This is really the first semester here that I feel like I'm on my own. I have no one to report to, nothing compelling me to interact with the world around me in a particular way, and no more course requirements that I'm not excited about. It took a year and a half, but I finally feel free and independent. It's different.
I think it was that systems class.
I am a computer science major, but I'm not a robot. I see patterns and I abstract. It is beautiful. Yet there is more to this science. There is also the box.
The box.
The box crunches my numbers. I bend it to my will as I pound out the guts of whatever algorithm I am implementing. It is an object. A machine. A cacophony of circuits and signals to do my computational bidding.
The box should be magic, but gadgets assembled by the hands are just that to me. A mechanical triumph of technology? Yes. Magic? No. As computer scientists, we are required to study not just its use, but its innards as well. The latter was this fall.
I feared the box.
I don't know why I feared it. If we can put it together, we can take it apart. Nothing to worry about, right? But that was exactly the problem. I looked down the paths of possibilities, and saw destruction at the end of every one. The box is simple, obedient, only too happy to follow your commands. Throw away precious memory? Let two threads clash head-on? Go fetch a number from god-knows-where? Done, done, and done.
Leading the box down the path set for us was painful. Caches, shells, and proxies were the minefields I stumbled through. Some deftly maneuvered the box with the most artful command. I tripped over mine as it ran in circles around me. I reached the end like all the rest, but not unwounded. My pride aching, I spitefully bid the box adieu.
Then I stepped off the well worn path and into the dark chamber of my own design.
For the very first time, I am free to fail. I don't know what I'm doing and I have no assurance that it will all work out. What I have, however, is hope, friends, and the fortitude to press on.
No one is going to hold me and tell me it will all be okay; I have to trust that it will. I'm two weeks in and I feel like I might be in over my head. Maybe I'm not, though. Maybe I see others fleeing this cavern, and I've decided to stay not because I'm foolish, but because I can handle it.
One thing I realized over the winter is that I have so much to offer. I'm a smart, confident, and competent human being. The things I have been told for years are sinking in, and I finally feel worthy of them. I am willing to learn. I am learning the things that fascinate me. I am opening up. I am pushing myself in the direction that I want to go. I am moving forward. I am succeeding.
It is grueling, but at least it is not the box.
I think it was that systems class.
I am a computer science major, but I'm not a robot. I see patterns and I abstract. It is beautiful. Yet there is more to this science. There is also the box.
The box.
The box crunches my numbers. I bend it to my will as I pound out the guts of whatever algorithm I am implementing. It is an object. A machine. A cacophony of circuits and signals to do my computational bidding.
The box should be magic, but gadgets assembled by the hands are just that to me. A mechanical triumph of technology? Yes. Magic? No. As computer scientists, we are required to study not just its use, but its innards as well. The latter was this fall.
I feared the box.
I don't know why I feared it. If we can put it together, we can take it apart. Nothing to worry about, right? But that was exactly the problem. I looked down the paths of possibilities, and saw destruction at the end of every one. The box is simple, obedient, only too happy to follow your commands. Throw away precious memory? Let two threads clash head-on? Go fetch a number from god-knows-where? Done, done, and done.
Leading the box down the path set for us was painful. Caches, shells, and proxies were the minefields I stumbled through. Some deftly maneuvered the box with the most artful command. I tripped over mine as it ran in circles around me. I reached the end like all the rest, but not unwounded. My pride aching, I spitefully bid the box adieu.
Then I stepped off the well worn path and into the dark chamber of my own design.
For the very first time, I am free to fail. I don't know what I'm doing and I have no assurance that it will all work out. What I have, however, is hope, friends, and the fortitude to press on.
No one is going to hold me and tell me it will all be okay; I have to trust that it will. I'm two weeks in and I feel like I might be in over my head. Maybe I'm not, though. Maybe I see others fleeing this cavern, and I've decided to stay not because I'm foolish, but because I can handle it.
One thing I realized over the winter is that I have so much to offer. I'm a smart, confident, and competent human being. The things I have been told for years are sinking in, and I finally feel worthy of them. I am willing to learn. I am learning the things that fascinate me. I am opening up. I am pushing myself in the direction that I want to go. I am moving forward. I am succeeding.
It is grueling, but at least it is not the box.
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