Discrimination by Design: Tech Business, Bias, and the Trolls

“The world of coding appreciates your vagina.”

My coworkers and I looked at it and other comments piling up under a video of iJustine, a perky, blonde haired, doe-eyed YouTube presenter, explaining how she coded her own bracelet which was 3D printed by our company.

It was 2014 and the 3D printing startup we worked for had teamed up with Google to work on their Made with Code initiative, which aimed to get young girls involved in technology and understand the basics of programming. Under the tagline “the things you love are made with code,” featured coding projects that included fashion designs, emojis, video games, and our 3D printed friendship bracelets were all packaged up in a pastel-hued, rah-rah girlpower website.


The comments kept coming, “Proof that being a hot girl can make you rich, and allow you to talk about shit you have no clue about. Yet there’s this big push for feminism, claiming gender inequality in the West is a thing. LOL.”

“You don’t need ‘empowering’ at a young age, Let them be free and dont expose kids to externals ideas or some kind of gender agenda [sic].”

“I sure as shit hope this gets more girls into coding. So i can laugh at their extreme disappointment when they realize it’s nothing like they thought it would be thanks to retards like ijustine.”

Based on their screen names and avatars, all were written by adult men. L., our design education lead shook her head, “This video is for children. We’re going to delete these, right?”

No, our white male CEO insisted, we needed to leave the comments open to encourage dialogue and resist the urge to shut down free expression. Instead of deleting the offensive comments, or closing comments on the video all together, L. was instructed to politely respond to each one. We had just spent significant time and company resources to support a project that encourages girls to code and we were more concerned with protecting the “free speech” of YouTube trolls then ensuring the intended audience for the project, pre-teen and teenaged girls, felt safe watching it.

I shook with rage, as she too became trollbait and received responses such as, “Perhaps [your company] would be better served if they hired people to do this that actually cared to know things instead of just wanting to promote female supremacy.” Her intelligence and the mere fact that she dared to be a woman with a voice on the internet was ripped apart in the comments section.

She went home early, frustrated and demoralized not only by the comments of anonymous trolls, but that when she showed our leadership what was happening to her they again responded, “It’s an open forum. We don’t want to shut down expression, we just want to show them our response.” Almost three years later and the comments are still there, making me shudder to look at and enraged about who had to bear the burden of that “reasonable” response.

This incident is the mere tip of the Internet trolling and discrimination in tech iceberg. I began this piece last year and the recent memo a male engineer circulated at Google proclaiming that more women were not engineers because women were inherently incapable of the type of thinking required for coding and that Google was promoting a culture of “liberal bias” made me think about this story again. Google fired the engineer, but then white supremacists planned rallies in Mountain View, New York, and San Francisco, among other cities, this weekend to “protest” his firing (though fortunately, thousands more anti-racist counter protesters showed up and in most cases the white supremacists didn’t show up at all or quickly retreated).

I think about how the United States’ Troll-in-Chief has enabled and encouraged these more public showings of white supremacy and sexist violence, though this culture of violence and sexism has always been present in American society and in Silicon Valley.

Giant blow outs around harassment and discrimination happen so regularly in the tech world we have started to forget about them. And the culture doesn’t change. Remember how Twitter lost a possible purchase by Salesforce and Disney in 2016 because it is laden with trolls, white supremacists, and misogynists? Already seems like ancient internet history. Remember how Ellen Pao got driven out of Reddit when she tried to remove some of its trolliest elements? How the CEO of Uber had to step down after an unending series of legal and ethical “scandals,” which seem baked into the company’s DNA?

This is not by accident. All of these “incidents” of bias are by design. They are the result of conscious business decisions made by actual people.

Back to my small story above—what I learned on that day was not that the internet was full of nastiness—I knew that from the days of Aol chat rooms—but I saw first hand how our leadership made a distinct decision that privileged trolls over the young women who were our customers and women who were their employees.

Leadership may brush these comments off by “words that can’t hurt you,” but when I saw what happened to L. that day and think about the psychological damage caused by online harassment of outspoken feminists like Lindy West, game designer Brianna Wu, writer and speaker Anita Sarkeesian, and actor Leslie Jones, who have the audacity to think they can express themselves on the internet and have an opinion about comedy, video games, and nerd culture among other topics, I want to hold the companies that allow these behaviors to continue directly accountable.

Companies like Twitter, Google and YouTube, and Reddit are not bastions of democracy despite whatever their lofty missions. We need to remember they are for-profit companies. That means they can fully allow and decide how their platform gets used. As a for-profit corporation they are not a neutral platform. “Well, it’s a slippery slope to start regulating speech, and once you do so you create a dangerous precedence,” the argument at my old company went and seems to go at tech companies in general. Really? Let’s not forget about the “paradox of tolerance” outlined by philosopher Karl Popper and making its rounds on the internet lately – the idea that to create a “tolerant” open society we, paradoxically, must limit intolerance.


Twitter leadership has admitted, and then readmitted, that they “suck” at protecting users from trolling and abuse, especially after extreme harassment temporarily drove Leslie Jones’s from the platform after Ghostbusters: Answer the Call came out last summer. They even went so far as banning “alt-right” aka white supremacist accounts from Twitter (so Troll-in-chief’s hasn’t been deleted how?) post-election. However, these mea culpas fall flat unless a user policy putting user safety first is not only created, but enforced.

From my own experience, it’s unambiguously clear that a comments such as “the internet appreciates your vagina,” calling a YouTube presenter a “retard” and griping about teaching young girls not to be afraid of computers as a promotion of “female supremacy” are not contributing to a productive, or interesting, dialogue about when and how to teach kids to code and how to engage young girls in STEM education.

If companies truly care about making tech more inclusive and diverse, as they claim to by supporting initiatives like Made with Code, they need to step up their user policies, invest in teams that can investigate and block abusive behavior on their platforms, and look hard at how they treat employees who are not white and male. Short of that, they are just protecting their investors, shareholders, and advertisers by keeping account numbers high and privileging harassment and trolling above real user engagement (no surprise).  

There also needs to be a lot more self-examination and investigation of bias, both overt and “unconscious.” The repeated incidents of harassment of women and minorities in tech and in the working world, and the world in general send a clear message: men in power do not want you here, do not want to rethink how they do business, do not want to give up their power.

Tech companies, and companies in general, justify the way they continue to practice discrimination in hiring by using ideas like “excellence” and “culture fit”. Until tech companies are able to have an honest, non-defensive conversation about why more women may work on their Customer Support or Marketing teams (or work cleaning their offices for that matter) than on their technical teams, they are not truly stepping up to create more equitable places to work and products that serve all of their users.

In the meantime, the burden of keeping one’s self safe online and sane at work falls to the most vulnerable communities. The onus is on those targeted by trolling and hate to keep themselves safe. Women and underrepresented groups in tech don’t need more mentoring and empowering programs, we need actual opportunities, fair hiring practices, and companies and products that are designed to protect their most vulnerable users on and offline.


Stick together against hate


activist stickers by aurora lady

“Blue lives matter” read the bubble letters scrawled on a light post in my neighborhood, taunting me on my morning commute.

“Are you f*ing kidding me? In this neighborhood?” I said out loud. To me, this was hate speech. I dug around my bag, trying to find something, anything to cover it up. From my bag’s front pocket I dug out a Grady’s cold brew sticker. Good enough. I peeled the back off and slapped it over the hateful eyesore. Done. “Coffee not assholes,” I mumbled and caught the train.

My neighborhood is one of the most diverse in the United States and is largely Latinx and Chinese immigrants. There is a mural in Spanish, painted on a wall just up the block, outlining your rights if you are stopped by the police.

But I got to thinking: what if I had at the ready, a durable sticker with eye catching design that helped spread a message that reflected my values: pro-immigrant, pro-LGBTQ rights, feminist, and pro-social and racial justice. Since the US election in November there has been a documented rise in hate speech and incidents, especially those targeting people perceived as Muslim or immigrants.

activist stickers

In New York anti-Muslim graffiti was found at the Fort Hamilton Subway stop, there was a widely documented incident of a woman being physically harassed and threatened for wearing a headscarf near 23rd street in Manhattan, and hateful phrases were written in Adam Yauch Park in Brooklyn Heights. These incidents set off protests, a wave of bystander intervention training, and ongoing neighborhood organizing, all of which is crucial. We must stand up and use our voices in every way we can to oppose hateful speech and actions.

activist sticker LA

Right now have to take matters into our own hands to counter hateful graffiti or messages and create a positive, inclusive environment. Stickers are easy to carry, fun to share, and simple and quick to put up. And who better to help create catchy, activist messages than my friend, feminist illustrator, and girl pop visionary extraordinaire Aurora Lady?

To capture the messages we want to help spread we came up with a few phrases: “NYC loves Immigrants,” “LA loves immigrants,” “LGBTQ rights are human rights,” and “Act against hate.” Simple and effective.

activist sticker aurora lady LGBTQ

Great designers have a way of taking your idea and creating a product that is far better than you imagined from it. I was thrilled when I saw the stickers Aurora designed. I had them printed by the pros at StickerMule on weatherproof, matte vinyl that will look as good on your laptop (mine already has an NYC loves immigrants sticker on it) as it will out in the world.

I hope you will join me and help me get the these messages out into the world. You can purchase the stickers from my brand new Etsy shop. Even better, all proceeds after production costs and shipping will be donated to Trans Lifeline, the Arab American Association of New York, and Atlas DIY (a group in my neighborhood working to support immigrant youth). Join the movement to #sticktogetheragainsthate!

activist stickers

Intersectional Feminism or Bust: A guide to being a Nasty Woman in Trump’s America


Driving back to New York from DC after the women’s march I wore my “Capitalist patriarchy is ruining the world and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” shirt. I was exhausted, exhilarated, and wondering what comes next, like so many others who attended. I personally found it, overall, to be an uplifting display of intersectional feminist organizing from the march committee themselves. It was clear that some of the groups around me, young people of color of many genders chanting “Black Lives Matter,” a group of Arab women wearing pussyhats headscarves carrying a sign that read “Teachers Against Trump,” and a band of radical queers, felt fully the march was for them.

Other marchers I’ve talked to have felt like the march was catering to suburban white women who felt accomplished and left a mess for women of color to clean up. There are many realities and interpretations of the march, but what we’ve seen from the new administration post-march demonstrates that, as we knew, the march was just the beginning. We need to stay critical, keep acting, and keep practicing intersectional feminism more than ever.  (If you are interested, I contributed to a great round up of march experiences for Weird Sister if you want to hear different perspectives.) 


But where to next? I started writing this blog post in the late summer of 2016 at a coworkers request that I help her “be more feminist.” At the time I started to compile this list I was naive enough to believe that feminism was a unstoppable cultural force that was reshaping everything from our electoral politics, to the workplace, to popular culture, to reproductive rights, to yes, how we dress with cool t-shirts. None of that masked the deep misogyny, combined with racism and homophobia that runs throughout American culture, but I honestly thought that intersectional feminism as a practice was gaining mainstream traction throughout the country.

Now that misogyny, and all forms of hatred, have been given free reign from the highest office of the country, practicing an expansive, inclusive, intersectional feminism is not only necessary, but imperative. To continue to have a tangible impact, feminism must not be just an identity, but an active practice. It’s a philosophy that guides action.


I am not a perfect feminist. I think the idea of not practicing feminism perfectly stops a lot of people from identifying and aligning themselves with feminism. The beauty of feminism is that it is evolving and my practice of it has evolved as well. For all wondering “where to next” or “How do I keep practicing feminism through these scary times” this list is meant to be an inspiration and a push from a kindred spirit, not a definitive prescription. It is full of ideas that I hope will inspire action both big and small in the days ahead.

Also, quick note here, I do use the term “women” and “woman” throughout this piece, but believe it applies to anyone who identifies as a woman. Feminism can and must be practiced by all genders!

  1. Intersectional feminism is feminism. Notice, acknowledge, and think about the intersections of identities and power. Feminism is not just about gender, or women, but about how identities that hold different levels of power in this society impact you as an individual, different groups of people, and particular spaces. These identities include race, ethnicity, class, gender, sexuality, ability, and religion.
  2. Put your money and time behind your beliefs and values. Volunteer for, donate, support, and spread the word about organizations that support social justice and the causes you believe in and provide necessary services for women and other marginalized groups. Think about organizations that work for reproductive rights (Planned Parenthood!), those that support immigrant women, survivors of domestic violence, and queer people. Support women owned businesses that reflect your values and avoid buying from companies that work against women’s rights.
  3. Act against hatred, bigotry, and violence in all of its forms. It is a feminist act to show up to a march that supports immigrant rights. Know that violence aimed at women, people of color, queer and trans people, and others that hold less power and privilege in society is connected. Support groups combatting hate and building power in these communities. Turn up to protests. Learn the history of violence against underprivileged groups in this country and work to understand how it contributes to the current political climate.
  4. (Especially for white feminists, but applicable to everyone) Feminism is not all about you. While your experience is important it is also one of many and tempered by your identity, power, and privilege. Also, remember that your path in life is not applicable to all women and just because you have succeeded doesn’t mean that sexism and discrimination no longer exists. Get out of your comfort zone and work to listen to, understand, support, and champion the work of feminist and social justice activists who do not have the same background as you.
  5. Listen to women. Believe women. Our culture, legal system, and media actively discounts the experiences of women (and other people in positions where they don’t hold societal power) and saying they are “lying,” “exaggerating,” or “making things up,” especially when they talk about their experience of discrimination or violence. This is also called “gaslighting” – when you deny someone’s experience by saying it is not true or that they are “crazy” until they question it and discount it themselves. The president-elect of the United States does this all the time. Teen Vogue writer Lauren Duca became a minor celebrity after she wrote the piece “Donald Trump is Gaslighting America.”
  6. Reproductive rights are women’s rights are human rights. Abortion is healthcare. Women have the right to choose what they do with their bodies and whether and when they have a child. Full stop.
  7. Trust your gut. If you feel like discrimination “might be” happening to you or to people around you, take it seriously. What kinds of behaviors or language are making you feel that way? Talk to others in a similar situation, are they feeling it too? For example, I used to work at an immersive coding bootcamp where students learn by coding in pairs. Women students approached me asking how to tell if their pair was acting in a sexist manner, such as disregarding their requests or taking credit for their work . My response was always, “If you genuinely feel something it is probably true. Don’t discount it. Listen to, investigate, and potentially act on that feeling.” Learn to trust your own feelings about the things you want (or don’t want) to do and how you want to live your life. If you are not into something (a partner, a job, having a kid, getting married, moving somewhere, a situation) believe in yourself enough to address it and change it.
  8. Speak up. However you do it, do it! Do you witness a colleague getting shut down or talked over in a meeting? Point it out. Do you see or hear something messed up in the news, on social media, at the dinner table? Call it out. Injustice is everywhere right now and it can feel really overwhelming to say and do something about something so widespread when it feels like more terrible things pile on every day. However, speaking up can lead to greater awareness, which can lead to a course of action where you choose your causes based on your experiences and the needs in your community.
  9. Find and build your community, especially offline. This has never been more important. This world is exhausting, but relationships with other people who understand who we are and what we have been and are going through can sustain us. Invest time and understanding in people who will invest time and understanding in you. This isn’t just brunches, mimosas, and “You go girl!” tweets (though those can be great!), but showing up for your friends, talking about the hard stuff, talking about the great stuff, talking about the taboo stuff, and being there for them. It’s about organizing together and actively making the world a better place for each other.
  10. Reach out to women who inspire you. Take the time and risk to tell women you admire that you appreciate what you they do and that it resonates with you. Sometimes I’m intimidated by really badass women, but I try to swallow my fear and tell them what they mean to me. It goes a long way towards building relationships and making others feel like their struggle and work is worth it.
  11. Share your experience. When we share our stories it can validate another woman/person’s experience and help empower them to share their own. As a teenager reading personal zines by other young women (and some men and trans/gender queer identified people) where they boldly shared their stories, thoughts and perspectives I realized that I too, could find my voice as a young, queer, feminist in this world. When we can tell our own stories we realize we have the power to make them.
  12. Read and learn about women and feminist history. Understand the movement(s) that have made up feminism and the history of feminism, especially the Civil Rights movement, which inspired many modern liberation movements. Read bell hooks, Chandra Mohanty, Gloria Anzaldua, and Angela Davis, among many others.
  13. Resist perfectionism and comparing yourself to other women. There is no “perfect” feminist or feminist archetype. We are all learning and struggling. We will mess up and let ourselves and each other down. Learn to be kind to yourself while still being self-aware. Be willing to  forgive others while staying critical of the many ways sexism works its way into our lives.
  14. Be your own best advocate. Always ask and always negotiate. Always. Whether job responsibilities, your salary, a promotion, your book contract, your duties around the house with your partner, family, or roommate. Practice negotiating for what you want and need. Standing up for yourself is not creating a conflict, but opening a conversation and ensuring that you will be able to bring your best self to that situation because you are valued, not disgruntled.
  15. Say no. Set boundaries. Your body, your time, your space, and your emotional energy is yours to do with what you will. (And I don’t care what the #notmypresident of the US thinks about this one.) 
  16. Take care of yourself. Self-care can sound self-indulgent, but if you are exhausted, over-extended, sick, or ungrounded in yourself you will not be able to stand up for yourself or for anyone else. This past summer Jenna Wortham just wrote a piece in the New York Times about the havoc racist violence was wracking on her health and the health of black communities. The toxicity in this world can literally get under your skin. Take care of your health and take it seriously.
  17. Develop a healthy relationship to beauty, fitness and fashion. These industries all thrive off of women’s insecurities about their bodies and the idea that there’s a perfect standard of womanhood that we all have to be constantly reaching and competing with each other to obtain. I firmly believe that fashion and fitness can be sources sources of power when you use them to feel healthy and great about yourself, express who you are, and not to compete with other women for men or society’s attention or approval, but it’s hard to keep that in balance.
  18. Laugh at how stupid patriarchy is. Even though I make the mistake of taking myself way too seriously humor can be great way to help you through a frustrating situation and help illustrate a feminist point. You don’t need to practice stand up comedy to be funny. Patriarchy is so absurd it can be a great relief to point it out and laugh at it.
  19. Know that you determine how you live your life. You never have to get married, be in a relationship, love a certain type or person, get pregnant, or have a child ever. All of these things are absolutely up to you to choose to do or not.
  20. Believe in your own strength and power. You will express that power and act on it in many different ways. Your relationship to feminism and to yourself will change throughout your life and remember, you don’t “arrive” at being a feminist. Feminism grows and changes with you. It is a process you inhabit and in the action that you take.


If you are looking for concrete ways to get involved, here’s a few places to start:

Planned Parenthood Action Network – sign up for their local action alerts and information

Showing Up For Racial Justice – A national network of white allies and individuals working to support racial justice in their communities

The ACLU is working on a broad range of civil liberties issues, including women and queer people’s rights, and in New York City organizes volunteer trainings specifically focused on fighting sexism

In Brooklyn Council Member Brad Lander is spearheading a massive community organizing group called Get Organized BK – there’s a long list of sub-committees you can join to work on issues around social justice that you are the most passionate about

Remember, overall, keep loving, keep fighting, stay critical, practice self-awareness, try something new, reach out, and keep showing up. We need intersectional feminism, and intersectional feminists, now more than ever.



The spinsters are coming! And they’re feminists!

spinster tattoo

Nicole Georges’ knuckle tattoo. Photo by Shayla Hason.

I was raised with the imperative that I build a life for myself. What was a life? I could decide, but my family made it clear to me that my education and establishing a career the were the bedrock of anything I wanted to achieve. When I was in my teens and twenties my mother encouraged me not to focus on marriage or prioritize romance over understanding myself and creating a foundation for my life. “It’s the time for you to explore,” she said. And explore I did.

I finished college, traveled to France, launched a career as a museum educator, went to grad school for public administration, shifted my career to focus on creative business, shifted my career again to focus on tech, played in bands, spoke at SxSW several times, became fluent in French, wrote a book, moved in with a boyfriend and then a few years later broke up with him and started living alone, went to a lot of therapy, built a freelance writing portfolio, and overall became more grounded in myself and understood who I was as my mother instructed. And in my late 20s and early 30s I went to weddings. A lot of them. When I was 31 I attended eight weddings in one year, so many that I adopted a wedding uniform and started to treat traveling to weddings like going on a business trip.

So here I am solidly in my mid-30s wondering “Why ‘it’ hasn’t happened to me,” like it did for all those friends who got married. By “it” of course I mean finding that big love for my big life.

Some days I feel a sense of echoing, lonely isolation that verges on physical pain.

Kate Bolick captures exactly what I feel in her excellent book Spinster when she describes a meltdown she had at the McDowell Colony , “This, I thought, is what it means to be alone. You are solid, intact, and then, without warning, a hinge unlatches, the chimney flue swings open, the infinite freezing black night rushes in, and there is nothing to do but grope in the cold to get things right again.”

I know the right person in my life won’t make the reality of that freezing night go away, but my heart so hopes to find that someone with whom I can face it together, who will give me an extra push of encouragement and warmth, and who will help be an insulation against the subzero windchill of life.

Recent articles I have read all seem to have one thing in common: they are about single women in their 30s and 40s. Given the frequency in which these articles come out lately I start to feel like single women in their 30s and 40s in the United States are part of some kind of pandemic.

However, glancing at the titles and focuses of these articles tells their readers something important: single women (even in their 30s and 40s) are anything but monolithic. Just a sample from my own very biased selection: Where’s My Wife Already; The High Price of Being Single in America; Wealthy Women Can Afford to Reject Marriage, Poor Women Can’t; All the Single Ladies (Kate Bolick’s 2011 piece that inspired her book contract for Spinster); the Dear Sugar podcast series about looking for the one…

Of course I gathered a lot of these articles from personal interest and the fact that many people (across the spectrum of gender and sexual orientation) in my social networks who are sharing them are also single people in their 30s and 40s (and hence the Internet information echo chamber). Really though, nothing makes me feel like my personal angst is insignificant than realizing I am part of a larger demographic trend.

Overall, what I’ve gleaned from all the more self-reflexive toned articles is this: to feel lonely is to be human, so don’t beat yourself up about it; finding love is about luck not work; and focus on creating a “big life” for yourself and to be “that [person] you want to marry” (to paraphrase Glory Steinem and make the phrase gender non-specific). Well enough.

What I don’t hear these podcasts and articles take on is how to truly navigate the profound sense of isolation, exhaustion, anxiety and self-doubt that comes with being single. It’s a huge emotional, and physical effort, to pull myself through the world. Some days I kick myself for ever expecting, or hoping, I would have a fellow traveler along the way to make things a little easier.

Sara Eckel’s excellent book It’s Not You: 27 (Wrong) Reasons You Are Still Single has helped me be kinder to myself and to push away well-meaning but ultimately damaging advice about how “He didn’t deserve you,” “You need to focus on grounding yourself and the right one will come ,” “You need to envision what you want,” “Have you tried online dating?” “You need to meditate/go to yoga” and all the versions of these ad nauseam. Her writing has been a source of strength for me when things get dark.

Maris Kreizman puts a finer, more irreverent point on the terrible advice given to single women in her recent “Unlove Me: I Found Love Because I Got Lucky, Not Because I Changed Myself.” I hope reading this will refute any inclination to tell me, or any other single person, cliche and tepid pieces of advice and chase away the notion that coupled people somehow have it “figured out.” My favorite bit, about the advice to “date like it’s your job,” “Do you have a job that inspires you and brings you joy? Then delight in how wonderful your career is and enjoy it. Do you find your job to be tedious or dead-end or soul-crushing? Then why would you want to take on a whole other job that feels exactly as miserable? One terrible job is more than enough.”

Kate Bolick’s Spinster, an excellent part-memoir, part-literary history, in which she reclaims great “spinsters” and independent women throughout history has also served as a touch point for me as a navigate the road ahead. I enjoyed how she adopted women like activist and author Charlotte Perkins Gilman, New Yorker essayist Maeve Brennan, and poet Edna St. Vincent Millay as her personal guides to help her build a full life as a single woman in her now 40s. Of course reclaiming the idea of “Spinster” has long been a central idea among my group of friends. My friend Nicole got it tattooed across her knuckles in her early 20s. My best friend (and roommate for 7 years) LJ and I made plans to live together again when we were “old spinsters” at the end of our lives.

Many of these articles focus on heterosexual, white, middle-class, educated women, which more-or-less pegs me too. I am one of those who never wanted to have my own children (I’m open to raising children with someone, maybe, but that’s another issue), so the tenure of moral panic around single motherhood and the biological clock frankly bores me. In addition, I’ve noticed the rah rah empowering articles about having and raising kids on one’s own by choice are targeted at wealthy, mostly white, women. There’s a whole other problematic moral panic around children of color raised by single mothers, as is well documented and outside the scope of this particular blog piece.

Speaking of privilege, in so many ways I feel ridiculous writing about this – from the outside I have the definition of that “big life” all these authors encourage as a way to counter feelings of isolation and loneliness. I hold a meaningful job that pays me fairly; a “room of my own” in an apartment of my own to write and build a life the way I envision it; a strong group of friends that I’ve cultivated over the years with whom I take trips, spend holidays, take about all the things large and small; time and desire to travel; the curiosity to meet new people and seek new experiences; and a creative practice I imperfectly nurture despite the stress of city and work life. I also have feminist thought and practice to keep me humble, reflective, and clear eyed.

I feel lucky. And grateful. On good days I feel grounded. But I can’t cover up the fact that I am fucking sad.

“But!” my darling friends and family say listing off my qualities, “You are smart, educated, motivated, positive [hah! Have they talked to me for more than five minutes?], friendly, healthy (except you do eat a lot of pizza), generous, a great conversationalist, an interesting person, with your own apartment…”

Sometimes I think this is perhaps exactly it: I have focused on building solid life of my own because I had to and because I wanted to. I didn’t want to obsess over marriage or finding a partner, but believed that the right partner and I would find each other if I followed my own path. Reflecting on all of this, and the outpouring of thought around single, adult women, I begin to more deeply understand sexism’s subtle perniciousness.

I think that still, in 2016, smart, well grounded women, outspoken with their own lives and careers are still intimidating to heterosexual men. Sexism (and so many other isms) still dictate our most intimate and supposedly personal choices. Especially when our culture, economy, and government policies rewards couple hood at every turn. I would like to see a cultural and policy shift around couples: stop rewarding coupling with lower tax rates, health care, and cultural attitudes that they are somehow more “evolved” and the social bedrock of our society would be a nice first step, but I didn’t set out to write a policy white paper here.

I’ve been in a few terrible relationships, made questionable choices, and learned from them. I have pushed myself to recognize my and my partners’ mistakes and shortcomings and extract myself from toxic situations, which has made me stronger and more decisive. I know when something isn’t working and when a relationship is damaging to me. I am thankful every day I live the life of my choosing instead of having to deal with the chaos, loneliness and darkness that a bad relationship brings. I’ve also dated some wonderful people who have become amazing friends. I’m oddly reverent of the calm clarity that has come with heartbreak.

However, I’m a person who wants to give and share and always imagined I’d find a partner to share with. I’ve staked my life on building community, through punk shows and zine conferences, feminist art and DIY business, tech and creative entrepreneurship. I’ve spend my waking and working hours facilitating and laying the groundwork for people to make meaningful connections that will enrich their business, creative and personal lives. And here I am, a cliche of a single career woman.

I knew that being a feminist and an outspoken woman wouldn’t endear me to many men, but those weren’t the kind of men I wanted to be with anyway. I don’t regret my choices and I certainly can’t and won’t change who I am. There’s no quick solution to the daily grind of loneliness, which sometimes feels so sharp it catches and pricks my lungs like inhaling icy air on a cold January day.

Once when spilling out these woes to my friend A., also an accomplished single lady in her 30s, she pointed out, “Nothing I can say right now and nothing you can do will make you have a boyfriend.” She’s right.

And here’s the thing: I’m not asking you to do anything.

I’m a doer and when it come to matters of the heart there is nothing to do. At the end of the day, after I’ve read all the memoirs, digested all the statistics, listened to all the advice podcasts, reflected on my privilege, identified my feminist icons, pushed myself to build my career, spent time with the friends who sustain me, gotten out there to meet new people and try new things, traveled to rad paces, made time to tell my family I love them, and focused on my own self-care I just can’t help but feel it doesn’t add up to enough to fill what is in my heart.

Where are the women in tech? Right here. And they’re organized and taking over.


Illustrated notes from my talk at ELA Conf

“Not just to find your voice, but helping the woman next to you find hers,” said the organizers of the first ever ELA Conf during their opening remarks. ELA stands for “Empowerment, Leadership, Action” and it was organized by members of Girl Develop It! in Philadelphia this past weekend. This is the prevailing ethos that I have encountered ever since I timidly stepped into my first New York Tech Women meetup over two years ago. Back then I had the vague notion that I wanted to to shift from working in arts nonprofits to working in tech, but only knew about four people actually in the tech field. I felt like such an impostor walking into that first meetup, not knowing anyone. I thought, “No one is going to want to talk with me, I’m just in the arts.” The reaction was quite the opposite. I was welcomed with open arms and people commented that my arts experience was “cool.”

Two years later and I’m speaking at my first tech focused conference (not including SxSW, which I spoke at in 2014 just before I officially started working at a startup). While I’ve done extensive public speaking to artists, creative entrepreneurs and the handmade/craft community, since shifting to tech I’ve done very little speaking that isn’t directly tied to pitching my company. This fall I decided it was time to change that. I was excited about ELA Conf because it was not only offering women a platform to share their knowledge, but teach and encourage each other.

In short, ELA Conf was awesome.

Keynote speaker Saron Yitbarek, the founder of the Code Newbie podcast, talked about the importance of “punching your feelings in the face” when it came to fear around negotiating and asking for more. She reminded us that “Find your your power is a long and uncomfortable journey.” After years of education, work, negotiation, learning not to be afraid of negotiation or conflict (I’m still working on this), and pushing myself towards new opportunities, I can attest that, indeed, honing the ability to stand up for myself and trust that I am worth standing up for has been a long road.

Tracy Osborn, author of Hello Web App and founder of Wedding Lovely, captured a sentiment that I learned the hard way in my career, which is “Don’t wait until you are miserable [in a job] to inform yourself [about what other people at your company or in your industry are making and how much you are worth].” Every speaker was super on point. A panel of female founders talking real talk about how difficult it is to raise money as a woman and how they learned not to undervalue themselves and their businesses. I loved the femme power of Adrienne Lowe, who talked about being your authentic self in your tech talk and in tech, which for her means baking cookies and wearing her best dress.


More great notes from my talk at ELA Conf

This conference resonated with me on a deeper level. Earlier in the fall I was lucky enough to attend the Grace Hopper Celebration of Women in Computing with my company. The Grace Hopper conference is a valuable asset to the tech industry, but aside from meeting the most bad ass game developer ever, Brianna Wu, I found the conference was interesting professionally and from an industry standpoint, but fell flat on a personal level. For me, it’s grassroots conferences like ELA Conf where women working in tech can cut through the corporate hype and forge real connections. ELA Conf I got to get over being star struck and got to forge meaningful relationships with other women in my field. There was also a push to broaden what “women in tech” means, which I felt especially grateful for. As someone who does not work as a developer I do find it interesting that, as Gloria Bell said on a panel about redefining women in tech, “Men who work in tech in non-tech roles still consider themselves ‘in tech.” Many women consider themselves ‘tech adjacent.'” I am completely 100% guilty of perpetuating this disparity and feeling like “the other woman in tech” and I promise that after this weekend I no longer will be.

We met Brianna Wu!

Brianna Wu, my colleagues and I at the Grace Hopper Conference

And what did I talk about? Concrete, tactical steps for leveraging your passion project, whether that’s contributing to open source or making beef jerky or writing, to sustainably enhance your career and help you grow and follow (and feel good about) your own, unique path. This is the path I followed to shoehorn myself into community management and marketing roles in the tech industry and I admit that even though I’ve spoken extensively I felt nervous and asked myself “What do I possibly have to share that has not already been shared?” To my delight, I was welcomed and participants found my talk useful AND hilarious. Amazing. If you are curious, here are my (minimal) slides.

Corinne of GDI and Grow

Corinne, of Girl Develop It! bought a copy of my book, Grow

What this conference really showed me was the power of the personal story and how many women in tech, who come from very diverse backgrounds, also have a lot of common ground, from determination and grit to break into and stay in this field, to learning the hard way how to speak up and value themselves. And for me, I feel like this is exactly why I wanted to be a part of this community and exactly what I hoped to find. A surprising side benefit was that many women came up to me after my talk and told me they were also working in the arts and had similar frustrations about lack of opportunities and the glass ceilings they had encountered there.

While the larger tech world, just like the larger world, is hardly a feminist utopia, it’s awesome to find a pocket of people who have your back and you can have theirs. That’s what motivates me to keep pushing myself forward and learning and growing in my career. It really reinforced my idea that community is power and when you talk frankly about issues and take steps together to be critical and develop strategies to address them things can, will, and must change.

In addition, my whole tech experience has been working with awesome, smart and powerful women. I know this is not the reality in many companies and teams, but if I’ve seen anything at both ELA Conf and Grace Hopper (and the many women in tech and diversity in tech meetups and workshops I’ve been to and sponsored and supported this fall) it’s that if your company feels it lacks gender and racial diversity it is simply not looking hard enough or working hard enough to address cultural issues that keep people from joining or staying. There’s really no excuses. I feel that if the current tech culture doesn’t change it will simply be surpassed. Move over, mainstream, we are awesome, we are organized, and we are the current and future powerhouses of this industry.

And what’s awesome mean anyway? In the words of Chanelle Henry, who gave the closing remarks, “Being awesome is being your authentic self.”

Mad Men, Women at Work and What (Hasn’t) Changed

I’m a casual watcher of Mad Men, and like most viewers, I’ve been drawn into the show’s compelling style, human drama, and a look at a bygone world of advertising on Madison Avenue where people openly smoked, drank hard liquor and let sexist and racist comments fly at work. As modern viewers, we can watch the show and wince uncomfortably and laugh because it’s not really like that any more, right? But for me, a big part of watching Mad Men is actually to see how much remains the same. Time and time again we see that bygone era really isn’t so bygone.

Recently the website Levo League, which is focused on career inspiration and advice for Gen Y women, published an article “9 Career Lessons from the Women of Mad Men” and, thanks to the click bait-ish nature of the title, I found myself drawn in. The article starts off well enough, with good, standard issue advice about asking for more, doing what makes you happy and not just what’s expected of you, and mentoring young women at the office. However, it soon verges into territory that made a more than a few feminist alarm bells sound in my head. The author of the article suggested that valuable career lessons for ambitious young women include, “Learn to play with the boys” (“Keep up and play nice” “plus men are fun!”) and “Dress for success” (“Stop dressing like a girl and start dressing like a woman”). I’m the first person to tell you that fashion communicates a lot about you and it’s important to dress in a way that makes you feel powerful, but I also feel that that is an individual choice. Also, would anyone ever encourage young men who are looking to strive and achieve in their career to “Play nice with the girls?” I don’t think so.

As much as I could spend this blog entry discussing just how problematic these pieces of advice are, this article points to a larger cultural phenomenon: sexism at work is still rampant for women. I touched on this in my last entry about the “feminine bias” in tech just being another way to say that tech is sexist. Mad Men’s run has also corresponded with the years I’ve been seriously focusing on and developing my career. While it’s true that overall women are a greater part of the workforce and that say overtly that women shouldn’t be educated and be in leadership roles is taboo, but the subtle and not-so-subtle sexist attitudes remain.

When I posted my piece about the “Feminine Bias in Tech is Sexism” on Facbeook my network responded that they saw the same thing happen in their workplaces, regardless of industry – and the industries represented by commenters included PR, finance, law, fashion, as well as tech. Sharon wrote, “I feel like every woman who’s been smart and successful and present feminine AND just don’t care about pandering to men would totally relate. It doesn’t matter how far you’ve come if you still get a door slammed in your face at certain levels of power. HAPPENS EVERYDAY.” Aileen wrote, “I work at a fashion company designing graphics for little girls’ clothes. Even though this company is 90% women and makes products geared towards future grown up women, men are ultimately in charge and address us as ‘ladies’ in a condescending way. Makes me sick.”

Two years ago I decided to leave my career in arts administration largely because of these kinds of sexist attitudes. Besides the low salaries throughout the industry, after nearly 8 years working in museums and a respected national artists services organization, I saw again and again that men remained in the top (and top paid) roles despite the accomplishments, credentials, and results of the women working around them, who often made up the majority of the organization’s staff. I would often look around the office at the artists services organization I worked at, surrounded by smart women with Master’s Degrees, years of professional accomplishments, and robust artistic practices, who were doing the hard, daily work of providing the services and delivering the programs that made up the organization’s mission. The office was organized as an open plan, with low cubicle walls, but with offices reserved for all male directors. As I typed away at emails and answered the phone fielding artists’ requests for funding, I thought, “I feel like I’m living in an episode of Mad Man”

I wrote an Op-Ed for the website Artsfwd, more deeply investigating the phenomenon of the glass ceiling in arts leadership and asking what it will take to move past it, and ultimately decided to recalibrate my career to work an industry that, despite its reputation for bad brohavior and ping pong games, is (in theory) less rigid, more innovative, and holds some promise of change. Not to mention better salaries.

I’ve heard other young women I work with claim there is “no glass ceiling in tech.” I think anyone who claims this is willfully closing their eyes. I felt first hand that as I consciously pushed my career forward I hit against it hard. I worked for nearly a decade to carefully gain experience at work, taking on projects and spearheading initiatives, creating results, and documenting them. I built my skills through extracurricular activities (blogging on arts policy, speaking at conferences like SxSW, mentoring younger professionals, working on freelance projects to build my network), getting a master’s degree in Public Administration to round out my skill set, and constantly excelling at work and talking about it in my performance reviews, only to see men around me be promoted while I remained at the bottom of middle management, just above entry level. While all of these things were important to my career (and my life) in the longer term, I saw women around me act similarly to me (and follow the advice we had been told about being assertive professionals) and encounter the same barriers.

In tech I work in a “non technical” role as a Marketing and Community Manager, though there’s a whole lot of science and quantitative skill that goes into marketing. So often women in positions like mine feel their accomplishments are minimized and diminished, in favor of their “technical” (often male) colleague’s achievements. Danielle wrote an awesome piece about this, describing women in these roles as the “other” women in tech. The dichotomy of how technical versus non-technical roles are valued is another discussion, but this is also about how women, working a technical job or not, are treated professionally.

As women I think it’s important to believe and act as if there is no limits to what we can achieve and to push back against anyone and any systems that would limit us. But we have to go further. We can’t just act for ourselves alone, but have to think about how to break this glass ceiling together, whether we work in “technical” or “nontechnical” positions – we’re all here to contribute to building a successful company right? #talkpay on Twitter did a lot to make more transparent how tech and other industries pay and Lauren Voswinkel’s manifesto around it brought the discussion of equality in pay front and center for May Day. This conversation was genuinely “disruptive” in a industry that prides itself on that overused trope. What would be more disruptive would be to see companies that structure themselves in a way that acknowledges and fights historic inequality.

It’s no surprise to those of us who pay attention that the Tech industry, and our culture as a whole, still has a long way to go towards equality. I think what makes a show like Mad Men so smart is that it is not only a exquisitely well researched period piece, but it actually sheds light on how subtle and not-so-subtle sexism still operates today. We wince and laugh at moments where women are routinely shut out and put down in the office environment because it’s still true.

So as you watch this last season, ask yourself, “How is this still true? And how can I help to change it?”

The Feminine Bias in Tech is Sexism

Sweetie Belle, my first new My Little Pony since circa 1989, joins the desk club

Somewhere in all of these memes lies a “woman in tech”

The other day I witnessed a conversation on Twitter where a woman who is a programmer commented on an admittedly girly and light hearted photo I had posted that I was unaware that there was a “feminine bias” in tech. The Tweeter quoted this excellent blog post exploring how the author, a programmer, is taken less seriously at tech conferences and in the tech world because she is feminine presenting than if she were masculine and androgynous presenting. For about two seconds I sat there in a huff and then fired off a note to my empathetic, techie, feminist, feminine coworker, “I think that nothing will help overcome the feminine bias in tech more than more feminine people in tech.”

A long time ago, back in the Riot Grrrl days when I was a teenager, I decided that glamor, femininity and fashion were powerful and could be tools that I could use to communicate my power to the world. Being both feminine and powerful was a way to reclaim power that is taken from women just because they are women. I decided that even if the world was not accustomed to reading feminine presenting people as “powerful” in ways that went beyond manipulative or overly sexual, I knew I was powerful and the world would just have to deal with me seriously, whether I was wearing a dress or jeans. Or a feather boa for that matter (though now my fashion choices tend towards Everlane basics, but I digress).

It's been awhile, but here's some awkward fashion documentation

Just another portrait of a woman in tech

Time out for two seconds: First of all, I don’t think “feminine presenting” needs to necessarily correspond with gender or sex. I am a feminine presenting person who also has a woman’s body and is very comfortable in that (this blog is called Killerfemme, after all), but who also understands that being a cis gendered person, as well as white and middle class, gives me a lot of privilege for how I can move through the world. Okay, that said, let’s continue.

To complain there is a “feminine bias” in tech and then to propose that the solution is to discourage women and anyone else who feels comfortable presenting as feminine from doing so is ridiculous. To propose that a way to reclaim power in a certain field where masculine presenting people are dominant is to play down one’s own femininity is gender policing and, quite frankly,sexism. Depending who the feminine presenting person is, it could also be homophobia or transphobia, and all of this certainly enforces a gender binary and the idea that somehow “masculinity” is more powerful than “femininity.”

If women are going to cut each other down for how they express themselves through clothes, makeup (or lack thereof), hair, shoes, attitude, and voice that’s just reinforcing the sexist cattiness that is expected of women. Solidarity does not mean silence, complicity, or bitchy critique. It means an honest dialogue and supporting people how they feel comfortable expressing themselves and their gender, no matter where on the spectrum that expression falls. In addition, if you are threatened by my skirts and heels, or dirty Converse and tech company t-shirt, I encourage you to examine your own perceptions of what a “woman in tech” “should be.”

The author of the Coding Like a Girl blog post, who goes by Sailor Mercury online (and makes some pretty bad ass zines, btw), discussed how her (male) partners assumed she was wearing dresses and makeup simply to please them. She wrote, “I was wearing them for me. And it was then, that I realized that continuing to wearing dresses just for myself was a totally valid way to say a big FUCK YOU to the patriarchy.” Right on, my sentiments exactly.

In so many ways this conversation so closely mirrors conversations I’ve witnessed and been a part of about “women in rock.” These conversations go on endlessly about how us ladies playing rock’n’roll are supposed  present to be powerful, cool, tough, and be taken seriously as musicians and it just sounds tired at this point. It does matter – do men in bands have to sit around and think carefully about what they will wear on stage so people will understand they are actually there to play music? Unless they specifically performing a certain kind of gender or character, probably not. Do men working in tech think all the time about what to wear to interviews or presentations so they will be taken seriously?

We have more to do than cut each other down and debate about what is the “appropriate” presentation – let’s take an honest look at all our own biases and get on with the real work here – eradicating sexism and injustice from the tech industry and from culture as a whole.

For extra inspiration, here’s a little Riot Grrrl snippet that reminded me that the feminine is powerful if we claim it as such…

(just substitute “girls who write” with “girls who code” for lyrics this song and you’ll get the picture… and maybe we’ll say “We are turning curly brackets into knives…”)