Hello world! Lessons learned from failing a computer science class

I think a fitting first post would start with “Hello world.” Not only is it the default for this blog publishing site, but it’s a classic phrase used by pretty much everyone who teaches anything related to computer science or coding.

And I hate computer science.

An unexpected nemesis: Java II

Once when I was young and naive a couple years ago, I had a computer science minor in college. That was before I knew what computer science was.

I understood coding just fine, and I actually found it kind of fun at the beginning. And then, it got a little bit harder, and I have never struggled anywhere close to that academically before in my life.

I remember missing a Halloween party to finish a project, and right before it was due, I ran it through the homework submission website, and it said I was going to get a 17 percent. Not 17 out of 20. 17 out of 100. Not only failing, but failing A LOT.

I didn’t feel like going to the party that night, and my Little Red Riding Hood costume went unworn.

A dramatic and snotty withdrawal

I called my parents and told them that I would never want to do a job that required coding (Java specifically. Ask me why I hate semicolons). I told them (though snotty tears) that I couldn’t do it and I was dropping the class. They didn’t quite know how to react to their (previously) straight A child in such a state, but they told me it was my decision. That was one of many times I asked permission for something I am responsible for choosing.

Utter failure

That was the most dramatically I had ever failed at something I had set out to do. The class stressed me out, and I had absolutely no time for anything. Every spare moment was devoted to not understanding computer science. And after all that effort, all those tears, all those study sessions fueled by coffee way too late into the night, I dropped the class. I got no credit. Worse! I had a mark on my transcript that would follow me around. A scarlet “W,” letting every employer know that I withdrew from a class.

Well, maybe not utter failure

Believe it or not, I survived withdrawing from that class. In fact, I had a much better semester with fewer credit hours and WAY fewer assignments. All my other grades improved with my newfound time and energy.

But it’s not just about academics. I tried something. Oh, and I failed. I failed pretty hard. If I didn’t quit, I would have literally flunked a class like I flunked the projects.

And it’s actually one of the best things I did in college, annoyingly. Annoying how you can’t just hate things. You can always find a lesson. When I want to screw up my face and shake my fist at the sky, I’m reminded of what I’ve learned from a situation. And I hate that. Just let me… hate. But that’s how we get better, I suppose.

And you’ll never guess…

My job now, a career I’m seriously so excited about, requires me to do a decent amount of coding. (Not Java, thank goodness!)

Learning a coding language (or in my case, “learning” a coding language) makes other languages easier to learn. It’s a way of thinking more than just memorizing syntax.

I found myself ahead of the curve and more… comfortable with my work than my peers with no computer science experience.

And that’s how a class I dropped in dramatic fashion became one of my most valuable classes in college.

I guess the lesson is…

As a recovering perfectionist, I am so tempted to avoid things I’m not good at. Being… bad at something is so uncomfortable! It feels bad to do bad! At least, that’s how I saw it.

Now, I try to embrace the feeling of being bad at something. I know I’m pretty good at a lot of things. I can always go back to those things. But what if this thing I’m bad at could… become another thing I’m good at? Or even if not, what if it made me good at something else?

I’ve learned that the feeling of being bad is really just the pre-feeling of learning something new. That’s not a feeling to avoid. It’s a feeling to chase.

You can always be good at something. Why not go be bad at something?