In April 2009, 16 years ago, I received the Microsoft MVP award for the first time, and I renewed it every year. Until today.

I’m leaving the program with a good feeling. I joined amazing communities, met so many great people, and the MVP program opened countless doors for me. It was fantastic for my career, and I still say that this and similar programs are invaluable for anyone who, like me, enjoys contributing to the various software communities in Brazil and around the world. I have lots of friends who are MVPs, GDEs, GitHub Stars, Java Champions, etc.—truly wonderful people whom I’ve been privileged to know. Some became so close that we founded a successful company together, where we’ve helped train many people who also went on to win the award. At one point, we were one of the companies with the highest number of awarded professionals globally—with ten awardees!

The program renews every 12 months, in July, and lately my desire to participate by speaking, writing articles, and producing Microsoft‑related content has all but vanished. That was reflected in how little content I produced in that period, which, if not zero, was pretty close to it. My decision to step away from the program is justified, and I saw it coming.

I thought I’d feel upset when it happened. When the farewell email arrived, I analyzed my feelings, and now—ten hours later—I’m still at peace. I see this as the end of a cycle. It was time.

I won’t lose the connections I’ve made along the way—those remain, and that makes me happy. And I’ve been making many other connections outside the Microsoft community for years, and I’m very happy about that too.

At the same time, it’s the start of a new cycle. Actually, it confirms a cycle that began some years ago. I’ve been contributing more and more to technologies completely unrelated to Microsoft, like Rust, Linux, and all sorts of infrastructure and DevOps tools I know. Also, since I’m on sabbatical, my demand for C# is very low, and I’ve had more opportunities to explore other areas. C# remains one of my favorite languages—it just keeps getting better—but I know it inside and out, and anyone who knows me knows I love learning constantly. So, for now, my main focus is Rust.

Communities have changed a lot too. Nowadays, we meet mostly online, many events are virtual, and much of the interaction isn’t face‑to‑face anymore—which I do miss sometimes. One of my earliest community involvements—a study group called .NET Architects—started in person but quickly gained a strong online presence through an (almost) still‑alive email group that’s still available for anyone who wants to read our old conversations. Our in‑person meetups were important and took place in several Brazilian cities.

The MVP program itself has changed dramatically. When I joined, one of the biggest perks was access to confidential info about upcoming products. For example, I learned about the .NET Core project in 2014, long before it went public, and I was able to use that intel strategically in the businesses I was involved in. Even though I couldn’t share details, that knowledge was crucial for making major decisions that I took—and helped my business partners take. Nowadays, most of Microsoft’s software development is open source, and planning happens openly, with meetings and minutes posted on GitHub. It’s wonderful to see open source win, but conversely that perk was watered down. There were also cases of people breaking NDAs and leaking confidential info, which led some teams to share less than they’d planned. A pity.

When I joined, the program still offered a $100 voucher to buy anything in the MVP store, shipped to Brazil tax‑free. I got one and gifted a bunch of stuff—it was really cool. That benefit ended in 2010, so I only got it once.

Another huge benefit was the annual event at Microsoft headquarters—the MVP Summit in Redmond—where I had the chance to meet and spend a few days with the people working day in and day out on the products I used. It was incredible to meet some of the top designers of languages, frameworks, tools, and operating systems in the world, and even challenge them a bit. How many times did I ask the C# team to add more metaprogramming features, like macros? Many—pretty much every year. I even made a public request for the main DevOps tool (now Azure DevOps) to support Git, which caused quite a stir and put me in a tricky spot with some Microsoft internal teams. At that event, I met the team working on WSL (Windows Subsystem for Linux) and spent an hour in the hallway listening to the engineering lead talk about their technical and political challenges—a Linux guy inside Microsoft!

During the pandemic, the event became fully online, and with its return it adopted a hybrid model—but they cut the free lodging; before, we only had to cover transport costs. That reduced participation—dozens of Brazilians used to go; in recent years, fewer than ten. I haven’t gone. The event overall seems to have shrunk, and many prefer to stay online. Another pity.

The recognition the award brings, however, remains strong. But after nearly 30 years of experience, and more than half that time as a continuous awardee, I already have plenty of recognition. I think it’s good to contribute now without that affiliation, and at the same time free up space for the newer folks coming up.

Thanks to everyone who was close on this journey—you know who you are. And I’m not disappearing from tech communities. Nothing changes in that regard. Only now I’ll be Giovanni, not “MVP.”

Some photos from MVP Summits over the years: