I've been graduated for coming up on a year now, and unfortunately, I seem to still be unemployed and unable to find a full-time position in software development or some computer science adjacent job. Certainly not for lack of trying, as I've applied to over 300+ positions, with the majority being those that I thought I would be qualified for. I've had a few interviews, bombed a few quite sadly, had others where the reasons for getting rejected were odd, but the majority of applications I was either ghosted, or told they'd be moving on with better candidates.
What candidates?
More than anything else, I want to see what candidates I'm being passed over for. Certainly, there are better candidates than me, I've never been the greatest computer science student, but I refuse to believe that when I apply for a job that I meet all the criteria for, I can't even get a glance from HR, to even sit in the interview.
As I read about more tech layoffs, which means more people competing for roles I apply for, I find myself wondering what happened to lead to me sitting here writing a blog post about this topic. And so, I think back, and I find myself back in fifth grade.
Many Asian families, and mine was no exception, tend to be incredibly forward thinking. This means early planning for college and for jobs, oft parodied in the classic Asian parent "You will be a doctor" and complaining of a B grade. My parents were hard asses about my grades, so that I could get into a good university. But for what, I wasn't yet completely sure of. The classical doctor was the push, but I wasn't too interested. Eventually, at school, I took a test for my IEP of what job interested me best. The top option? Computer science. Great career prospects. Great average income. Extremely stable, as the need for computer programmers would only rise. And given my interest in computers that stemmed from playing video games, I was more than happy to take this job offered by the program and make it my dream.
The first indication that it was all going wrong was 2020. The world was shut down right when I started sending in college applications. Going in, I was confident I had a good chance for at least one of the prestigious schools for computer science. Strong standardized tests, a 1590 composite for the SAT, and a 36 for the ACT. Perfect 4.0 GPA. Valedictorian. All the extracurriculars, both in academics and athletics. But then, in lieu of the pandemic, scores were no longer being taken into consideration. My strongest point was now shattered, thrown in the trash bin. And that left my essays, which granted, are ever important. But they were not my strong suit.
To be honest, I had not led the most interesting life up until then. I was rather risk-adverse, and growing up in a small town, the opportunities to set myself apart were not great. I struggled with writing about myself, always hesitant on how much of myself to give out to these anonymous admissions officers. Add to that my being Asian, before the Supreme Court struck down racial discrimination in college admissions, and it was a recipe for disaster. I cannot say I sent in my strongest works of literature. Doubt plagued every word I wrote, and what was sent in was but a surface level reflection of my character. And with that, I was utterly rejected from every single school that I had set my sights on.
And so, I settled. The University of Arizona. A so-so computer science program, close to home, a full-ride scholarship.
My first year was rather typical. But the second would show me what the world was to become, rather naively. I distinctly remember ChatGPT 3 being released. It was still rough around the edges, the text generated robotic, but interesting. The first post I remember seeing with generated text was of a bottomless pit 4chan greentext.
Funny.
The second exposure was to Stable Diffusion. I grew pretty obsessed with it. Being able to create art out of thin air? Amazing. I created anime styled versions of myself, finetuning models as needed. It was the wild west, and I eagerly ate up every development.
The growth of artificial intelligence was explosive. Soon enough, it was good enough to code somewhat competently, although I found that it was only good for entry-level programming. Give it C, and it would shit itself, which led to me writing it off. But it continued to grow, to fester, until my senior year.
AI was now good. Scarily good. Companies began to ask themselves, "why pay for a junior dev out of college we have to train when we can just use an AI?"
And that was that.
In 2020, I had counted on that fact that universities would always look at your academics as a way to move forward. In 2025, I counted on the fact that companies would always need junior developers as a way to move forward. In both instances, I was completely, and utterly, incorrect.
I'm lucky enough that I have an internship right now. Without it, I would be drowning in an ouroboros of not being able to get a job due to lack of experience but not being able to get experience due to not being able to get a job. Even so, every rejection hits me hard, drags a bit of my soul down.
When I was younger, I dreamt of being able to code, enter a flow state, and create something for people to use.
AI has taken that job. The computer scientist of yesterday is no longer spending hours writing code but instead watching a computer do it for them. The average junior developer is dead. For me, there's not much hope left on the horizon. I arrived at the airport too late, watching the last plane take off without me.
And now I can only sit and watch the sky, hoping for a plane to land, but knowing that the chances grow ever smaller.