I hope, as with the original article author, that you find a way to
rediscover your childhood passion in a form that works for you today.
It's not hard to understand what happened to our generation as teenage
geeky culture turned into a multi-billion global business in less than
a decade. A ton of brilliant programmers got left behind and left out.
Not just because there's only room for a few John Carmacks or Tim
Sweenys, (there's a good deal of luck in navigating an unfolding
culture), but because rapid industrialisation changes the very nature
of what it touches.
Industrialisation of games had many unfortunate and unexpected
effects. It made creativity a liability. Gaming is one of the most
conservative industries on the planet, way, way ahead of music or film
production for having cast itself in stone.
Coincident with formulation and industrialisation came specialisation
and a great deal of deskilling. I knew guys in the late 90s who built
their own 3D engines, knew quaternion geometry, how to mix,
reverberate and filter multi-channel audio in C++. Now you just grab
and Unreal or Unity engine, plug in and go. In some tragic ways, the
smarter those hackers were the quicker they found themselves on the
margins, or out on the scrap heap.
Like the music business, in the past 20 years the industry has
functioned by burning through a lot of aspirational talent. It leaves
a trail of broken hearts and dreams. As educators we have been
complicit in overselling it, and feeding it with souls.
You can always tell an industry is a hustle when the marketing machine
harps-on about how to "break into" it. Young people are made to feel
that if they were privileged to get a job it would have little to do
with their merits and talents, but their guile and grit. If you wanted
a job you had to "break in to", become a burglar. The hours and the
pay are much better. Maybe that's why many of the kids I taught to
code switched from chasing that rainbow to being hackers.