NB: Over two years ago, I affirmed that I wanted to write and share more personal thoughts on my blog. Not only the professional and fully-polished things. Looking back, I haven’t really done that. Being a part-time perfectionist, I get stuck on the production value of the things I make. I feel like I have to get it just right before publishing. I have several unpublished stubs started on my blog (19 as of publishing time, to be precise). However, I have not yet overcome the hesitation of being content with a stub post just being a stub post. After all, if Wikipedia can do it, why can’t I? Furthermore, I can also write for the purpose of my own satisfaction and not the satisfaction of others.

So, here goes.

Me? Not represented? 🔗

After the Inclusion & Diversity summit ended and I returned to my hotel, I entered a thought loop. There was this uncomfortable idea stuck in my head that as a white American male, I didn’t feel represented there. Which depending on your view, either sounds very ironic or it might seem obvious (duh!). However, I did not want to suppress this uncomfortable feeling. I wanted to interrogate it, understand where it came from, and identify why I felt this way.

First, I came to see my feeling of under-representation was not (only) as a white American male—but instead as a privileged ally. Many speakers during the day called out issues in our industry, shared their work as advocates and champions in working to address these issues, or did both. But in our divided and divisive world of the 2020s, a feeling of frustration slowly overcomes me. Never all at once, but more often like the tides of the ocean—slowly rising, rising, until everything is underwater. What are my role and purpose? I care about DEI issues and I have made an effort to do what I can in the last eight years to make Open Source more diverse, more inclusive, and more equitable. I attempt to spend my privilege on others who don’t have the privilege and power that I was assigned at birth.

Noticing the white narrative. 🔗

However, at the same time, I can’t help but feel there is a narrative about people who look like me and come from where I come from. That narrative is white supremacy. The white supremacy narrative can be an integral part of identity to people who also look like me and come from places like I do. The narrative often comes from a place of anger. The narrative is often hateful. That context is understandable because the white supremacist narrative is always harmful to people who do not look like me and come from different places than I do. My daily life is least impacted by the white supremacy narrative.

However, I am not saying that white supremacy is unreal. On the contrary, Western media, news, and opinion articles quickly provide several easy affirmations that a white supremacy narrative holds real weight.

The paradox of the white narrative 🔗

Yet, I feel the narrative is also the exact problem. Does a white supremacy narrative override other narratives that a white person could relate with? I remembered a time when I took a History of Women in Science & Engineering course during my undergrad studies. While discovering hidden stories in history of accomplishments, struggles, and successes of women in STEM over hundreds of years, I was also intrigued to read about the allies who helped them. The allies I read about were white men who spent their privilege as sponsors to many of these early women innovators. They shared their own resources and enthusiasm as an act of asserting both the value of the women they supported and the work they did.

It was doubly sad to me that history relegated several of these stories to the sidelines, both the stories of these women innovators and the stories of their allies. These stories of early allies are under-represented because most often, they are simply not told.

No savior complexes. 🔗

At the same time, an alternate narrative to white supremacy must also not be a savior complex or white savior-ism narrative. True allyship does not look like a savior complex. The historical view could easily jump toward a conclusion with a savior complex narrative. There are no saviors; the only one we can truly save is ourselves. We can support, mentor, and sponsor, but there is no magic, quick solution that makes everything better.

In today’s world, I feel that healthier narratives are also not well-represented. I strongly believe in words that I attribute to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.:

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Today in the United States, white supremacy is going more mainstream (again). It is also one of the most visible narratives of White identity. This begs a question of how do we influence the narrative and also inspire what a better, healthier “whiteness” can mean? How do we promote stories of transformative love, incredible allyship, and true compassion? There are many stories in history if you look closely. But often they are relegated to the periphery and cast aside, alongside the experiences of other white people who fit outside the societal power structure of White society. We need these stories told too, should we create a more equitable society that allows everyone to realize their innermost human potential.

Where do we go from here? 🔗

I write this without full answers. My motive to write is because this thought comes up from time to time for me. Sometimes I just long for better role models. I want a society where more white people lend their support and power for dismantling hate and destruction. I want more white people who use their privilege and power as superpowers for love and justice. A future default narrative for whiteness should not feature pain and center hate. This is in spite of what is an undeniable part of the legacy and history. Yet that is the heart of it. I want the mainstream narrative to change. I want us to take real steps toward reparation to atone for that legacy and history.

But it is like they say, “it is hard to be what you can’t see.” Sometimes I feel exasperated by the narrative staring back at me and my ancestry. My identity as a white American man is bound by nature of my birth. But perhaps instead of waiting for the right story to be written, perhaps this is my own action item. I should be better at writing my own story. The only person I have to do it for is myself.

Photo by Rishabh Dharmani on Unsplash. Modified by Justin Wheeler.

While I was pondering this reflection, my employer announced layoffs a couple weeks ago. While there is a lot that could be said about that, what I will say is that a certain root was pulled; the foundation of trust built between leadership and employee was shaken. Only further action and time will show the full impact on the company and my remaining colleagues. Nonetheless, a very recent negative experience with regard to trust also expanded my perspective of how trust is defined and what its role is in a community.

Brené Brown on trust 🔗

Later, I came across a sound bite of an interview with Brené Brown about trust (and more). Toward the end of the interview, she talks about her book, Braving the Wilderness (which I haven’t read, but seems interesting). She explained what the wilderness is and a tool that we can keep with us (“BRAVING”) to stay grounded in ourselves and also what trust means.

She also had a powerful definition of belonging, which put forward the idea that belonging is internal to ourselves and even is a spiritual practice; belonging is not defined externally or given to and taken from us by others.

Below is my summary of “BRAVING” and the wilderness, together with notes and thoughts about how community leaders can act honestly and authentically, both when times are good and when times are hard.

Trust: Remember “BRAVING” 🔗

There are seven elements to building, developing, and measuring trust. Each of these seven elements are a resource for being honest, authentic, and genuine in both easy and hard times. You can remember these seven elements as an acronym: “BRAVING”.

B: Boundaries 🔗

You set boundaries. When you don’t know what they are, you ask. You are clear about what is okay and what is not.

R: Reliability 🔗

You do what you say and you say what you do. The hard thing is that you are not hustling for worthiness, so you are not completely over committing and not delivering.

A: Accountability 🔗

You don’t back channel and blame. You hold people accountable in a straightforward way.

V: “Vault” 🔗

You do not use stories that are not yours as social currency. You keep them in “the vault.” Using others’ stories as a bid for connection causes others to trust you less. This is the other side of confidentiality.

I: Integrity 🔗

You choose courage over comfort and practice your values. You choose what is right over what is fun, fast, and easy. Your accomplishments stand out when you operate from a place of discomfort, or outside of your comfort zone.

N: Non-judgment 🔗

You can ask for help without feeling judged. I can ask for help without judging myself.

G: Generosity 🔗

When something happens, you assume positive intent. Give someone a chance, or the benefit of the doubt, before launching into anger.

Braving the wilderness 🔗

What is the wilderness? It is those times when we stand alone, the times when we go out on a limb, the times we walk away from what we know in our ideological bunkers and beliefs.

“BRAVING” is a tool to help us manage the wilderness. There will be times when standing alone feels too hard, too scary, and we’ll doubt our ability to make our way through the uncertainty. Someone, somewhere, will say, “Don’t do it. You don’t have what it takes to survive the wilderness.” This is when you reach deep into your wild heart and remind yourself, “I am the wilderness.”

Photo by Artem Sapegin on Unsplash. Modified by Justin Wheeler.

My brief readout is a guided reflection using questions shared by Matt Germonprez. This reflects my review of our work as a team to date and also shares some of my hopeful outlooks for what our amazing team can accomplish together. This readout will cover (1) our accomplishments as a team, (2) what was expected and surprising, and (3) what we could change in the next year.

CHAOSS accomplishments & learnings 🔗

Three achievements and aspirations stand out over the past year:

1. Established process management and a team workflow.
2. Created a small but active Community of Practice (CoP).
3. Sharing our results with CHAOSS and the Open ecosystem.

Processes & workflow 🔗

For direct participants of the team, the Ford Foundation funding did not come with strict requirements or success metrics. As we assembled our team, we were given the discretion of how to conduct a D.E.I. review for the project and determine the best course of doing that. This allowed for creative freedom to figure out what would work best for CHAOSS. Additionally, I could not identify a straightforward way to discover other Open communities and projects doing our kind of work. Since there were also not many other known successful models to follow, we combined our shared experiences across multiple Open communities to build our team, identify main areas of focus, and engage the community around our efforts.

This is an achievement because we collectively created an active group that makes incremental, positive changes to CHAOSS. This is a model we could share with other projects so that others can learn from our experiences.

Community of Practice 🔗

Our team is a small but engaged group of D.E.I. practitioners. We share a connection through our ongoing review of the CHAOSS Project, but we also give and take from our own personal experiences outside of CHAOSS. Our group regularly meets and discusses complex, difficult issues that are both (a) not easy to discuss openly and (b) applicable to many communities beyond only CHAOSS. Our team meetings are a safe space that promotes honest and constructive discussion centered on diversity, equity, and inclusion. In addition to our recommendations and direct efforts with CHAOSS, I often reflect on our conversations as a team when working with other Open communities. An example of this is how we built a list of questions to get a “pulse” from the community on their feelings about CHAOSS.

Sharing results with CHAOSS and beyond 🔗

This is aspirational and not yet fully realized. Our team has collected a solid portfolio of stories and experiences that other communities would stand to benefit learning from. I consider this a current achievement because while our work does specifically look at CHAOSS, we also often reflect from a general perspective and how a topic of interest might look in other communities. When the time comes to package our findings, I believe we are setting ourselves up for easier messaging and outreach opportunities in the future.

According to expectations 🔗

While I have worked in Open Source D.E.I. communities since 2015, I have never conducted an applied research review for community D.E.I. before. I did not come into this with strong immediate expectations because it would inevitably reflect the backgrounds and strengths of the team we would assemble. However, I did have specific hopes or things I hoped would be realized by this work.

As expected 🔗

• Data-driven approach: We began this work without a strong representation of the state of CHAOSS. What do contributors think about the project? While data is not a universal panacea, we gravitated to a community survey early on because we needed to understand the community experience better first before making serious suggestions.
• Time zones are hard: Our team was spread out across North America, Africa, LATAM, and Europe. Additionally, the work with CHAOSS was also a part-time venture for most of us, in addition to primary employment. Calendars and schedules are hard to get right. Since our team’s organization was ad-hoc, momentum would occasionally slow for some periods.
• We have an amazing team! I expected great things once we identified our roster. We have also had more amazing people join us over time and add new passion and insight to our focus as a group.

Surprises 🔗

• Documenting our impact is not always intuitive: While we have done internal storytelling work within the CHAOSS Project, we do not have a good record of our achievements to date. Our linear progression does not lend itself easily to self-reflection and recalibration. Although much of our focus is on the CHAOSS community survey and CHAOSS Africa, we also facilitated several other notable achievements in the project in the last year. See the following examples:
  • Supporting the establishment of a Code of Conduct Committee.
  • Community office hours for newcomers.
  • Improved, peer-to-peer onboarding experience in CHAOSS.
  • Increased efforts in CHAOSS mentored projects (e.g. Outreachy and GSoC).
  • Recommending changes to the project and community, like broader localization to Chinese & Spanish and establishing a D.E.I. council.
• Losing and regaining steam on the survey: Although the community pulse survey was one of the earliest tasks identified in our work, launching a first survey proved to take a lot of resources from the team. We briefly stalled out on the survey effort while focused on other areas (like listed above). While our team was able to achieve many smaller victories for CHAOSS with low-hanging fruits, it took a sustained focus and slowdown on new topics to achieve larger contributions like the community pulse survey.

Changes for the CHAOSS team next year 🔗

Looking ahead to 2023, I hope to strengthen our efforts as a team in these areas:

1. Packaging our work
2. Dissemination of our work

Packaging 🔗

Our work stream was linearly ordered and we took a forward-looking approach. Now is a good time to look back and reflect on our results to date. What are our key findings and observations? What suggestions will we make to CHAOSS? How could other communities learn from our experience running this review? One task for us as a team is to identify key messages and themes so that dissemination into broader domains is possible.

Dissemination 🔗

Once we package our work, notes, and reflections, we should take an active approach to disseminating and sharing our work. This includes both the CHAOSS Project and a more general audience. For the CHAOSS Project, this could be a written report, presentations to the CHAOSS board, speaking at CHAOSScon, and outreach to the multiple Working Groups. For a general audience, this could include speaking at industry conferences, sharing our work with other Communities of Practice, social media, or other ways of promoting our deliverables.

I am opposed to the impact of Export Administration Regulations by the United States as it pertains to free and open source software. I am a strong believer that the impact of these regulations are most harmful to all free & open source software communities at an individual, human level. When I saw this discussion at the Fedora Council level, it offered me an opportunity to reflect on my own feelings about these regulations, and also to share an opinion on how I believe Fedora Linux could truly live up to its certification as a Digital Public Good to ensure a more equitable world.

Here is what I wrote to the Fedora Council, and perhaps also to anyone reading from Red Hat’s legal team:

Hi, I would like to add a counter-opinion, of course one that holds no weight as an official vote.

As Fedora Linux is forced to this decision by its relationship to its legal sponsor, Red Hat, I therefore believe it is also the responsibility of Red Hat to seek a solution that does not deny an individual their right to realize the Four Freedoms of Free Software on the basis of geography or citizenship.

I recognize no policy is being changed here. It is a deliberate clarification of rules that were always in effect. Yet this ticket opens the context behind the policy for greater scrutiny, and I posit the context is harmful both to the Fedora Project and to Red Hat.

This policy is harmful for diversity and inclusion, and compromises Fedora’s position to be an innovative platform built by a global community. The U.S. laws and regulations driving this decision exist within a specific context, but that context is grossly incompatible with the dynamics of inclusive Free & Open Source communities. In practice, these laws and regulations deny individuals (really, other human beings) of their ability to be a beneficiary of the open licenses we employ for creating our work, collaborating on it together, and sharing it with others.

I see two outcomes of accepting this as an unchangeable norm.

Firstly, it creates confusion, doubt, and feelings of ill intent. These laws and regulations are meant to impact governments and nation-states. In a Free & Open Source community such as ours, these regulations impact individual people. Not governments or nation-states. As an example, a Fedora community member, Ahmad Haghighi, was recently permanently removed from the Fedora Community. In a few quick clicks, Ahmad’s legacy in the project was erased. As a precedent, even if someone’s contributions were not “supposed” to be accepted in the first place, it does not sit well with me that any one person’s legacy of contributions can so easily be removed from project records.

Secondly, it challenges the vision and foundations of the Fedora Project. Particularly our vision statement and the Friends Foundation. When I contribute to the Fedora Project, I do not see people as a citizen of this-country or that-country. I see them as my peers and fellow Fedorans, helping meet that shared vision of creating “a world where everyone benefits from free and open source software built by inclusive, welcoming, and open-minded communities.” As an American citizen, I know my country makes such discriminations about large groups of people based only on their nationality, but as a contributor to Free & Open Source communities, I see people by their individual character and intention to be a part of our shared vision. But how can we truly aspire to this vision if we are consciously making deliberate exclusions, even if they make little to no sense in our own context? This geographic restriction policy sits in contrast to the vision and purpose we spell out “on paper”.

I understand why Fedora leadership is taking this action due to Fedora’s legal and sociopolitical relationship to Red Hat, an American incorporation subject to American laws and regulations. To an extent, the hand of Fedora is forced.

But I believe this is a great opportunity for Red Hat to be an enabler of Fedora’s First Foundation. Previously, Microsoft stood up for Iranian developers and successfully set a precedent about how the United States Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC) treats such cases. I found this excerpt from Nat Friedman’s announcement to resonate:

Over the course of two years, we were able to demonstrate how developer use of GitHub advances human progress, international communication, and the enduring US foreign policy of promoting free speech and the free flow of information. We are grateful to OFAC for the engagement which has led to this great result for developers.

Advancing developer freedom: GitHub is fully available in Iran - github.blog

I believe Red Hat’s legal team should take a stand for individuals in embargoed countries to remain a beneficiary of the free and open source licenses that enable a community Linux distribution like Fedora to exist in the first place.

After all, in Fedora, we are well-known for being first in the Open Source space for innovative new ideas and approaches. We know Fedora Linux is a digital public good that should be accessible to all and everyone. But to make this a reality, the Fedora Project cannot be first here on its own. We need our friendly primary sponsor, Red Hat, to help us clear this burden, which is brought on by our connection to Red Hat in the first place.

I’ll close this counter-opinion with an excerpt from our First Foundation:

“However, the Fedora Project’s goal of advancing free software dictates that the Fedora Project itself pursue a strategy that preserves the forward momentum of our technical, collateral, and community-building progress. Fedora always aims to provide the future, first.”

From What is Fedora all about?

Here is a chance to be clear on the future we want to provide and for whom.

Background photo by Omid Armin on Unsplash.

Accommodations move us closer to equality but not equity. The presence of accommodations implies a belief in an “us” and a “them”. One group benefits from default inclusion, while another group either raises a collective voice, or is de-facto excluded. Instead of designing our world for others different than ourselves, we must design our world together. It is a quicker way to achieve a more just world.

The “abled” community needs to challenge our perspectives and do our share of the learning required to see things from another perspective.

An example I saw from Twitter that made an impression on me was how someone explained the idea of combinations and permutations of the five human senses: sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. The commonly-held belief is that lacking one (or more) of these senses leaves you deprived. Without one of these senses, your potential is limited and you deserve to be pitied.

Multi-sensing > accommodations 🔗

So, what does it mean to be multi-sensing? Most of us see our five senses (sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch) as a fixed state of sensory stability. These senses and basic mental stability are socially-assumed as always present. They define how we individually experience life.

Often those lacking one or more of these senses are seen as deprived. They are perceived as missing something or to have lost something they can never fully regain. The absence of a human sense comes with the added psychological burden of living in a world where you are often the afterthought, the “new use case”, the countless trials of countless beta versions of any kind of software that might help overcome the disadvantage of “missing” a sense or mental disability.

I suggest an alternative way to design for accessibility and inclusivity. A personal deviation is not written off as “missing” something, but instead as a new combination of senses gained. Designers should assume an expected and guaranteed variable of this new combination. Accessible design must be a first-class citizen in early project management planning.

To put it another way, observe the presence and lack of senses among us as a matrix of combinations, instead of large swathes of characteristics assumed to always be present. We unlock the best of our design knowledge to think in the pursuit of access to the greatest many instead of “what ticks off the box”.

Before, we saw an accommodation as when a specific feature is added to software for someone lacking one or many senses. But we must shift from accommodations to full inclusion. Accommodations are acknowledgements of disability. It assumes a fixed state where a set of critical features to guarantee usability will always lag behind for a subset of people. True equality is seeing access for those with disabilities as equal to the design of features for those with five active senses.

Featured image photo by Matthew T Rader on Unsplash.
Modified by Justin Wheeler.

I don’t say that casually either. I have involuntarily found Open Source as my calling. Or my people. I contribute to Open Source because I love to collaborate and work together with other people. This challenges me. It humbles me in a way that I know I can always learn something new from someone else. For this, Open Source and Free Software have enriched my life. They have also given me, again involuntarily, an odd but productive way of coping with my own mental health issues, anxiety, and depression.

So how do I make sense of the emotions and feelings I have now? How do I untangle this complicated web of events and reactions by other people? To ignore it doesn’t seem possible. If I remove emotion, I am left with a purely rational motive to involve myself in this contemporary issue. My work, profession, and career goals are directly affected by however this discussion goes. There is no way out for me. It’s my job, so I have to care. But if you add emotions back in, to stand still and remain idle is heartbreaking. To do nothing is to commit to defeat. Resignation. The darkness.

Yet what is there to do? The only thing Stallman ever directly gave to me in life was an email explaining elegantly how there was nothing he could do for the Minecraft GPL community fiasco. At a time when I was so personally lost as I saw a community I love tear itself apart, he stood by idly as the so-called steward of these licenses that I was just too naïve to believe in. That experience to me now is amplified in the light of the much more egregious things he is accused of.

So, the Free Software Foundation welcomes Richard Matthew Stallman back to its board. Wonderful. Congratulations Mr. Stallman. I am going to pause for a moment of sadness and hurt as I contemplate the impact of this moment on our fragile movement, which has much bigger enemies today than it has in its 40 year legacy. But then…

I will move on. Because we have to. The only way is forward.

This blog post was first written on August 28th, 2020.

Today is a sad day. Chadwick Boseman is dead. At 43 years old, he lost a terminal battle with stage IV colon cancer. As his great light dims, I am left to wonder what loss will happen next in 2020.

But like the ashes of a phoenix, we will rise. His death reminds me of the fierce urgency of now, as said by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. That in the moment of darkness that follows death, a new bright light will emerge. It is just so human for us to cling to the embers of hope, in the fear that we will one day be delivered from suffering.

Boseman was a social leader and source of inspiration for many. His life and many roles championed racial equity on the Hollywood screens. Boseman was passionate about what he did. He led a committed life.

Boseman’s death caused me to reflect on the definition of Freedom in the movement I am embedded within: the Free Software movement. Yet in this community I value, there are seeds of discontent. The fierce urgency of now has revealed that systemic social injustices continue to exist in our society, as they have for centuries. The generational question we must answer as witnesses to this moment is: will we continue to tolerate the systemic faults within our society? Or must we imagine a more fair society? A more just society? I know we can because we have to.

On the origins of Software Freedom 🔗

A background on the Software Freedom movement is helpful to understand this discourse on freedom.

Free Software is a social movement born in the 1980s in North America. In the beginning, it was mostly a set of ideals and values set forth by MIT computer scientist Richard Stallman. Stallman witnessed a dramatic shift in how the free market distributed software in the 1980s. Previously to then, software was usually trivial; an afterthought. Software was freely shared between companies, universities, and individuals. Part of this is to blame on the industry’s intent focus on hardware during the Cold War. At the time, there was no standardization to hardware development, so software source would have to be rewritten to compile on different hardware architectures from competing vendors. However, this mindset eroded in the 1980s. There were a few lead architectures at the time, mostly championed by Intel. Software had to be compiled less often. Now, this freely shared source code could be repurposed much more easily.

At this point, the software industry went mainstream. Software began to receive acute focus by companies with computer science talent. Talent needs moved beyond hardware. Stallman saw all this, and believed the shift was at a great loss to the personal freedoms of the individual. So he coined “Software Freedom”, and a movement formalized.

With that background, the word “Freedom” has a specific, coded meaning to people who believe in the principles of Software Freedom. Software Freedom protects a set of digital rights that the movement leaders first advocated for in the 1980s and 1990s. The Four Freedoms (to use, to study, to share, to improve) are entrusted to the individual user of a computer system.

Freedom in 2020 🔗

However, it is 2020. Not 1985. Not 1991. 2020.

Questions about what Freedom means could never be more removed from the context of right now. Software Freedom asserts rights fully-realized by participants in the new digital society. Yet billions of people on Earth remain unconnected to the Internet. How can you realize rights that were never accessible to begin with?

Even if you are participating in digital society, freedom to read source code and make changes to it are just one of many different examples of freedom. But what other definitions exist?

The freedom to be safe asleep in your home without being gunned down by those entrusted to protect you.

The freedom that your children may live in a world where they may realize their fullest potential.

The freedom to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

In comparison, the freedom to read the source code of the web browser that keeps crashing on an unsupported device does not practical value to people who have different questions in the pursuit of freedom.

Reconciliation and intersections 🔗

But surely there is somewhere we can reconcile these different definitions of freedom. They may conflict at times but they are not in opposition to each other. There must be a way to realize both the freedoms of the individual to live a better life, and the freedoms of witting or unwitting participants in a digital world governed by increasingly invisible hands.

The intersection is surprising. Before identifying it, it is important to understand its purpose. The purpose of the intersection of these two definitions of freedom is to unify and empower people to be in control of their own destinies. Our destinies and futures are influenced but not entirely controlled by our environments. Both types of freedom believe in the right of the individual to understand the ways a system works, in order to understand how the system impacts them.

Said simply, the purpose is inclusion. The purpose is to bring together. The purpose is to empower. The purpose is give individuals the tools to shape their own destinies.

The name of this intersection is digital intersectionality.

Digital intersectionality makes inclusion a first-class citizen. It must take an intersectional approach from the outset if it is to accommodate the hyper-globalized world we live in. Albert Einstein once reflected in a letter to schoolchildren in Japan about his great delight in being able to communicate across such distances—something that was unheard of at the time. It is a cute memory, but also emphasizes the ways the world has changed since the most widely-known events of human genocide. Digital intersectionality has no borders. Its borders are decentralized; its borders may or may not have nationality. Copper wire, fiber lines, satellite receivers; these are the conduits that digital intersectionality resides in.

Digital intersectionality must be about inclusion. Digital intersectionality by definition must always be intersectional. Digital intersectionality must always consider the role of the individual in contributing to healthy, collective society. Digital intersectionality must embrace love.

What now? 🔗

Chadwick Boseman is gone. But we are not.

We are in the same world. Breathing the same air. Living under the same sun, and the same stars. As I see the void and grief left behind in his wake, as I look around me in a global pandemic that places the heaviest burdens on those with the most to bear, as I continue to see the effects of unjust systems perpetuate, I am thinking more about my own role in shaping the world we must create.

So I will continue to advocate and celebrate both freedoms, software freedom and inner freedom, under the mutual banner of digital intersectionality.

Special thanks to my early editors!

Grief is a strange emotion. One text message read early in the morning can send your day into a long walk down the beach of your own memories. Memories flood back, making us conscious that these lost moments of time were never really lost to us, but locked under deep layers of interlocking memories and contexts that only had to be connected back together, like a broken circuit. Today, my memories and heart are on my former summer camp roommate and friend Hannah/Honor Loeb. (I knew her as Hannah in her life, but at time of death, she identified as Honor, so that is the name I will use for this post.)

When I think of you, Honor, a mixed spectrum of emotions comes over me.

First, I feel selfish for making a post that is probably as much for me as it is for you. A great irony in death are the many interpretations of an explanation it brings. It is impossible to know exactly how the deceased would wish for their death to be remembered, because they are not present. Yet those who were connected to the deceased also experience their own spectrum of emotions. Perhaps it is human for us to make the death of someone else about ourselves, where we become included in the attention that death brings. But perhaps it is also the natural experience of how we process grief and trauma, in that making someone else’s death about us, it affords us the privilege and opportunity to reflect on the meaning of their life, and how we will continue to live our life in light of their absence.

Second, I feel happiness and joy. I remember my first experience living together with you as roommates at the Duke University Talent Identification Program at the University of Georgia. I remember the trips from Georgia to Alabama to visit and stay with your family. I remember the time you showed me Battlestar Galactica for the first time, and staying up with me to watch episode after episode. Even though you had probably seen these episodes countless times before. I remember the warm sunny mornings in Montgomery when we would go out for breakfast and we would talk about life. I remember when at the end of every meal out, I never had a choice of whether I would pay for myself or not.

Third, I feel guilt and shame. I remember being afraid to invite you to my home in Georgia, because my home was not a safe place then. I remember when you drove from Ithaca to visit me in Rochester, and you let me interview you as a member of the trans community for a class assignment. Then, months later, I remember not replying to your texts, missing your calls, and always putting off invitations to meet. I remember seeing our lives slowly drift apart, and how I felt powerless to do anything about it. Even if the powerlessness was imagined. I remember not knowing how to help you with your emotional burdens when I was still figuring out how to carry my own experiences and traumas. I remember the random times in my life where you did come across my mind, unprompted. In those moments, I thought of all I learned from you and how you lived in life. In those moments, I remember hoping you were well, but I also remember my fear and hesitation about reaching out to you after so long. I remember consciously deciding not to try the phone number or the email I had saved for you from 2013. Maybe your contact info changed eventually. But maybe it didn’t. I’ll never know.

Today, I learned that you passed away. You are dead. I will never get to see your smile, I will never get to hear your voice, and I will never get to have a warm hug with you again. These are all hard truths that I must acknowledge. Like I said, grief is a strange emotion. We all handle and process grief in unique, personalized ways that reflect our life experiences. For me, I have to define and understand the losses of this experience in order to practice gratitude and appreciation for the positive moments and experiences we shared.

The end of a life is never black-and-white. As you always exemplified in being a powerful trans voice from the socially-conservative state of Alabama, a binary understanding of complex social issues is rarely sufficient. Experiencing my grief from the end of your life is a wide spectrum of emotions because your life spanned several different emotions. Instead of categorizing my different emotions into their categorical boxes, I am allowing them to all wash over me. The happiness, the joy, the sadness, the anger, the selfishness, the guilt, and the shame. I know I cannot deny any of these emotions because they are all a part of you.

I have to accept these emotions as feedback to what your life means to me in this moment. I appreciate the great ways you expanded my mind and taught me to see the world differently. I lament the ways I let our connection fade and sputter, and that the last significant moment I have to connect with you is in your death. From what you taught me as a teenager, I began to see beyond the binary belief instilled in me from my youth. From what you taught me as a young adult, I know that how we carry our relationships, friendships, and love throughout life is always in some part our own responsibility.

When reading the news of your death, I have to be honest with myself. A part of me was not surprised or entirely shocked by this news. In a world where queer and trans folk are often treated as second-class humans, the pandemic of mental illness and suicide are undeniable in LGBTQ+ communities. I don’t understand how I feel even now to learn that your death was from a “non-COVID infection”. You fell sick. To what degree this infection inflicted pain upon you, I don’t know. All I know is, the path in life I followed brings me to this point where the first thing I hear about you in a number of years is your death.

Part of me knows I cannot assign myself blame for these circumstances. I know I alone cannot wear all blame because we live in an interdependent world, where every effect and outcome is linked by several smaller causes. But if only for myself, I have to acknowledge what my role is in your life and how I will choose to continue my life in the knowledge that yours ended too soon. I acknowledge that I probably played differing roles in your life, sometimes a loving friend, and sometimes an apathetic jerk. But again, life is often not so binary, not in life nor in death. I only hope that if you had the opportunity to read this, you would be able to forgive me for the ways I wronged you in your living life, and for you to know how much I really did love you.

I never intend to adjust myself to injustice.

“I’m proud to be maladjusted.” https://t.co/TFBiWBy6Xc

— Be A King (@BerniceKing) December 12, 2019

Use alt tags for Markdown images 🔗

Often an embedded picture in Markdown looks something like this:

![Screenshot_2019-06-14.jpg](https://example.com/Screenshot_2019-06-14.jpg)

When you render the Markdown, you see your picture. However, you don’t see the Screenshot_2019-06-14.jpg string. You might wonder what its purpose is or why bother changing it at all. But imagine for a moment if instead of seeing your picture when you rendered your Markdown, you only saw Screenshot_2019-06-14.jpg where your picture should be. Screen reader users often encounter this problem.

So instead, describe your Markdown image so a person that uses a screen reader can also follow the conversation:

![A flowchart describing how user data flows from a publisher, to a proxy, and to a group of subscribers](https://example.com/Screenshot_2019-06-14.jpg "A flowchart describing how user data flows from a publisher, to a proxy, and to a group of subscribers")

It takes an extra few seconds of your time, but it is one small way you can help make a better Internet for everyone.

P.S. – The text wrapped in quotation marks between the parentheses adds the title HTML attribute to your image, so the text appears as a tooltip when you mouse over the image. The more you know!

Photo by Roman Kraft on Unsplash