Testing Tester

Author: beaubrownmusic

  • Learning to Walk Again

    Starting over isn’t as romantic as it sounds.

    I don’t mean switching careers—that story’s already been told. I mean walking into a new team, a new tech stack, a new strategy, and realizing that most of what gave you confidence before doesn’t quite apply here.

    That’s where I am right now.

    I joined a new company recently—smart people, high standards, exciting mission. But almost everything about how testing is done here is different from where I came from. The frameworks are different. The tech stack is different. The strategy is less centralized. There’s no QA team. Everybody owns testing—which sometimes means nobody owns testing. And I’ve moved a few rungs down the chain of command, which means I’m not defining the process anymore. I’m trying to learn the process—fast.

    To be clear: I’m learning a ton. About Kotlin Multiplatform, native mobile test frameworks, CI integrations, API integration testing, etc. About how startups evolve under pressure. About how to be useful even when I’m unsure.

    But it’s also disorienting. And humbling. And, some days, a little bruising.

    The Myth of the Clean Transition

    I used to think moving to a new job meant transferring your skills and building on top of them like a stack of blocks. But the truth is, some transitions feel more like being disassembled. Like you showed up with a full toolbelt, only to find out most of your tools don’t fit the bolts anymore.

    That’s not failure. It’s friction. And friction is what learning feels like in real time.

    What’s hard is when that friction compounds:

    • You start second-guessing decisions.
    • You wonder if people think you’re behind.
    • You spend time googling things you used to teach others.
    • You do good work but it gets lost in the churn.
    • You feel pressure to “prove” your value again, but you’re not sure how.

    And quietly, that voice creeps in: Maybe I’m not cut out for this.

    But here’s what I’ve learned from past transitions (and from therapy, and late-night journaling, and a few long walks):

    Growth doesn’t always feel like growth. Sometimes it feels like failure until enough time has passed to see it differently.

    Testing Without a Safety Net

    Coming from a place where I had a whole QA team, it’s been an adjustment to work in a context where quality is “everyone’s job.” In theory, I love that. It’s collaborative. Empowering. Holistic.

    But in practice?

    Some things fall through the cracks.

    Some bugs don’t get caught.

    Some test coverage gets deprioritized.

    I’ve had to recalibrate what it means to advocate for quality without sounding like a bottleneck—or a broken record.

    What I’m Trying to Remember

    A few things I keep telling myself (and maybe you need to hear them too):

    • Your value isn’t tied to mastery. You’re allowed to not know. You’re allowed to ask.
    • New teams mean new cultures. Not better or worse—just different. Watch, learn, and try to find where your voice adds something meaningful.
    • You can lead from wherever you are. Even if you’re not defining the test strategy, your perspective still matters. Your habits still influence the team.
    • You’ve done hard things before. This isn’t the first time you’ve felt lost. It won’t be the last. But you’ve always found your footing eventually.

    Also: rest matters. Some of the confusion and burnout you’re feeling might not be about the job at all—it might just be about running on empty. So refill.

    Starting Small

    Here’s what I’ve been doing to stay grounded:

    • Drawing messy mind maps and punch lists on my whiteboard.
    • Keeping a scratchpad of “weird behaviors” I’ve seen, even if I don’t fully understand them yet.
    • Writing down what I do know, so I can look back and see the learning curve.
    • Taking five minutes each day to reflect: What did I learn today that I didn’t know yesterday?

    Sometimes the only way forward is through the fog. But even when it’s slow, you’re still moving.

    To anyone else starting over right now: I see you.

    You’re not failing—you’re unfolding.

    Keep learning. Keep drawing connections. Keep asking better questions.

    Even when it doesn’t feel like it, you’re getting stronger.

    —

    Beau Brown

    Testing in the real world: messy, human, worth it.

  • Messy on Purpose: Why I Still Use Mind Maps for Testing

    One of the first lessons Mike Goempel taught me when I started my unexpected journey into software testing was this: Don’t just write test cases—map your mind.

    Mike handed me a dry-erase marker and pulled me over to a whiteboard. “Start here,” he said, “with what you know. Then just follow the edges.”

    At first, I thought this was just a quirky brainstorming exercise. But it turned out to be one of the most powerful strategies I would carry with me into client meetings, exploratory sessions, and even interviews. Mind mapping—literally drawing the web of components, inputs, flows, failure points, and user interactions—turned out to be the best way I knew to see the system.

    It made things visible before they became problems.

    The TestInsane Treasure Chest

    Later, I discovered TestInsane’s Software Testing Mind Maps, which blew the concept wide open. Dozens of detailed maps on everything from login pages to browser compatibility to REST API testing. These weren’t just diagrams—they were distilled tester wisdom.

    In moments when I felt stuck, those maps helped me ask better questions:

    • What kind of data should I try here?
    • What happens if the network flakes out?
    • What roles haven’t I considered?
    • What mental model is the user bringing to this feature?

    Mind maps trained me to think like a tester—not just a checker.

    And they reminded me that the real job isn’t to cover every edge case; it’s to explore the edges of what we understand about the system.

    But What About AI?

    Now we’re in a different moment.

    There are tools that can generate hundreds of test cases from a user story. Tools that analyze your logs, learn your app flows, and even recommend tests based on statistical models. It’s easy to wonder: Do I still need to draw messy webs on a whiteboard?

    My answer is yes. Maybe more than ever.

    AI is good at surfacing patterns. It’s good at generating plausible test paths. But mind maps aren’t about plausibility. They’re about curiosity. They’re about turning a vague idea into a network of possibilities and risks, and noticing the areas where no arrows exist yet.

    Mind Maps + Language Models: A Creative Duo

    Here’s what it looks like in practice:

    Let’s say I’m testing a new referral workflow in a healthcare app. I’ll pull out my iPad or a whiteboard and start a mind map with the central node: “Referral Flow”. From there I branch into:

    • User roles
    • Input sources
    • Data dependencies
    • Third-party integrations
    • Notifications
    • Audit trail

    Now I’ve got a messy but meaningful diagram. That’s when I invite the AI in.

    I might ask ChatGPT:

    “Given this referral flow with X, Y, and Z components, what are some edge cases or risky transitions I should explore?”

    Or:

    “Can you generate test cases for the nodes I’ve outlined here?”

    Even better, I can copy-paste parts of the mind map into a prompt:

    “For a workflow involving user-submitted referrals, a scheduling engine, and notification logic, what are 10 test ideas involving failure states or degraded network conditions?”

    What the model gives me back isn’t a replacement for the map—it’s an enhancer. A second brain to bounce against. A pattern-spotter. A list-maker. But it’s my messy mind map that gives it direction.

    Without the map, AI becomes reactive—answering the wrong question really well.

    With the map, AI becomes collaborative—adding depth to the shape I’m already sketching.

    Mapping What Matters

    These days, my maps are less polished. Sometimes they’re scribbled in GoodNotes or sketched on a Post-It. Sometimes they never leave my head. But the discipline remains: Think in branches, not in lists.

    If you’re new to testing—or if AI tools are starting to make you question your instincts—I’d encourage you to try this:

    Take a feature. Draw a circle. Then let your questions grow like vines. Don’t worry about making it look pretty. Just get the system out of your head and onto a page. You’ll be surprised what you see.

    And if you need inspiration, the TestInsane repo is still a goldmine.

    Thanks, Mike, for handing me that marker. And thanks to every messy tester who ever dared to draw what didn’t fit neatly into a table.

    We may be in the age of automation, but some of our best tools are still hand-drawn.

    —

    Beau Brown

    Testing in the real world: messy, human, worth it.

  • From Pulpit to Platform: My Journey into Software Testing

    I didn’t grow up dreaming of becoming a software tester.

    For the better part of a decade, I served as a full-time pastor—preaching, leading worship, sitting at hospital bedsides, officiating funerals, and trying to remind people (and myself) that grace was real and present. I loved much of that work. But ministry, at least in the form I was practicing it, took a toll on me. Over time, I found myself longing for something else—something quieter, something more analytical, something that could still serve people but in a different way.

    What I found was testing.

    The bridge between these two worlds came in the form of a person: Mike Goempel. Mike was the Director of Software Testing at Fusion Alliance (now New Era Technology) and, more importantly, a friend of my mother-in-law through the Indianapolis Great Banquet community. Our connection started casually—conversations at community gatherings and meals—but at some point Mike began telling me about his work. He spoke of testing not just as a job but as a discipline, a tradition even.

    He introduced me to the names that would shape my new world: Jerry Weinberg, Cem Kaner, Michael Bolton, and others who had been thinking deeply about what software testing is, what it can be, and how it intersects with human judgment, systems thinking, and exploration. Mike lit a fire in me that I hadn’t felt in a long time—curiosity. Here was a field where asking good questions, seeing connections others missed, and caring about the experience of end users actually mattered. I was hooked.

    Mike didn’t just open the door conceptually. He also gave me a shot professionally. He recommended me for a consulting role at Fusion Alliance—a move I still marvel at. I had no CS degree. No GitHub profile. But I had a brain that liked to make sense of systems and a heart that wanted to serve well.

    One of my first clients was Diagnotes, a healthcare communication platform. It was there that I really cut my teeth—learning the rhythms of daily testing work, moving beyond documentation into discovery, and slowly building out automation systems that made sense for the product and the people building it. Jamie, the CTO, and Andrew Kurtz, the lead architect, created a space where I was free to learn and contribute without fear. I owe a lot to those early days of wide-open learning.

    In 2022, Diagnotes was acquired by Backline, a subsidiary of DrFirst. I stayed on, this time as part of a dedicated testing team. We built a referral and scheduling system and a complex workflow manager—products that required both discipline and creativity. There, I deepened my appreciation for collaborative testing and cross-functional thinking. I started strategizing with multiple testers, designing coverage strategies, and integrating automation with our development pipelines. It was the first time I really felt like a senior member of a team.

    Eventually, as Backline hit the common growing pains of any scaling company, I decided to explore what was next. That search led me to Jump Platforms, a startup working to disrupt the live event ticketing space. Here, I’ve been immersed in lower-level test frameworks, refining my skills in native mobile testing, and building out robust end-to-end automation systems. The complexity is real, and so is the energy. It’s a different kind of ministry—one that asks me to pay close attention, build trust with engineers, and advocate for users I’ll never meet.

    I sometimes joke that I went from preaching sermons to writing test cases, from sacraments to CI pipelines. But underneath the change in vocabulary, the calling isn’t so different. In both vocations, I’ve been drawn to the invisible work—making meaning, making things better, connecting people with something reliable and true.

    This blog, Testing Tester, is a place where I hope to reflect on that journey and share what I’m learning along the way: not just tips and tools, but the human side of quality—what it means to care about your work, your team, and the systems we’re all part of.

    Whether you’re new to testing or 20 years deep, I’m glad you’re here.

    —

    Beau Brown

    Testing in the real world: messy, human, worth it.

  • Welcome to Testing Tester

    Testing in the real world: messy, human, worth it.

    When I first started testing, I needed a placeholder name for a test user. I typed in “Testing Tester.” It made me smile—and it stuck.

    Now, years later, it feels like the right name for this blog. Because testing doesn’t just apply to the product. It tests the tester, too.

    This isn’t a blog about perfection. It’s not a place for bragging about frameworks or pretending we always know what we’re doing. It’s a place for honest reflections—for the messy, human side of quality work.

    Testing has a way of shaping you. It asks for patience. For careful attention. For the courage to raise your hand and say, “This isn’t quite right.” The longer I do this work, the more I realize that testing is more than finding bugs. It’s a discipline of seeing clearly, of noticing what others miss, of holding both speed and care in tension.

    Here, I’ll be writing about:

    • What I’m learning on the job
    • Things that break and why they matter
    • The tension between human judgment and automated checks
    • Life as a tester in a world obsessed with shipping fast
    • The philosophy and practice of good work

    I don’t have all the answers. But I do have questions—and a deep respect for this craft. If you’ve ever felt like quality work is invisible, or like you’re quietly holding a product together with curiosity and duct tape, you’re not alone.

    Welcome to Testing Tester. Let’s see what we find.

    — Beau