My first year, a personal review

I woke up to a cheery email today telling me that a quarter of my stock options had vested. That means I’ve been with LaunchDarkly a whole year! (there are worse anniversary notes to get).

And what a year it’s been. I thought about doing a photo essay of all the conferences I went to in the last year, but there have literally been 36 this year, and I had speaking slots at all but 5, and of those 5, I ran open spaces at 3. Too many pictures!

I went to 3 other countries – Australia, Santo Domingo, and Canada. I made platinum status on my airline, missed my kid’s 13th birthday and every single concert, and wore out a TravelPro suitcase. I made a bunch of new friends and acquaintances, and got to know others better, and worked my ass off to learn a new career.

When I started, I had exactly one day in the office to get my new laptop, meet my new co-workers, and have an enthusiastic and influential conversation about stickers. Then it was off to Kansas City Developer Conference, my first official conference as an official Developer Advocate.

Let’s just say I was glad for my thorough interview prep!

You can see that my sticker conversation ended well. This is Velocity New York, I think.

I made it back to Oakland for LISA and the office Halloween party

I celebrated company milestones, even if I wasn’t always in the office for the official parties. I ate this bread pudding in New Orleans at RubyConf. It was delicious.

I sewed a bag for the sticker collection I tote with me to conferences. The inside fabric was an in-office thank-you gift, and the fastener is one I got in the Garment District of New York

Toggle the Space Explorer in a bag of stickers

I met this sleepy lion when I was in Sydney to visit Atlassian. It was my first customer on-site and it was kind of mind-boggling. They had so many great ideas for new features and ways to work with our product.

Lion outside the Atlassian Sydney office

There was a caricaturist at Index San Francisco. I’m pleased that I happened to be wearing this jacket that I made.

Caricature drawing of a white woman with brown, pink-tipped hair and blue eyes

This was a sketchy diagram I took a picture of and sent to our awesome product/graphic person, Melissa. She’s the one who does all our striking stickers and visual look and feel. This ended up as a slide in my Waffle House talk.

Messy handwriting diagram of success/failure continuum.

Here is my glamorous life. I took a nap in the office before a redeye flight home. This is the old office, which we have now outgrown, but the view was amazing. I am wearing technology socks, but I can’t remember right now whose.

A person's socked feet, a view of the clocktower in Oakland

The key to never feeling bad about putting stickers on your work laptop is to first cover said laptop with a clear case. It gives you a little bit of ablative impact resistance, and when you change computers, you can keep the case for your wall!

I’m proud of the work I did, and in the next post, I’ll talk a little bit about what I think is happening.

Dignity, Always Dignity

A fat tabby lies sprawled on its backOne of the interesting parts of being a semi-public figure by doing DevRel is that it makes you think a lot about how you look to other people, in a way I suspect is not a concern for the ordinary developer. It parallels the doubled perception that a lot of women already experience.

In 1972, art critic and philosopher John Berger wrote,

A woman must continually watch herself. She is almost continually accompanied by her own image of herself. Whilst she is walking across a room or whilst she is weeping at the death of her father, she can scarcely avoid envisaging herself walking or weeping. From earliest childhood she has been taught and persuaded to survey herself continually. And so she comes to consider the surveyor and the surveyed within her as the two constituent yet always distinct elements of her identity as a woman. She has to survey everything she is and everything she does because how she appears to men, is of crucial importance for what is normally thought of as the success of her life. Her own sense of being in herself is supplanted by a sense of being appreciated as herself by another….

It’s reductive and essentialist and troubling, but I’m not sure it’s untrue – there is a level of mindfulness to being visibly female, and a similar level of mindfulness to being visible/active online, and to representing a company.Like all forms of identity, there are a lot of intersections and nuances and complications and historical considerations. I personally know at least two female-presenting people who left technology because the cost to continue was too high, and I can think of many more who have taken deliberately lower-profile, less-dangerous positions. But I also know people who choose to be aggressively public about their gender, their level of ability, their struggles. It’s not a contest, but it is a grind.

There’s a joke-not-joke about how so many women in technology and especially information security have chosen to have obviously artificial hair color. We tell people it’s so we can identify each other in a crowd, or it’s because poisonous animals have bright markings, or because we’ve gotten to the place where we can’t get fired anymore. Because it makes us look queer (a lot of us are, but not all). Because it makes us feel fierce.

Those are all true, and many more reasons besides, but at least for me, having bright pink hair is also a level of defiance. I am not here to look pretty for you. I am not junior enough to worry about my career (a lie, of course). I am aggressively, boldly, assertively female, and I am not ashamed of that. It’s really political, at least for me. If you won’t hire me because of my hair, I don’t want to work for you. And I can make that stick.I know sometimes that people see it as juvenile, or childish, or girly, and discount me because of it.

But here’s the thing – if I am on stage, recognized by a conference as an authority, and I’m girly, it breaks people’s mental model about either what it means to be on stage or to be girly. Every time I make someone reconcile those two things, I hope to make it slightly easier for a junior person who likes winged eyeliner to get credit for a technical idea.

Because here’s the key point –

Dignity has nothing to do with competence.

My friends, if I rock up on the stage and give a mind-blowing talk on the origins of full-disk encryption and AES while wearing a clown suit, I expect you to listen to me and also not dismiss the next person you see trying to explain something while wearing a red nose.

I think, historically, dignity has been coupled with respect and professionalism, but I don’t think that’s an unbreakable triad. I think it’s a habit of mind.

I started thinking about this when I saw something on Twitter about how respect actually has two meanings – the first, for people who are already in power, is actually more like deference from people with less power. Respect the office, the badge, the cloth. The second, the respect desired and demanded by the powerless, is to be treated like a full human. As people in tech, we probably seamlessly use both definitions without realizing we’re moving between them, and which one we mean depends on where we are in the power structure.

Professionalism is, at core, very utilitarian. It means operating with the group standards in a way that keeps the organization from experiencing friction and loss of efficiency. If something is professional, it keeps the gears of collegial relations turning. It is not professional to sexually harass people because it degrades their work efficiency drastically. (It’s also terrible on a number of other levels, but corporations can only be persuaded by the bottom line.) If I’m being treated professionally, it means I have the same opportunities and liabilities as other employees, and that I can count on the explicit and implicit contracts to be followed and enforced. I’ll get paid on time, I’ll be physically safe, my work won’t be arbitrarily discarded, things like that.

I can be professional with pink hair. I can be respectful with pink hair. Those are behaviors that I control. But whether you see me as dignified or not? That’s a tougher call. If I dyed my hair brown, would it be enough? What if I grew out the mohawk? Wore a skirt suit? Wore a pantsuit? Stopped using swearwords in my talks?

No, I think the commentariat has proven that no matter how much competence a woman has, no matter how much time and energy she wastes trying to conform to the standards, there are always some people who won’t see her as dignified. And that’s ok, for me. I can afford that, to a degree. But culturally, every time I see someone dismissive about something that is coded as youthful, joyful, or feminine, I worry that they care more about dignity than they do about competence. I’m not ok with that, and you shouldn’t be, either.

Note: Of course I screw this up. My own internalized misogyny and other shit automatically makes me roll my eyes at signals I consider frivolous or less-than, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to eradicate those habits. Someone once told me that the first reaction you have to something is what you were taught growing up, and the second reaction is the more mindful reaction. Fast and slow thought, if you will.

Check your fast thought against your slow thought and try to make decisions based on what you believe, instead of what you ‘know’.

Construct, Capable, Confident

I can’t make it parallel. I tried. We just have to live with an imperfect world of non-parallel headline items.

I was talking to another speaker the other day, and she asked me how I knew I was ready to give a talk. As with so many other things in my life, I have a checklist.

As I’m prepping a talk, it falls into three stages – construction, feeling capable, and feeling confident.


Writing a talk is ~40-80 hours of work for me. Usually it’s spread over several months. Here are the things I try to do as part of writing a talk:

🔲 Research and keep notes of where I find information.
🔲 Write a high-level outline.
🔲 Decide on a theme.
🔲 Rough in the slides.
🔲 Find/create/source graphics for slides
🔲 Practice talking through the slides out loud.
🔲 Check for timing.
🔲 Check the talk against the code of conduct.
🔲 Finalize slides.


Here are the things I need to do to feel like I could give a talk without embarrassing anyone:

🔲 Practice to myself.
🔲 Practice in front of another human.
🔲 Incorporate suggestions and changes.
🔲 Be able to talk about each slide a little bit without notes.
🔲 Hit timing within 15% of goal.


I could probably give this talk even if my A/V failed completely. I have given it to an audience before, I have refined it. Here are the things I need to feel confident about a talk:

🔲 Have a good recording to listen to before the next iteration.
🔲 Gave the talk at least once in public to get the suck out.
🔲 Changed information on the fly.
🔲 Can roam away from speaker notes without noticing.


I think every speaker has their own process, and you’ll discover yours. For me, I know some essential things about my process that I try to work in. For instance, the first time I give a talk, it sucks. There is a finite amount of suck in any talk, and I need to extract it before I get in front of the crucial audience. Also, I tend to go over time when I have an audience to play to, so I deliberately write my talks 5-10 minutes shorter than the time slot.

You’ll figure out your own process as you go along, but remember that the easiest way to feel confident and prepared when you get onstage is to be prepared to your own standards.

I believe in you! You can do the thing!

Praise is a vitamin

I was thinking about how happy I am when I get the kind of praise I need. It doesn’t make me feel smug or complacent, it makes me feel strong and empowered and like what I’m doing matters and is seen. Which is kind of the opposite of burnout. I don’t think you can entirely stave off burnout with praise – it’s systemic and situational, but I think you can certainly help.

I mostly get enough vitamins in my daily diet, so I don’t take a multivitamin. I will take specific stuff if it seems called for – folic acid while pregnant, vitamin D in the dark northern winters, salts when I’m doing a lot of sweating. (Pro-tip: If Gatorade actually tastes good to you, keep drinking it until it returns to its normal grossness).

You would think that most work would also give us what we need to feel rewarded, but some people are just better at metabolizing vitamins from food than other people. Some people can eat all the right stuff and still be desperately short of magnesium, or whatever. Our jobs continue to pay us, our boss is not yelling at us, our coworkers speak to us, surely that’s enough? For some of us, yes. For others, not so much.

For some of us, it’s hard to store praise, just like it’s difficult to store some vitamins. You can take a massive dose, but the body will take what it needs and dump the rest, and you’ll be short again in a couple weeks. Some of us can store praise for a long time, but it’s difficult to replenish, or we can use it all up in a burst.

Some of us walk into work with a chronic deficiency and we’re just going to need the same type of reassurance and praise over and over again, and we can’t help it. We do believe you when you tell us nice things, but it wears out, and we can’t generate it ourselves, anymore than we can generate our own Vitamin C.

Lots of managers realize that we all need praise and attempt to address this with the compliment equivalent of multivitamins. They’ll pat us on the back and say “Good job, I like your work.”, and hope that suffices. It does, for lots of people. But those of us, like me, with specific deficiencies, need more than that. We need something targeted and specific, like a B12 shot, something that can’t be brushed off as lip service or a generality. I like praise about actions that I have taken, especially if they are tied to a goal. So, for example, “Hey, your talk on data privacy really affected people – I heard some guys walking out talking about what they could do to be better.” That’s going to keep me happy about writing talks and giving them for weeks! It’s one of my goals to change people’s thinking and behaviors. On the other hand, “We’re getting a lot of leads from conferences you go to,” is… sales leads are not really my goal? I mean, I’m happy about that, but I don’t know if they’re valuable leads, and I can’t see them, so I’m glad that the company is getting worth from that, but it’s not going to feed me when I sit down to write the next new talk.

As a manager, you’re going to deal with people who have scars from nutritional deficiencies. They may nervously expect that praise always has a dark side, or they may be praise-insecure and never sure that they are going to get it again so they guard it from others. It’s not really your job to diagnose what’s going on, just to figure out what it is that your report is lacking and supply it as best you can, honestly, realistically, and sustainably.I’m working on a new theory where I admit I am anxious and that in the absence of positive feedback, I start getting more and more nervous that there is nothing good to say, and my immanent firing will come soon. People who think they are about to get fired are terrible employees – no creativity, no joy, limited teamwork – for good reason. Rather than end up in that spot, I’d rather say directly, “I need this kind of praise to stay healthy.” Better for me, better for my manager and company.

What kind of praise feeds you? Have you asked for it?PS – Due to my odd childhood, I have a strangely inclusive knowledge of nutritional deficiency diseases. Because I am kind, though, I have not included any of those pictures.

PPS – Did you know that because we use Vitamin C to build collagen, people with severe scurvy can have old healed wounds reopen as the scars dissolve? There’s a metaphor to be had there.