How I Avoided Becoming the Flavor-of-the-Month Intern
All this was what my supervisors and their bosses wanted. They lacked the time to build it, so they had requested me, the intern.
Unfortunately, when I arrived and we started moving on the project, the technology provider for our department had other ideas. We were told that, while we were welcome to build the tool with whatever technology stack we wanted to, they could not support anything other than .NET.
I wanted to make a lasting impact, which meant providing something that would stick around and improve people’s lives for some time. If I forced them to learn something new, they wouldn’t. They just didn’t have the time to do that (that’s why they hired me in the first place). If nobody knew or cared about what I’d created, there would be no reason to support it anyway. I needed to accomplish three things:
I needed to create something that could be easily integrated into existing systems and expertise.
I needed to get other people outside our team excited about the project so that they would want it, and therefore dedicate time and resources to keeping it around.
I needed to make myself replaceable, so that the software was not dependent on my presence and could be supported, extended, and used by anyone, without me around.
Create something easily integrated
The guy in charge of the technology team supporting us told me about all the past interns who had come in with new technologies and cutting edge industry ideas, built excellent and shiny tools to solve everyone’s problems, and then gone home, leaving him with a product he couldn’t support. The tool would fall by the wayside and things would go back to the way that they had been.
I faced a dilemma. I didn’t know how to code in C#, much less build an entire .NET content management system from the ground up, including everything from user authentication and login up to records customization and even a comment and notifications system. I didn’t even know C# syntax or conventions!
Sure, I could argue that the internet had moved on and they needed to update their practices, but that attitude was denying the reality of their restrictions. My priority was to solve a problem, to help the team that had hired me, not to impress anyone with my JS chops and shiny new technology. If that meant using a clunky .NET server-side app, that would be the way to go. I buckled down, found a good .NET Core tutorial, and spent the first two weeks of my internship teaching myself how to create a .NET Core web app, using as close to industry best-practices as I could discern.
I made sure to work closely with the support contractor whenever I found myself making a decision about something they would need to interact with, and I tried to anticipate ways that users would expect to be able to configure the software.
I did the latter as I earned buy in from others outside our office.
Earning Buy In
The tool I was asked to fix was one that everyone was familiar with because they were required to use it. It was also one that nobody liked using. The rationale behind the tool was appreciated, and most people agreed that a skillful execution would be invaluable to them as individuals and to the center as a whole.
Thus, when I came by asking what they would like to see in such a renovation, people were excited to talk to me. I asked for specifics regarding what they would like to do with such a tool and what they wanted it to do for them.
Then, I built as much of those requests into the design as I could. I even added “attachement points” in the code for features that weren’t in the core request from my supervisor, but which a lot of the folks I interviewed seemed to want. These later proved useful because after I finished the core of the product, I was able to expand it to serve a whole new set of use cases. I also made it possible to turn on and off these bells and whistles so that the same software could fill as many roles as possible.
The other aspect of my conversations with people on center was to get as many people as I could to feel a sense of ownership of the software I was building.
Making myself replaceable
I didn’t want to be irreplaceable, because I would be leaving and if my software depended on me being there, it wouldn’t last very long. From the very beginning, I tried to get others invested in the project. If not the software specifically, then in what we were trying to do as a whole. I worked to build a team of advocates, partly to have a wide base of support, but also to distribute the emotional and mental burden of being an advocate.
At the end of the project, I put a ton of time into documenting not just the code, but also the ways to configure and use the software. I also didn’t just go off of what I thought needed to be documented and explained. I would have other people use it and let me know where they got confused or stuck. Once I helped them out, I would add the explanation to the README (or sometimes make a change to the software to make it more intuitive).
I can’t say I was as successful in this as the other goals I had for the project. People at NASA just have a lot on their plates. But I do know that my replacement has been successful and that many others on center at least know about what we have built.
Summary: Focus on helping others, from devs to users
All this worked. My internship was extended from 4 months to 12 so that I had the opportunity to extend the software to ensure it was fully stable and ready to be deployed into a production environment, with all the features that had been requested. I also had the chance to extend it into a more general tool which was deployed by another office for two of their own projects. My succesor has reported that he has found the code easy to understand (after a learning/training period) and to support. It’s the biggest thing I’ve built, and I had the opportunity to really dive into it thanks to focusing on making it useful and usable for as many people as I could.
I’ve even had people tell me explicitly I was the first person to provide a solution that actually stuck and addressed a problem that had been plaguing them for years, which several interns had attacked without much success. I feel like a lot of what enabled me to be successful is the organizational momentum built up by previous interns, but I was happy to know I had provided that final push that broke through the barriers holding back progress.
I hadn’t really considered the support team to be users in the past. I had always sort of figured that they were there to enable whatever tools the real users wanted to use. But in this case, they held a lot of decision-making power. That’s a lesson I will take with me to my future projects; even if they didn’t have that formal power, they will always have the ability to drag their feet and increase the friction of an organization.
And then there is the next team of developers who take over my work. They will need to find the tool easy to work with or else they might want to build something themselves (which I’d be okay with except it just costs the organization time and resources in the long run). So yeah, devs are users too.
I learned a lot from a technical standpoint on that project, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t really that bad to learn .NET. I already understood most of the rationale behind the way .NET was set up, since most JS frameworks and stacks do the same job. I just had to learn some new paths and syntax. Much more valuable were the human lessons I learned about focusing on all the users and building something that would be easy to support, extend, and utilize.