tech etc...

There will be days

This post’s title is from my favourite Van Morrison song. It’s a reminder that among all the great days, and there are many, there will in fact be days when situations leave me wondering.

When I entered software development I’d not only heard about the industry’s stereotypes, its reputation as a profession that can be unfriendly to women (at best and not limited to), I’d studied them in depth.

My masters dissertations focused on the history of gender and computer science. I’ve got a PhD proposal all packaged up, collecting dust in Google Drive, exploring constructions of gender in software development (that’s the tl;dr version). I spent years reading studies of gender, history, and social science.

But it never fails to shock me when I experience something I’ve only read about in books, academic journals, or the media.

To be clear, my identities are affirmed, validated, reaffirmed, and revalidated, constantly – every day. The fact that these shocks are few and far between speaks to that constant process of affirmation and validation which I benefit from and which so many developers do not.

It’s because I benefit that I tend not to want to write or talk publicly about them. I’m not convinced my voice will add much to the conversation and it may detract from marginalised voices.

I also don’t write because I’m ambivalent about prescribing bias to an act of human forgetfulness. We all screw up. When our minds are deep in a problem or a discussion it’s a challenge to be fully aware; to solve that knotty problem or debate ideas, and remember the impact of our words or actions and how they may fit into the fabric of social systems and histories.

I’ve not yet figured out how to balance intent with impact when I’m faced with an interaction which doesn’t feel quite right. Almost always a number of factors are involved, some of which can be connected to broader patterns of power structures. I also know that, as a colleague phrased it, I’m “unconsciously pattern matching with previous experiences”, which can influence my reaction.

For the most part I let the moments pass, never really forgetting, and maybe adding another drop to the bucket of “I’m not enough”/”I don’t belong”. I move on to the next day and the next challenge.

Then there’s a question of repercussions following an act of self-revelation. I’ve participated in some incredible communities: extreme programming, software crafting, makers academy. I work at a company I love, in a team which I think is unique in its support and joyful programming, and I’ve attended, and plan to attend more, fascinating conferences and meetups.

I’ve also seen too many folks in tech who write openly about their experiences be dismissed. It makes me cautious. As much as I have faith in these communities to be the best versions of themselves I know that’s not always possible – and I’ve stayed silent.

Yet I’ve wanted to write about these shocks almost from the very moment I began my path to become a developer because well, they’ve happened from the very start and they will continue to happen.

And now, five years on, when I think about whether I should remain silent or speak I can’t help but think of the philosopher poet Audre Lorde’s essay “The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action”^* and her words remind me of the power of speaking.

So I’m writing this.

^{* Lorde, Audre. “The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action”. 1998. In Sister Outsider, 40-44. Freedom, CA: The Crossing Press.}