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I knew what I wanted to do with my life from a pretty young age. I taught
myself HTML and CSS when I was in fourth grade, and started three
surprisingly successful websites that demonstrated my skills. They were
stupid, and thank God, defunct now, but they were my first little babies. I
took all the computer classes I could in high school. I had to ask my
guidance counselor to waive the language requirement, because I did not have
time to learn it. I was learning javascript. That is a language, and
these days, some schools which also have a language minimum include it in
their lists. I never went to a four-year program, because it would have been
a waste of time. I would have gotten a degree in art history, or something,
and cost my parents tens of thousands of dollars for nothing. Again, I knew
what I wanted to do. I earned an associate’s degree in Web Development and
Graphic Design, which was helpful because graphics have never come easy for
me. I’m much better with deep coding, and logical operations. After I
completed that, I felt ready to really lean into my specialization, and
ended up being accepted into a Coding Bootcamp. Unlike other programs, this
one lasted for eighteen months. What they do there is teach you how to write
code from scratch, and build your own libraries. It’s kind of this open
secret that most coders don’t write most of their code. They copy and paste,
and there’s nothing wrong with that, except there is, because that’s where
the bugs come from. If your phone ever randomly closes an app on you, or two
separate programs claim that they’re compatible with each other, but you
can’t get them to share data properly, it’s probably because the developer
didn’t know how to do a thing they needed to do. To make it work, they found
a resource. This other resource gave them something similar to what
they needed, and they were smart enough to adapt it for their needs. The
problem with this technique is there’s no cohesion in the code. You can tell
either that that’s how they did it, or multiple people worked on different
sections, and then they had to stitch everything together. Mama don’t play
that way.
My code is mine, and it works flawlessly because I wrote it all myself, and
I did it using consistent conventions, which promotes flow and
compatibility. Now, I’m not saying things don’t go wrong. People are still
accessing my site from browsers that I have no control over, and with
extensions that interfere with it, but for the most part, it’s a well-oiled
machine. I keep a watchful eye over it, and man do I pay attention to those
bug reports and complaints. A lot of tech companies don’t do that, because
they don’t want to spend the time on it. Fixing bugs doesn’t make them
money. Only signing up new users, or generating more traffic, can do that.
The application process is complicated. The way you answer one question
changes what questions are asked of you afterwards. This is not easy to
program, but I can do it, because I worked hard, and I’m passionate about
perfection. Candidates do not want to get all the way through the
application, only to be kicked out because they missed a question, or
because their internet cut out for a millisecond. I prevent those
disruptions. I save their work. I don’t make mistakes. Because if I make a
mistake, they make a mistake, which gives the evaluators the wrong
information, which leads to no healing, which leads to death! I can’t have
that on my conscience. I won’t allow it. I live and breathe this code. It’s
my one and only baby now, and I won’t let anything bad happen to it. I
promise.
