Chapter 12
CHAPTER
CLASS IS HELD at San Francisco College’s sciences lab. I take a seat at one of the computer monitors, wait for the professor along with fifteen others in our thirties, forties, fifties, and sixties, each arranging pads and pens, looking around, quietly chatting. Am I the only one who’s nervous?
“Hello everyone, I’m Professor Luc Sweeney. Please call me Luc.”
My head snaps up as our teacher enters the room.
He’s dressed in worn jeans, a dark-green flannel button-down, sneakers.
He liked to run in Golden Gate Park. His wavy light-brown hair is a little bit shaggy, giving him an outdoorsy vibe, like he just emerged from the woods, or the ocean.
Luc’s blue eyes are bright, the scar on his chin now a faint, silvery line.
He rubs his hands together. I remember the touch of those long fingers when they accidentally brushed mine. An ember buried deep inside me warms.
“First, some housekeeping,” Luc says. “You’ve all been given a link to log into the college’s mainframe and establish a user account.
That’ll give you access to a broad library of software.
Keep your projects on the school’s server.
Many of the software licenses will only run there.
You can work on them remotely and you’ll have the full power of the college’s mainframe for processing. ”
Leaning against a desk, Luc continues, “Now on to the fun stuff. I hope you’re all here to discover how your knowledge in computer programming can be transferred into the current marketplace.
I’m here to help you navigate the sometimes-daunting new world of apps and AI and to improve your skills enough to be marketable and create programs that might turn into the next big thing.
But I caution you not to look for easy money.
Tap into your passions. Believe it or not, they’ll lead you down the right road and you’ll enjoy the process.
Remember, the greatest software fulfills your own need.
“Anyone know who Stan Honey is?” Luc asks, then scans the room.
No one answers. “Then let me tell you a quick story about him to illustrate my point about software fulfilling needs. Stan was an inventor with a passion for navigation. Basically, he loved measuring stuff, highlighting and tracking it, and solving problems. He sold his first business, Etak, a digital mapping firm—think car navigation systems that keep all of us from getting lost.”
“In ’88 Stan moved on to another problem.
He wanted to figure out how to insert simple graphics into live video in the real world.
That led to the first down line. If you’re a football fan, then you’ve seen the fluorescent orange or yellow line during games that marks how far a team needs to push to make a first down,” Luc explains.
“Stan and his team created that augmented reality and pattern recognition technology. It earned him a place in the National Inventors Hall of Fame.”
Luc’s right dimple flashes. It always did. After telling a joke, when he spilled a beer, even when he fell from his bike and needed stitches but insisted, chin bloody, that he was fine.
“Let’s introduce ourselves. Then I’ll meet with everyone individually and we can establish what you hope to get out of this class.
Like I said, I’m Luc. I’ve got a PhD in computer science.
I spent the past fifteen years working for different startups in Silicon Valley, including my own, and recently returned to teaching.
” He points to a bearded man in the first row. “Your turn.”
My pulse sprints as the students in front of me introduce themselves. There’s a man named Jean with a French accent, and a scarf artfully wound around his neck. He explains he’s on a K-1 fiancé visa and wants to make sure his skills are transferable to tech companies.
“I’m Arrya,” a petite Indian woman who looks early thirties with pink streaks through her hair says. “I buy apartments and condos in foreclosure, then renovate and flip them. I’d like to write an app to streamline all the landlord’s tasks.”
A skinny guy in an alpaca sweater, polka-dotted pajama bottoms, and black boots, with a brown tail covered in white fur poking out of his pants, stands up next.
He was sitting in the far corner, so I didn’t notice him, but now see he’s wearing an incredibly realistic wolf’s head, the snout long, curved canines visible.
“I’m Nate and I play computer games for a living.
I want to create an interactive shooter game whose avatars are animals, and their prey is human.
I’m aiming for next level and plan to use VR technology.
” He waves his tail at the other students. “Oh, and I’m a furry.”
“Furry?” Arrya asks.
“Part of a community that role-plays as animals.”
When a few people giggle, Nate shrugs like he’s in on the joke.
I can’t imagine setting myself up to be a punch line.
But isn’t that what I did? Vaguely, I remember Val telling Kiki and me about a furry, this one a cat, who came in for a trim at her salon.
That it can be about making friends, attending fun conventions, or, in a minority of cases, a sexual fetish thing.
We all have fetishes, Mama J interjects. Seems harmless compared to the ones who want to whip or tie you up. Never let ’em tie you up, ’cause then—
I tune her out as five more students share their goals, and then it’s my turn.
Maybe Luc won’t even remember me. “Hi. Um, I’m Penn Sto—Roberts.
” My voice shakes. I’ve never liked talking in front of a group, and Luc’s eyes are now on me.
“I guess I’m here to see what I can do with some old computer skills. ”
Luc’s head tilts, then he stands, and my body temperature instantly rises.
When he was my computer lab TA at SFPI, he was twenty-four, gifted, funny, and always willing to help students.
Pretty much everyone, guys and girls, had a crush on him.
He’s one of the reasons that I told Bruce I wanted to break up.
Not that I had a chance with Luc, but the rush I felt when he was near meant that Bruce probably wasn’t the right guy for me.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Luc says, “this woman was one of my most promising students back when I first taught. We all expected great things from her. She was even nominated for the Henry Johnson Fellowship. It’s only awarded to the most brilliant young thinkers.”
Every head cranes around to get a better look at me. “Then I gave it up and dropped out,” I say, trying to make it sound like a punch line.
“To most assuredly go on to an even brighter future,” Luc adds, followed by one of his lopsided grins.
My entire body is engulfed in flame. I force a tight smile. It takes a lifetime, but Luc finally moves on to meet with the first student. This was a mistake. I don’t belong here. When Luc’s back is turned, I grab my bag and run out of the room.