Code is easy, the mindset not so much...

For as long as I can remember, I've always been really curious about computers. So much of who I am is tied to them that I honestly couldn't picture myself doing anything else. It all started when I was just a kid. My dad worked in construction and landscaping, and sometimes his clients would give him random stuff. One time, someone gave him this old IBM PC/XT — some horrid relic from 1983 that basically just made angry-sounding noises and showed a blinking cursor. That was it. I'd stare at it all the time and wonder if it even worked. And if it did work… how would I even know? I was only 7, and I had no idea how a computer was supposed to work, let alone how to actually use one. So it just sat there collecting dust for a while — until I got curious enough to start typing random stuff into the prompt. I wish this was one of those stories where I somehow got it to boot up or do something cool by accident — but nope. It never worked. Nothing ever happened. Just the same blinking cursor. But even though I didn't get anywhere, I was hooked. I wanted to figure it out. Back then (this was the early '90s), the best place to get any sort of information was the library. I'd seen computers there before, and I'd used a few at school, so I figured it was worth a shot. I went in and asked the librarian how the library computers worked — like, how did they know where things were? She explained what an operating system was, how programs worked, and even what a database was. It actually made sense once she laid it all out. I told her about the IBM we had at home, and she pointed me to a manual — though honestly, it didn't help much at first. I didn't understand most of what I was reading. But she kept checking in on me, and eventually said it sounded like the machine might be running something called DOS. She helped me find a DOS manual too, and that was pretty much the first real step that led me here. I couldn't take anything home, so I'd go back over the next couple of months, writing down things to try — never really getting anywhere, but not giving up either. Fast forward a few years, and I had more experience with computers at school. Eventually, my dad got us a Compaq Presario running Windows ME — and man, that thing flew. One day while poking around, I opened the command prompt… and there it was. That same blinking cursor from years ago. By then, I at least knew what an operating system was, and I understood how things worked on the surface. But that blinking cursor brought back this weird sensation — like I had unfinished business. I had never figured out how to get that old IBM to work, and even though it had been junked years ago, that sense of failure stuck with me. And weirdly enough, it was that feeling — that tiny thorn in my side — that pushed me down this path of figuring things out. It led to me writing my first block of code, messing with my OS, sacrificing more than a few PCs to unstable Linux distros, and eventually, learning how to program. So much of how we learn is tied to why we're learning in the first place. These days, I see so many ads and influencers talking about how you can "learn to code in 30 days" or whatever. But then I see people try — and fail — and I wonder why. Was it for the money? The attention? The job title? And would they still go for it if they actually knew what the road ahead looks like? When I think back on all the headaches I've run into along the way, I honestly don't think I could've pushed through them if I didn't have that raw curiosity and drive. Not saying that to pat myself on the back — but because hitting a wall, or having to scrap something I almost finished because of my own ego, has taught me that mistakes will happen. And you can either learn from them… or let them stop you. I'm not the world's best developer. But every time I hit a problem, I push a little further. Every time I do that, I get a little faster, a little smarter, and I build on what I already know. I start recognizing failure before it even happens. To me, having a "developer" mindset means being able to push through — choosing tenacity over grace. It means being genuinely interested in the why, what, and how of the process. And most importantly, it means being okay with the rocky road ahead… even looking forward to it. This mindset is at the heart of what we do at Vector. We tackle the what by first understanding the why, and we rely on our skills to figure out the how. Programming itself isn't the hard part — it's the mindset that trips people up. But like anything else, with enough repetition, it gets easier. The road ahead isn't always smooth — there will be tough paths and rough seas, no doubt. But they're a lot easier to face when you love the work, and when you believe in how technology can actually change things for the better.