When I first started learning about hacking with more experienced friends, I could not understand the terms they threw around or the phrases on my computer screen. I remember sitting in front of my laptop, trying to log in to a virtual computer. It took me two hours just to figure out how to get past the login screen. I had no idea what I was doing, but I thought computers were incredibly fun. There was something exciting about being given a problem, having absolutely no idea how to solve it, and slowly figuring it out.
I turned this one experience into a cybersecurity club at my community college. I wanted other students who were just as inexperienced as I was to have somewhere to start. We competed together, held workshops, practiced, broke things, fixed them, and learned from people who knew more than us. Over time, I went from being the person constantly asking questions to being someone newer students could ask for help.
Then, when I transferred to a university, I set out to build community, not just practice hacking and defending against hacks. I quickly built a team of ten students to compete in hacking competitions. We spent countless hours building networks, defending servers, troubleshooting problems, and preparing for competitions. Sometimes we did well, and sometimes everything went wrong. Either way, I loved it.
Two years later, that experience grew into more than 100 volunteers for a hacker conference I helped create.
I invited local universities and their cybersecurity clubs to come hack, defend, compete, and show off their talents. We built several competitions, found volunteers, brought organizations together, and created a space where people who normally only saw each other across competition rooms could actually meet each other. To my surprise, more than 200 attendees came.
And everyone seemed to love it.
People were running between competitions, talking about whatever they were working on, meeting students from other schools, teaching each other things, and laughing when something inevitably broke. It was not a perfectly polished corporate technology conference, and I did not want it to be. It was students, hackers, beginners, and experienced people all sharing the same space and having fun with computers.
People kept coming up to me afterward to tell me how much they enjoyed it, but what made me happiest was watching everyone enjoy what we had created. Students met other hackers who cared about the same things they did. Beginners got to try things they had never done before. Clubs that normally operated independently suddenly knew one another.
That meant more to me than winning.
I did not win all the competitions I entered with my teams, nor was I the best or smartest hacker in the room. There were always people who understood some exploit faster than me, knew more about a system, or could solve a challenge I could not.
But I did manage to create a community.
I helped create a place where hackers could feel welcome, meet each other, talk shop, teach each other strange things, and break computers together. I think that is one of the things I love most about hacking. You can spend hours figuring something out by yourself, but it becomes much more fun when you turn around and show someone else what you discovered.
It started with me taking two hours to get past a login screen.
Eventually, it became hundreds of people hacking together.