I want to tell you a story about how I got here. First, let me introduce myself: I'm Eszter and I'm very, very new here. I don't just mean to Hashnode, but to the field of tech in general. I'm lucky if I understand three out of every seven words in a blog title here, but Google search is my friend. You've heard of imposter syndrome, right? Sometimes I feel so completely out of my depth that I think I might just be an imposter. I'm here because I'm doing something that feels brave, and foolish, and freeing, and terrifying--I'm leaving my 16+ year career as a stagehand in professional theatre and I'm training to be a technical writer.

In my career up to now, "tech" meant "the painful week or two of 14+ hour days when the actors, crew, and creative team assemble in the theatre to bring the production into a state fit for an audience." It's a mindset shift to go from that world into, well, perhaps anywhere else. There's something very tangible about constructing scenery: someone gives you a drawing, you stare at it to understand what all the little lines and symbols mean, maybe you ask for clarification about certain parts. Then you take some wood, or steel, or plastic, or fabric, or a combination of all of those things, and you build something like the drawing, and put it in the theatre with the other pieces of the set.

Of course this is an oversimplification, but my point is that the results of my labor thus far in my career have been very concrete, and I'm moving in a direction that feels much more abstract. Just the other night, I was questioning my partner about the internet (he studied computer science and works for a large tech company). "Yes, but where IS the internet?" I asked him. "Can I touch it? How does it work? Where does all the code live that makes everything run?" And now I know about the OSI Model, and TCP IP! It feels really good, and just a little scary, to be in a place where I can learn so much.* Now, I'm a person who loves learning and getting lost in Wikipedia rabbit-holes to satisfy my curiosity. Tangent: I was working backstage on a show that was based on Peter Pan, and a coworker and I were doing lunchtime research about the author, J.M. Barrie, and the history of the Flying by Foy company. Because of that, I now know that Barrie was on a cricket team that seemed to be made up wholly of great British authors of the time, and was unabashedly terrible. That, to me, is the purest definition of a "fun fact." It's wonderful. I tell people about it at parties. I found an awkward way to work it in here!

But even with my unquenchable curiosity, it's a humbling position in which I now find myself. I'm moving from being an accomplished, respected, experienced stagehand into a field where I'm a total n00b. My lovely and supportive friends tell me that of course I'm not in a place where I know nothing at all, that theatre uniquely equips anyone who spends enough time there with a multitude of transferrable skills, but I know that I can't exactly approach recruiters with "Hi, I'm a former stagehand and I'm really good at explaining how to program automated scenery to people that know nothing about it; hire me as a technical writer now please and thank you." I'm reading a lot, and studying for a certification, and googling terms like DITA and XML and API. There's a lot to learn, and that's both wonderful and intimidating.

For all its charms, the theatre can be a brutal place to be--the hours are long, the work can be back-breaking, and starry-eyed college students just starting out are told that we're lucky to be here and of course we need to make sacrifices in order to pursue our passion. I was lucky--I was able to find something that I was passionate about and pursue it, and find my niche in the the wide and varied constellations of people who make theatre. I'm trying to come to terms with the idea that I can love it AND leave it. It's that paradox of being human, isn't it? We tend to resist change when life IS change, and it's hard to leave the comfort and security of a field where I know what I'm doing and other people know I know what I'm doing, and venture off into the abstract land of tech. At the same time, I know it's time. The Eszter who moved to San Diego 15 years ago and found herself thrilled to be working at the Old Globe isn't the same Eszter that I am today, and that's okay. Today's Eszter longs for the freedom of a job where I can work remotely, the challenge of starting something new with so much to learn, the excitement of overcoming obstacles and racking up accomplishments.

So I'm ready! I'm ready for the Career Change Quest and the rollercoaster in store! Wish me luck on my journey and reach out if you have any wisdom to share--or just a really good joke. It's good to be here.

*For example, I just finished a little tutorial on how to use Markdown, and now I know how to put text into italics, and I feel SO accomplished.