artist who can be comfortable with discomfort.