Weekend Reading: The Sci-Fi Videos Edition

This week's links are more viewing than reading. I have two short sci-fi videos for you. I'll embed them, but you should really blow them up full screen to watch them.

First up, Plurality:


Next, Tears of Steel:


I do have one thing for you to read, found via @CodingHorror's twitter feed. It is an interesting article about the Randian leanings of some tech entrepreneurs.

Identity Crisis

I've been having a low key identity crisis over the past few months. No- I'm not having a mid-life crisis. I'm trying to decide under what name I should publish my upcoming children's book (and probably any other future writing I choose to publish in a non-blog format). I had generally assumed that I would publish under a pseudonym, but lately I've been considering using my real initials and last name.

I've been thinking about showing Pumpkin my book- which is her bedtime story- and explaining why it is not my name on the front. What would I tell her? Would I feel good about my explanation and what it said to her about me, her, and our place in the world?

I do not kid myself and think that I am truly anonymous here. Far from it- anyone who knows me in real life and finds this blog will recognize me, and I am aware that it would be trivially easy for someone who wanted to find out my real name to do so. I have two main reasons for writing pseudonymously: (1) I worry about potential employers googling my name and finding the blog and reading something that makes them not want to hire me, (2) I worry about having something I write about the kids come back later to cause them problems (e.g., teasing at school).

In short, I've thought that by blogging under a pseudonym, I am protecting myself and my family. I have started to rethink that.

On the first issue, what is it that I write that could potentially sour an employer? I used to joke that I didn't want someone who was considering hiring me to find a bunch of posts about how sleep deprived I am- but I am not sleep deprived anymore. The more likely scenario now is that the potential employer disagrees with my more feminist posts or doesn't like my assertion that working long hours is unproductive. I rarely blog directly about my work and never blog anything even close to proprietary. In a fair world, nothing I write would cause me any problems with my career. But we do not live in a fair world, and I know that, so I worry.

Still, I find myself thinking about the worst possible career outcome- namely that I get fired and/or cannot get hired someplace else because of something I write- and find that I don't care. I would not write anything where such an outcome would be justified, so if I did suffer any career repercussions for anything I write, I think I could live with that. I have money in the bank and other ideas about what I could do to make more money. Perhaps I should reject the idea that writing honestly about my life as a mother in the workforce might jeopardize my place in the workforce, not because it couldn't do that, but because it shouldn't do that. I have long felt that the safest course for me in my career is to avoid being linked directly with feminism. Perhaps it is time for me to stop being safe and do my small bit to help make it safer for women in science and technology to be outspoken.

The second issue is trickier. I still would not name my kids on my blog. I don't have the same last name as my children, and my last name is a fairly common one. So realistically, by the time my kids' friends are old enough to find this blog, they would be old enough to break through the thin veil of anonymity I have now- but it isn't likely that they would do so by accident. The more likely concern is that I could pick up a troll who becomes scary, i.e., who figures out who I am in real life and threatens me and my family there. This is very unlikely, but sadly, not impossible. In a sane world, nothing I write here could possibly spur someone to take such hateful steps. But we do not live in a sane world. We live in a world where the outcry and discussion around the outing of the man who created and moderated disgusting and harmful Reddit sites is more around the fact that someone outed him than around the fact that his sites were a safe haven for men who engage in predatory behavior towards women and girls. We live in a world where all young women have to worry about the ever present camera and what an inopportune photo can do to them in the hands of the wrong person. We live in a world where Kathy Sierra can be hounded offline by trolls issuing death threats. We live in a world where Facebook allows disgusting hate speech aimed at women under the guise of "humor" and "satire." And in this world, women are just supposed to shrug and ignore all of this because of "free speech." (Note: most people do not understand what free speech really means.)

But as I've been reading all of the recent news, and reflecting back on the Sierra story (which occurred right around the time I was first becoming active online), I find that my primary emotion isn't fear. It is anger. I am angry that this is the world I have to explain to my girls someday. I am angry that I'll have to coach them to be careful about pictures, and that I'll eventually have to explain about sexists and misogynists and the happy home those people have found for themselves in certain corners of the internet. I am angry that I have to pick my way past that sexism and misogyny online, and that my daughters undoubtedly will, too.

And come to think of it, I am angry that I have to worry at all that writing under my own name about being a working mother and being a feminist could have negative repercussions on my career.

I am sick of this stuff. I want it to get better. Maybe it is time to revisit my old adage to "never give them a reason to disrespect you" and acknowledge that the people who are going to disrespect me and try to hold me back will always find a reason, no matter what I do. I do not kid myself that my reach or importance are anywhere big enough to mean that my decision will make an iota of difference to the rest of the world. But it will matter to me, and to the example I am to my daughters, and that is reason enough to think this through. What message do I want to send them? And how, exactly, do I best protect them from the ugliness that is in this world?

My decision is made, but I am not going to tell you what it is, because I want to hear what you think in the comments. Tell me, please.

Up and Down

Parenting is sort of kicking my butt these days- we are definitely muddling through. I am always tempted to let these rough times go unremarked- why dwell on the hard times?-  but occasionally one of the kids will do something that I want to remember and I'll feel compelled to write a post about it.

Case in point:

This was a good weekend, but a trying one. Petunia got to bring the class stuffed animal Pete, a penguin roughly 2/3 the size of Petunia, home from day care. She was very excited to have Pete with us. Unfortunately, so was Pumpkin, who almost immediately started to whine about how she never got a chance to play with Pete. This wasn't really unexpected, but it was fairly annoying and resulted in a few timeouts and a few dramatic flounces down the hall, complete with slammed bedroom door.

We still had fun with Pete- we took him to a merry-go-round and Mr. Snarky strapped him onto his very own horse, much to Petunia's delight. She insisted that both she and Pete should ride on horses that went up and down, so Mr. Snarky had to stand there and ensure Pete held his seat. It was pretty amusing, really.

But by this evening, I was tired. I was tired of refereeing disagreements between the girls. I was tired of explaining things to the girls- they are both in explanation-intense phases, I guess, and both Petunia's incessant asking of "why?" and Pumpkin's less frequent, but more complicated questions sap my energy. I was tired of paying attention to Petunia's potty needs and cleaning up potty accidents- we've decided to get serious about potty training, which may be my least favorite parenting task, and one that I readily admit we suck at. (On the plus side- this is the last time we'll have to do it!) And I was annoyed that we had managed to get through a rather impressive list of household chores, but that I when I'd finally gotten the chance to sit down at my computer to do the work I needed to complete this weekend I had been interrupted in 15 minutes. To be fair, Mr. Snarky had tried to take Pete and the girls out for a walk with our wagon, but it had started raining and they'd had to come home. That extenuating circumstance is completely irrelevant to the state of my bug database, though.

After bath, I was trying to get the girls dressed and on to snack- I was definitely in the "just plow through until we're through bedtime" mindset and not in a playful, "let's make this all a game" mindset. And Pumpkin just would not cooperate. She was bouncing around on the sofa half-dressed, giggling and cavorting and not listening. I snapped and gave her an ultimatum, which she ignored, and then Mr. Snarky marched her down the hall to her bedroom, wailing. Petunia started crying, too. Neither girl likes to see the other upset, unless, of course, the reason for the upset is that one is being punished for an infraction against the other, in which case the observing child tends to think that the wailing is just the natural course of justice. In this case, Pumpkin's shenanigans had not disturbed Petunia, so she added her protest to her sister's.

I finished getting Petunia into her PJs, and then I went after Pumpkin. She was contrite, and gave me a long hug. I've been trying to give her more of those, since I know that kindergarten is harder than she expected it to be, and the hugs seem to help. I told her I was tired, and we just needed to go have snack and get to bed. She agreed and said "I don't know why, Mommy. I'm so tired, too. I don't know why my body made me bounce around like that."

How could I not smile?

So then I told her that was OK, but that I'd tried to tell her that I was getting mad, and she didn't seem to hear me.

"Oh, I heard you Mommy. I just wasn't listening."

Indeed. 

But it cleared the mood, and we went out and had snack, and then headed to bed, all in a good mood. Until, that is, Petunia insisted I come in and finish getting her down. It was Mr. Snarky's turn, but I am often the required "closer" these days. Luckily for Petunia, I remember when Pumpkin was about the same age, and I was also the required closer for her bedtimes. This may have been what eventually led me to break Pumpkin of the habit of needing company to fall asleep. I suspect a similar fate is in store for Petunia soon. I'm debating whether or not to wait until potty training is further along. Regardless, tonight I just went in and snuggled her, and tried to appreciate the quiet time and the chance to snuggle.

And now I'm off to bed, roughly 30 minutes later than I should be. But I feel better for having written this. Perhaps I should take the time to capture the tough days more often!

Weekend Reading: The Hodgepodge Edition

I have another hodgepodge of links for you. Maybe I should just give up and admit that most weeks, I have a hodgepodge of links... but no, I think I'll cling to the fiction that I do themed links posts a little while longer.

First, I have a couple of work related posts: First Generation American has an awesome post about networking, and my friend @smbaxtersd send me a link to a great post about how there really isn't a shortcut to  learning the skills required to be a data scientist. I think that last one is broadly applicable to many fields- as we discussed last week, you have to put in the effort to build the skills.

On a completely unrelated note, I love the recent article in the Guardian from Ariel Meadow Stallings, which completely captures why I dislike the almost reflexive calling of privilege that I run across sometimes, particularly on feminist sites. You should go read the whole thing, but here is one particularly good quote:

"My priorities with online discourse are dialogue and respect. In my little corner of the online world, I keep my focus on constructive critique and articulate, compassionate communication. Shouting down people who disagree with you (even if I agree with your argument) simply doesn't feel productive or helpful. If I had a dollar for every time we have to delete a blog comment that I personally agreed with because it was stated as an attack … I could shift my whole business model. Being an asshole: it's not just for the GOD HATES FAGS people any more."

She also ends with a great checklist to use before writing a comment. Really, go read that article. It is great.

And of course, there have been lots of posts about Mitt Romney's unfortunate binders full of women. Here are some of my favorites:

• Avivah Wittenberg-Cox on HBR discusses the remark in the context of Romney's time as CEO at Bain Capital. Hush has an awesome explanation of why Romney's remarks about women in the workplace are annoying to so many of us women in the workplace.
• Lisa Suennen at Venture Valkyrie has a data filled rant on the topic, looking at the business case for actually hiring more senior women rather than just looking at binders full of them. (This last one also came via @smbaxtersd's twitter stream.)

And finally, I end with dolphins, who can apparently sleep half of their brain at a time. (Found via this article, which I found via slashdot.) How cool is that? I want to do that! But alas, I cannot. So I should go do the dishes so that I can get to bed and let my whole brain sleep. Happy weekend, everyone!

Imagining How It Could Be

I've written before about how much I liked Mother Nature, by Sarah Blaffer Hrdy. It really helped me see how much of the narrative about what is "natural" or "biological" about motherhood in our society is actually cultural. It also raised some interesting thoughts about why our culture has evolved in the way it has. These thoughts are far from fully formed, but I'm sure that the entirely natural male desire to ensure the survival of their genes played a big role. She has an interesting, if a bit disturbing, section about why women might go along with these arrangements, too, in the interest of furthering their own genes' chances. (I'm speaking purely about the biological influences on our behavior, and ignoring the extent to which we can overrule those impulses.)

The book also includes sections that show glimpses of a different way- for instance, in her discussion of the Canela, whom she describes as a "mother-centered" society, and in her discussion of the matriarchal non-human primates. I don't think biology is the whole story, but it is certainly part of the story. And the fact that different species and different human societies have found different mechanisms to meet the same biological goals should help us shake off the stale idea that the reason mothers typically struggle to integrate children into the rest of lives more than fathers do is purely due to the different biological roles of mothers and fathers.

While I was reading Mother Nature, I could almost imagine how we could arrange a society that would let all members- mothers, fathers, people without kids, people whose kids are grown- pursue their interests and ambitions while also ensuring that our kids have the care they need to thrive. Hrdy spends a lot of time discussing the role of allomothers (child-minders who are not the mother), including some fascinating stuff about older women that merits a post of it own. She also describes various ways in which mothers can and do integrate their kids into their "other" lives. Those two things together sparked my imagination, and I started to think about how we could remake our society if we weren't constrained by our patriarchal roots and the fact that so many people have a vested interest in seeing our traditional gender roles stay intact.

After my first daughter was born, I felt the strong urge to care for her that many mothers talk about. This urge truly does have biological foundations, albeit foundations that are quite different than what we often assume- the act of caring for the baby in those first days and weeks appears to be the trigger for the impulse, and not the act of giving birth. Hrdy's discussion of what we actually know about the "maternal instinct" is both in depth and fascinating, but that isn't what I want to discuss in this post. Instead, I'd like to focus on the fact that I did not feel an urge to abandon all my other interests and engage in a single-minded pursuit of caring for my offspring. Judging by the many impassioned posts and comments I've read from new mothers looking to reclaim their sense of self, this was certainly not a unique experience, although it is not one our culture really embraces. For me, the other interests I wanted to maintain were my professional ones. I wanted to go back to work.

My desire to work didn't mean that I didn't want to spend time with my daughter and care for her. I wanted to do both, and I feel like I have found an arrangement that allows me to do both. My arrangement is not perfect, though, and as I read Hrdy's descriptions of how mothers in other societies and even other species do indeed do both, I realized that a lot of the imperfections I see in my own situation are due to the fact that our society as it is currently structured expects most of us to make an either/or choice- or at least, it tells us that we are making that stark either/or choice, when in fact, even with the limited wiggle room available to us now, most mothers do not do that, but instead find ways to combine mothering with other things.

As I said, I think that I am still caring for my daughters- and my time logs support that opinion. I'd argue that a stay at home mother who devotes time and energy to economizing around the house is also making a choice to do both care-giving and other work. It is just that her work is unpaid. I can't actually think of any mothers I know or know of who do nothing but mother their children. And yet, we have largely accepted that the choice as it is currently presented to us is The Way it Has to Be, and we fight amongst ourselves about which choice is The Right One.

If we try to free our imaginations from the constraints set by our current system and think about how it could be if we designed a system from scratch, we can perhaps catch a glimpse of a better way that doesn't force a rigid choice- or the illusion of one!- on us. We can imagine workplaces that accommodate our families and our lives, instead of competing with them. We can imagine a society that celebrates and rewards allomothers instead of distrusting them and trying to convince the  mothers who rely upon them that we are giving up some portion of our childrens' affections. We can imagine being allowed to find new ways to combine work and caring for our children.

Doors: Effective Baby Blocking Technology

Sadly, I can only catch a glimpse of this world. I cannot describe it, I can only describe ideas that might be part of it. Perhaps we could integrate child care with some work places, so that mothers could work when our kids were happy with their allomothers, but be there for the times when they are not. I'm not thinking of the current rare office with a day care center on site, hidden off in some corner of the building and perhaps visited on lunch breaks, but of an environment where the kids and their carers were more integrated with the rest of the office. You may think that this would never succeed- the kids would be too distracting. And you'd probably be right for some types of work places. But a lot of jobs involve mainly sitting at a desk and typing on a computer. Some babies are quite content for long periods when worn in a sling, and most toddlers can be distracted by fun activities. Maybe we'd need to move people out of cubicles and back into offices. You remember- the work spaces that had four walls and doors. Or what if we freed ourselves from our obsession with counting hours and instead focused on measuring productivity, and set up work/play rooms where mothers could work while their kids played and some allomothers helped entertain the kids? I think that the appeal of this sort of arrangement is what attracts a lot of mothers to the idea of working at home- but in many cases, there are no allomothers present, and so the result is a mother trying to squeeze work in during naptimes.

Or maybe we could better institutionalize part time work. In my ideal maternity leave arrangement, I would have taken 4 months off, and then worked the rest of the year part time, starting out at about 24 hours per week and gradually ramping back up to full time work. This was not an option I felt I had open to me for a variety of reasons, although I got reasonably close the first time around, with 3 months off, 1 month at 24 hours, and then working 35 hours/week until I changed jobs. Yet even that amount of flexibility is a rare thing, and people are amazed I managed to set it up without incurring a career penalty. The sad fact is that right now, going part time for a long period often means accepting less interesting or meaningful work, and there is usually a sharp career penalty to pursuing this option. But there is no fundamental problem with part time work that requires it to be this way, as long as the arrangement includes enough hours to enable productivity. I currently have two mothers working as part time contractors on my projects, and we are actively recruiting two more. Why do we accept their limitations on hours? Because they are damn good at what they do and they won't work otherwise. (This ties in with discussion about focusing on skills in my post about So Good They Can't Ignore You.) Not all managers are willing to consider part time workers, though, and even among those who are, there are limitations that would not have to be there. My job, for instance, could not be part time in my current company's culture. This is not because of the nature of what I do- I could easily fit the core functions of my job into four eight hour days, for instance, and with a little more work, I could carve up my responsibilities and make it possible for me to job share. If I wanted to pursue these options, though, I'd have to negotiate for them and I would frankly be taking a large career risk. It does not have to be this way.

Or we could keep our 40 hour work week and really make it a 40 hour work week. We could teach productivity and reward efficiency rather than face time. We could arrange our school days to better match work days. We could fund our schools so that art and library are covered by paid staff and not parent volunteers. We could lengthen the school day and include more "enrichment" options so that parents don't have to arrange before and after care, and can let their children get all of their education at school, rather than shuttling them to various classes. We could have more preschools and day care centers, and subsidize them so that quality options would be available to everyone, not just those whose incomes allow it. We could integrate day care centers into schools, so that parents with more than one child do not face the dreaded double drop off problem. In short, we could stop treating two-career families as an inconvenience on everyone else, and fund programs that actually make their lives easier.

Or we could do something else entirely, that I can't free my mind enough to imagine. Think of the solutions we might find if we stopped arguing about artificial constraints on the system and instead worked to truly solve the problem.

I am a pragmatist, so I recognize that we all must try to find the best solutions for our families out of the options currently available, and not the wild musings of some random blogger. I have made compromises in my own life, and I refuse to judge other families for the compromises they decide to make. But I want to at least recognize the compromises I am making. I want to hold on to that glimpse of how it could be, and try to see the possibilities more clearly. I want to find ways to move us closer to what is possible. Maybe if we can do that, we can start a process that really changes our society, and gets us off our current track of flipping through culturally approved compromises that mothers must make: one decade, the approved option is to sacrifice all outside interests for your kids, the next it is to ignore your caregiving instincts and focus on your career, then it is to "do it all", and then it is "you can't have it all".... and all of it pushes the issues onto mothers and sometimes their partners, without ever questioning the constraints and cultural assumptions that are making the problems in the first place.

Yeah, I know, it is unlikely that we'll make much progress. The forces pushing back are strong. But still, a girl can dream. Right?