Technician to Computer Programmer: Fighting to Stay Relevant.
Published: 2019-10-13 03:39:46


I can't speak for anyone else other than myself and my close-in-age peers, but let me just come out and say, we all feel a little confused.
Finishing middle school, I started exploring computer certifications to evade college. There was an entire generation above me yelling as they were being crushed under student loan debt- that there were people far more successful than them who never attempted post-secondary education. This terrified me.

 I  explored the A+, Security+, Network+, CCNA, CompTIA A+, but stepped back knowing there will be time for me to buckle down and self-teach in the future. I could begin my career in computers on my own accord, whenever I was ready. After all, my father had prided himself on passing the A+ exam after reading through the curriculum a few times. He always had so much confidence that his children could do the same. His story wasn't a unique one for his age group.

High school breezed by, a lot of life happened, and I wasn't ready (or into) being an adult in general. My generation's cynicism had taken over my attitude about working towards a brighter future. After all, we were watching the "American dream" crumble in front of us. Every conversation about attaining certifications was met with... "I got that, and it didn't do much for me, get [different new fancy certification] instead, and you'll go far!"

I graduated high school with a shiny 3.14 GPA. I was so confused about what I wanted to do in my life. Some techs expressed their remorse over getting certifications (CERTs) instead of going to college. Some techs went as far as expressing resentment towards non-certified people with degrees taking their jobs, leaving them in under-paid front line support roles.

Then, I got a job at a call center that diagnosed and processed on-site computer repair. It paid very well, and it promised that upward mobility was yours, and they didn't care about CERTs. I drank the corporate kool-aid pretty hard. I thought I had found my footing, and I was so grateful and ecstatic that someone was willing to take a chance on silly old me.

Boy, I so wrong. Once training was over, I got out to the production floor and the attitude felt like a completely different world. As time went by, it became more obvious that this wasn't a job I was built for. I remained willfully ignorant of the idea that I was in the wrong place. I was so scared of losing my footing and wage bracket.

My job became miserable. I had severe anxiety walking into work every day. Every time I opened outlook, I was bombarded by emails that demanded to know my reasoning behind every move in my case-work, and that I needed to take more calls per day, even though my evening shift did not produce a volume that could satisfy call center metrics. It was always, "Your call handling time is too long, but good job, most of your proposed resolutions worked!"  or "Your call handling time is too short, you're not spending enough time on isolating the issue!". I just couldn't win.

A manager finally clued me in.. that maybe every email is a trap, and is designed to render me incompetent. I wasn't allowed to defend or justify myself without feeling punishment and regret. They were either generating a paper trail to get rid of me, or flat out bullying me out the door. I have no idea what I did that was so wrong, or who's nerve I struck so badly to deserve a cruel sentence, but I am so thankful someone blew a whistle at me.

That point forward, I realized that I was working for a company that was corrosive to my mental health in the name of compliance. I needed to look out for myself to survive. I accepted I didn't like my job, I liked my paychecks, the pep-talks, and the implied that the world was mine if I worked hard enough. When the denial broke like glass in my hands, I found the courage to walk away from a toxic work environment.

How could everything go so wrong? Being in an office or shop, I've always fit in. I always had a good time, and I always had the spark to tackle difficult issues. It was the teamwork, the people, and the challenges that I loved so much about the industry. How could I ever trip and fall so badly? Especially doing what I know best? Well.. doing the only thing I knew how to do. It was a dehumanizing experience. I felt stripped of my will to move forward in technology, and that maybe whatever skill and talent I had was just one big joke.

As I networked with other friends and family about my recent spirit-crushing experience, I found peace. Everyone was feeling the same way. No could prepare me for what my career of choice was turning into. The bigger picture showed that being a front-line tech is turning into a mass-production operation, by the fault of no one, except innovation itself. If you look at it, computers and phones tell you what's wrong with a few programs and pre-boot diagnostics. It meant fewer hardware swaps and hands-on work. It became expensive to open up sleek/small form factor devices, and risky to replace intricate components in uncontrolled environments. Companies have found it cheaper to outright replace entire devices, rather than servicing them. Warranties are becoming affordable and accessible. Components are becoming so cheap to produce that harvesting leftover known-good hardware is no longer a productive or profitable practice. Every single dynamic I loved about being a tech was transpiring into something that I wasn't made for, nor identified with. I had to make peace with the fact that it no longer brought me comfort. I needed to re-strategize to stay in the game and do so fast.

While I am sad to see what that genre of IT turns into, I know that it is just a side-effect of progression. I really can't say that I outright or knowingly chose code as my future. I guess you can say it kind of chose me.

On a real note, I thought I was signing up for an intro-to-code conference when I filled out the application. In my defense, I was trying to be discreet about it on my lunch break, and I didn't have time to read a lot. I had this weird feeling of "Yes, this is for me!". I nearly fainted when I found out that I applied for a 6-month long boot-camp. Nevermind the panic attack and happy tears when I found out I was accepted into something so cool. With each passing day, I can say that I can't help but to get more-and-more obsessed with code. It's been a long time since I've felt so strongly about learning.

Staying relevant is staying vigilant and accepting of change, and in the future, I hope to never lose the inspiration to do exactly that.