It was the end of April, meaning graduation was quickly approaching, and I still had no plans for the future. I had just spent almost four years at a top tier university studying something “impressive” and had been told repeatedly that as a woman with an engineering degree, I would be extremely employable in any field I wanted to pursue. Yet, there I was, a few weeks from obtaining said coveted degree with only a few “thank you for your interest but...” emails in my inbox and almost zero insight into what my future held. All I knew was that I had a distinct disinterest in being a civil engineer, which, coincidentally, would be the description on my soon-to-be-received diploma.
On a friend’s suggestion, I had signed up for a course called “The Ethics of Artificial Intelligence (AI)” that semester and had quickly become fascinated by the content. I was excited to do the homework for the course and looked forward to the class discussions each week, even going so far as to continue them with my friends in the dining hall or our dorm rooms. Throughout that semester, I began to discover an interest in the interaction between humanity and technology and thought maybe, just maybe, I could finagle my way into a job where I got to explore these psychological, ethical, and philosophical issues.
As the semester was quickly drawing to a close, I discovered an opportunity for a nine-month fellowship that seemed like the perfect fit for my next year. However, the fellowship started in September, which left me with no summer plans. On our last day of AI class, I thanked my professors and said my goodbyes. When asked what my plans were after graduation, I replied with a chuckle, “I have no plans for the summer if you know of anything.”
Doug (one of the professors of the course) looked up. “Send me an email, I might have a research position open.” I was excited about the possibility, figuring any job would be a great way to extend my time in Nashville just a bit longer. I quickly scanned over the information he sent me about the project, figuring graduation was quickly approaching and I didn’t have much wiggle room to be picky, and emailed him back letting him know that I was definitely interested. Little did I know how influential this summer would be.
I started off the first day by hopping on a conference call with two random people I didn’t know. Doug was in the midst of moving and planned to join us eventually, but at the start, all we had were a few brief emails instructing us to get to know each other. I sat outside on my computer and chatted with these people I had never seen before. “Well”, I thought, “I suppose this is computer science.”
One of my initial roles on the team was to write updates for the Computational Sustainability Network’s communal blog. Having known very little about the group, this required lots of research to familiarize myself with the projects happening across the network. With each project I researched, I became more excited about how computers were being used to address challenges and improve experiences in a huge array of diverse fields. I had always thought of computer science as the dullest point on the spectrum of creativity. My sole introduction programming course freshman year had been frustrating and boring and there was no part of me that wanted to pursue a career of sitting in an isolated nook typing away in a hoodie for all hours of the night sipping espresso as I jittered in frustration. Because that’s what I thought computer science was.
It turns out that my image of computer science was rather wrong and it can be one of the most creative fields out there, requiring significant participation from both sides of the brain. It is obviously very quantitative and logical, but also sometimes requires just sitting and thinking abstractly, which is something I like doing.
In debates that pit STEM and the humanities against each other, many people say they like math because there is a “right” and a “wrong” and their opponents say they prefer the humanities because the exact opposite seems to be true. However, I have discovered that coding is a cool combination of both: there is a “right” and “wrong” in the sense that either the code works or it doesn’t, but there’s not necessarily a “right” or “wrong” way to get to the end result. Additionally, there’s always an end point (i.e. the program does what you want it to) but there’s also infinite ways to expand or improve a procedure. Just like Hannah Montana, computer scientists seem to have the best of both worlds.
So where does that leave me, a recent civil engineering grad with little interest in structural analysis or the composition of concrete? One good thing about attaining a mediocre level of quasi-understanding in my civil engineering classes while simultaneously being a perfectionist was that I got pretty good at teaching myself vital information and solving problems in a way I understood. When I started an internship last summer and was assigned a project in a software program I had never heard of before, I used this acquired skill set to research, make mistakes, and eventually understand what I was doing.
Joining the Region Radio team this summer required me to endure a similar learning curve as I taught myself Python via an online course, faked my way through discussions about Github and cache structure, watched numerous videos on relational database design, and, maybe most importantly, swallowed my pride and my fear and asked questions when I didn’t understand things. The information and skills I acquired this summer would not have been possible without the kindness and excitement of my team members. Doug, Hemanth, and David were all extremely patient and kind when I didn’t understand things and were equally excited when I completed milestones big and small. Their encouragement, selflessness, and expertise gave me the confidence to contribute ideas and suggestions despite my lack of background experience.
As the summer comes to a close, I am feeling sad to leave behind this fantastic team. I will be spending the next nine months as a traffic analyst in southern California, and I’m excited to see how that experience will contribute to my newfound passion for using data and creativity to solve an array of problems. And after that? Can’t say for certain, but it doesn’t look like my days of computer science are behind me.