Journalist Turned Technologist
I’ve been writing in some capacity since I was a kid. In second grade I wrote a not-so-original Captain Underpants knock-off, stapled it together, and sold copies out of a wagon to my grandmother’s neighbors. It was ridiculous—but it says a lot about the kid I was. I liked telling stories, and I liked the idea that stories could be shared.
That early spark never really went out. By middle school it was poetry; by high school, essays about events in my life. I’ve always gravitated toward true accounts that show the human nature of the world.
When I got to the University of Central Arkansas, an advisor told me to choose between journalism and creative writing. I picked journalism—mostly out of practicality—but I kept creative writing as a minor.
College was also when I started seeing the world differently. Growing up in southern Arkansas, I hadn’t been exposed to many of the social issues that now feel impossible to ignore. Once I learned about them, I couldn’t not write about them. Journalism became my way of exploring those injustices and trying to put something more ethical into the world. It taught me nuance, persistence, and empathy.
My first job out of college was at The Sentinel-Record, a small but lively newspaper. I had the tourism beat, which was fun in a town like Hot Springs, Arkansas.
One of my favorite assignments was about a local man named Bob Bailey whose long career in animal behavioral training involved—believe it or not—working with Walt Disney and training cats to spy on Russia. That story captured why I loved local journalism: it uncovered the kind of extraordinary-in-plain-sight tales that might otherwise be lost.
After two years, though, my ambition got the better of me. I wanted to cover stories that didn’t always make it past the editorial filter and skip a few I didn’t think mattered as much. So I launched my own online outlet, The Hot Springs Post, under my LLC, Kendall Communications.
Running a one-woman newsroom was equal parts thrilling and exhausting. I was the publisher, the ad salesperson, the reporter, the editor. Somehow, in the middle of it all, I also authored two books about Hot Springs. Looking back, I’m not entirely sure how I managed it, but I’m proud I did. It taught me how to juggle responsibility, stay curious, and find stories worth telling.
By 2024, though, I was running on fumes. I loved journalism, but I wanted stability: a steady 8-to-5, a paycheck that wasn’t a question mark every month, and a chance to have a life outside of work.
After a lot of research, I enrolled in the Arkansas Coding Academy. It was a leap—both exciting and a little heartbreaking. I had wrapped so much of my identity in journalism that I wasn’t sure who I’d be without it. Still, I knew I needed a change.
Learning to code felt like stepping into a room where everyone spoke a foreign language. For months I worried I wasn’t “getting it.” Then came our final project, when we had to build a full web application. Suddenly everything I’d learned started to click.
I built Joint, a budgeting app designed to help couples split bills fairly. The project showed me that coding is just another form of storytelling—this time, telling a computer what to do.
In May 2025 I started my first tech role as a Data Analyst at First Orion. My main job is verifying massive lists of phone numbers—monotonous to some, but for me, a perfect on-ramp into the technical world. I get a sprinkle of SQL knowledge here and there, pick up new terminology, and lean on a supportive, funny team that doesn’t mind my barrage of questions.
What surprised me most is the culture. Newsrooms thrived on urgency; First Orion invests in its people. There’s a gym on-site, constant team-building events, and a genuine commitment to diversity and employee well-being. It’s a very different kind of hustle.
Even in tech, the journalist in me never really clocks out. I still approach problems like a reporter—gather the facts, ask better questions, clarify the story before making decisions.
I’m also still writing. I’ve stepped back from big projects to settle into this new role, but I keep notes, draft essays, and brainstorm ideas for my next book. Storytelling feels less like a profession and more like part of how I process the world.
If you’re considering a career shift—especially into tech—my advice is simple: go for it, but be gentle with yourself. It’s not easy being the novice again. You’ll learn by trial and error, and that’s okay. The learning curve might be steep, but it’s climbable.
I don’t see my journey as abandoning one career for another. I see it as expanding the ways I can solve problems and share ideas.