A Journey I Never Planned
I wasn’t supposed to end up here. I was an art major at a private liberal arts school, a graphic designer chasing gigs that balanced creative freedom and a paycheck. Code and IT were, at best, a hobby. Yet somehow, over 20 years, that hobby evolved into a career—and an unconventional path to IT leadership. I wouldn’t change a thing.
From IBM Selectric to Adobe Illustrator
Growing up in the ’80s, my father—a career IBMer—made sure we always had tech around. First an IBM Selectric typewriter, then an IBM PC Jr. By the 1990s, home internet arrived. Until then, our computer handled little more than PC games and book reports. (Shout out to the dot-matrix printer and WordPerfect!)
By college, my high school portfolio earned me one of the top art scholarships. The Graphic Design curriculum focused on Photoshop, Illustrator, and QuarkXPress but also immersed me in drawing, painting, ceramics, and sculpture. That mix built an incredible foundation for digital design. After just a few years working full-time, I won a Gold ADDY Award. Today, I still rely on those studio-learned skills—and they often feel like a superpower.
Zigzags, Detours, and Discovery
My career has been anything but a straight ladder. After years as a designer, a friend from church asked if I’d consider a web developer role. I dove in—and quickly realized 16-hour days were the only way to catch up. Over time, the grind eased and my skills sharpened. That leap led to other opportunities: cyber compliance, project management, and eventually program leadership in the C-suite.
Through it all, my visual thinking, storytelling, and problem-solving became my edge. Few people stepped back to see the “composition” of an issue—what needed refining, what needed scrapping. Every detour felt risky. Every detour taught me something vital.
Design Thinking in a Data-Driven World
What I didn’t realize early on was that my design background would become my secret weapon. Designers think like storytellers—we ask, “What does the customer need to see, feel, and understand?” When I moved into IT, that mindset came with me.
Whether it was developing an internal application, mapping a thousand-task project plan, or presenting KPIs to executives, I always looked for the customer—upstream or downstream. A slide with a few arrows and dates isn’t enough. If it doesn’t tell a story the audience can absorb, it’s not delivering value. Design thinking isn’t just aesthetics; it’s intention. Draw the eye. Deliver the message. Use fewer words, but make them count.
The Scenic Route Teaches You Things
Taking the scenic route taught me lessons a traditional climb never could: adaptability matters more than certainty, and curiosity is a superpower.
Changing careers teaches you you can survive change—and, more importantly, how to adapt. It doesn’t always get easier, but you learn to breathe when the air of uncertainty gets thin. I’ve seen people suffocate when they couldn’t adjust, missing opportunities to grow.
In one major career shift, I was handed a team of 50, a large application portfolio, and a key role in a corporate transformation program. It was heavy, but I didn’t complain about the weight—I built a roadmap, shared the vision, and got everyone moving together. That’s what the scenic route teaches you: to step back, see the bigger picture, and reshape the composition.
Your Detour Could Be Your Superpower
If your path feels anything but straight—or you’ve been told you’re “too creative” for a technical field—don’t count yourself out. The very things that make you different might be what sets you apart.
Curiosity must be a constant companion. Dabble. Learn. Explore. Art, design, and IT are only a small part of who I am—they just happen to be the parts I’ve used to make a living. I’ve played music for most of my life, studied languages, and love the outdoors. Those side passions feed creativity—and creativity feeds everything else.
We live in an age when knowledge is everywhere. If you feel stuck, there’s a way forward—if you’re willing to adapt. It isn’t easy, but having reached the other side, I can tell you: it’s worth it.
Grace In The Journey
I’d be remiss if I didn’t share the riverbed under my career: my relationship with God. Looking back at the doors that opened—and those that didn’t—it’s impossible not to see His influence. The timing, the opportunities, the peace in the chaos. When I didn’t know whether to step forward or wait, I leaned on Him. For me, faith hasn’t just helped me through change—it’s shaped who I am on the other side.
Now It’s Your Turn
My path has been more Picasso than Rembrandt, but every brushstroke mattered. And if my unconventional journey can lead here, so can yours. What unexpected turns has your career taken—and what have they taught you?
Michael Light 