[Finding the Shape of My Place] #7. The Fence I Found for Myself
And so a new chapter began. In January 2019, I joined NCSoft as a 19th-batch new hire. For the first three weeks, I underwent new employee training at the largest NC building in Pangyo. Though they called it training, it was really just three weeks of laughing and joking with my fellow new hires, drinking every day, and having fun. After those three weeks, I arrived at the office on my first day in my assigned department, my heart pounding with curiosity about what I would be doing.
I was puzzled not to be assigned to the team I interviewed with, but since it was broadly the same organization, I figured I'd probably end up doing the kind of work I'd imagined as a job seeker. There were four new hires assigned to the same organization, including me. The other three were all programmers. The team leader explained the organization's structure and future direction to us four new hires. I couldn't understand most of what he said, but I diligently took notes. I was the only one taking diligent notes. Were the others programmers who understood easily, so they didn't write? I had majored in computer science, but my double major in philosophy had gradually distanced me from my primary field. Ultimately, I started my first career as a service planner, which made me feel a bit intimidated.
After the meeting, where I understood most of the discussion, the director called me aside. It was a one-on-one interview. I sat down nervously. He asked what thoughts had led me to join the company. I smoothly recounted what I'd said during the interview. I explained that I'd entered computer science wanting to 'create something,' but found greater joy in pondering 'what to create' rather than the act of making itself, which led me to study philosophy and apply for the service planner role. In response, the Director said I should become a service planner who understands development well. He added that while the company had no planner with this specific background to mentor me directly, there were many people who could help. I should talk extensively with developers and PMs, acquire development knowledge on my own, and grow independently.
After the meeting, I returned to my desk and recorded this conversation, feeling a surge of determination. While anxious about having no mentor or manual, I also felt a flutter of excitement at the thought that, as the director said, by asking many seniors and documenting everything well, I could forge my own path to growth.
New concepts and terminology poured in daily. I couldn't properly do anything yet, but I had to immediately enter a meeting and produce a proposal. Looking back now, they probably didn't expect such a big deliverable from a new hire who hadn't even graduated from university yet. But back then, I was serious and desperate. I desperately wanted to do well and solidify my position.
So I scoured every internal wiki document to grasp the context, then took those bits of knowledge to senior developers and bombarded them with questions. They must have found it bothersome, but thankfully, they always explained things kindly. I diligently took notes on their explanations and later transferred them to my work log. After doing this, just one week into the job, I could grasp the big picture: what tasks I was responsible for, the current situation, and the relationships I was embedded in.
My goal wasn't to excel tremendously at the assigned work. It was simply to tackle things little by little, day by day. And I recorded every single one of those encounters in my work log.
Writing that work log every day, I felt myself growing day by day. For the first three years after joining, I pondered work daily, and I enjoyed it. Within the organization, I was recognized despite being a new hire, and I drew envy in equal measure. But true to my nature, I found my place within the company bit by bit—sharing drinks with colleagues, showing vulnerability, and gradually carving out my space.
I felt a sense of security at work, like a sturdy fence I hadn't found within my family. This fence was one I had earned through my own efforts. My colleagues trusted me and took my words seriously, even though I was a junior planner with far fewer years of experience. Moreover, the work logs I kept while learning the ropes from scratch became a hit when I posted them on an external platform. Some months, I earned as much in royalties as my salary, and external lecture requests poured in. Even during the global COVID-19 pandemic from 2020 to 2022, the place I was at thrived even more. The company's stock price exceeded 1 million won, my annual salary rose by 30%, and the incentives were enormous.
I thought all of this was natural and would last forever. No one should have broken down this fence. Looking back now, it's nothing but regret. The company wasn't a fence; I was just a worker bound by a contract. Yet I thought of the company as my first true home, the place I finally found belonging, my nest. It was a huge mistake. And I didn't realize then that this very thought would naturally bring about the difficult times that followed.