WorthyOnTheWeb

I didn’t manage to do anything I’d planned to do today because my executive function decided to officially give me the finger and wheel spin out of the car park, which left me unable to do anything useful. I have spent most of my day grumpy and angry with myself, so tonight I decided to try and do something semi-productive by finishing one of my many draft blog posts. Whether spouting boring gibberish on the internet is going to help or not remains to be seen, but it seems like a fairly harmless way to take my mind off things.

Over the last few months I’ve been trying to rearrange some rooms in my house. In theory the task involves clearing out some stuff and moving some other stuff. It sounds quite straight forward, but it’s not. It should be, but it’s not. It involves some decluttering and decluttering leads to – well firstly drafting blog posts when you should be decluttering and secondly it leads to work that is physically and mentally draining.

Our house contains too much stuff and reducing the volume of stuff is a big ugly job. I have been a yo-yo declutterer for most of my adult life. I’ve never been on a diet but I am constantly planning my new slimmed down life with less possessions instead of kilograms. For our family there is also an issue created by fake tidying. Fake tidying is when somebody decides to clear an area by scooping things up and dumping them in a bag, box or laundry basket and putting them “out of the way” The problem with fake tidying is that none of the things are actually put where they belong. Old newspapers, the gas bill, an empty crisp packet, a letter from school, 3 CDs, an MOT certificate and a phone charger could easily end up in the same carrier bag.

Decluttering isn’t always a problem, for me it often is and most of that is due to the volume and the fact that, despite what my family think, I’m not the only person in the house generating the clutter. Interestingly I didn’t notice this until I started trying to get rid of things.

I like stuff. I like buying stuff, I like owning stuff, I have no desire to go minimalist but at present along with the things I want to own, is an additional 25 – 50% of things I don’t. It seems fairly straightforward just get rid of the stuff you don’t want but there are two big problems with getting rid of the unwanted percentage. Firstly the rest of my household and their refusal to part with things (yet somehow I’m the horder) and secondly that the things I want to get rid of are intermingled with things that I want and in some cases, need to keep. So that involves going through stuff and that’s the bit that can be a challenge. Over the years I’ve developed little systems to help keep track of special documents. I always know exactly where my passport and driving licence are but I will have a very serious problem if I need to show anybody my birth certificate in a hurry.

Manuals for household appliances I no longer own are easy to get rid of, but I’m the sort of person that keeps hold of wires because the chances are that the device it belongs to is probably still here somewhere. Unfortunately I’m also the sort of person that says things like “that’s a good box” and saves things for best, so I definitely have a bit of work to do.

Having fought the clutter many times (without ever truly winning) I made an executive decision not to do any more huge clear outs. I don’t have the time or the patience, so I just go through a box or a bag, as and when I’m in the right mood or the box is in my way.

Going through clutter that has accumulated over a number of years is essentially a way of reliving your past life which triggers memories both good and bad. Whilst I’ve been wading through boxes I’ve come across an assortment of paper clutter, some nice, some not so nice and some that you had absolutely no idea were still in the house. In the last few months I’ve found mobile phone bills from One 2 One and payslips from my days as a Postal Cadet.

Childhood Artwork

My mum wasn’t really an art on the fridge type of person, so anything I drew at home was kept for while and presumably binned. When I was a kid I drew constantly and often made art in school which teachers stapled to those giant boards primary schools have. Each school year children skipped out of the school gates at the end of July, carrying their pump bags and not much else. This appears to have changed over time. On the last day of term my kids stagger out of the gates carrying their pump bag, a school coat I haven’t seen since September and ALL their books, pictures, paintings and topic work. Fast forward to ten years later and lots of us parents still have a model of a viking small holding and an A1 sized picture of Elizabeth the First, which is stored alongside a clay model of a hedgehog they made in Year One.

At what point does it feel ok to put all their work in the wheelie bin? Please do not give me any gibberish about taking a photo or scanning pieces of my children’s artwork. Throwing away a sculpture my first born made at nursery but knowing that somewhere on my laptop there is a picture of it (that I’ll never look at) is pure BS. It is not a straight swap. Either throw it away or keep it, don’t make digital clutter and tell yourself that you won’t feel bad when the bin truck crushes it.

Photos

In theory I’m happy to cull some photos, particularly landscapes with no people in them. It’s a hill in North Wales, it’s a beach in North Wales, it’s another hill within walking distance of Rhyl in North Wales. I can part with those, but sometimes even stupid pictures of nothing good are associated with good memories.

Before the days of digital photography people on holiday took poor quality pictures with regular old school compact cameras. For some reason I have an entire batch of badly taken photos of a carnival in Prestatyn. The pictures have a strange pink tint and feature random people I don’t know, but despite the rubbish photos, I remember watching that carnival with my mum and dad. Compared to the piles of decent photographs that I fully intend keeping, the handful of random hills and 1980s carnival aren’t important and don’t really matter but they make me smile whenever I see them and in reality the space taken up by a few packs of regular sized pictures is nothing compared to the dozens of full sized portrait packs I’ve bought over the years.

Persuading parents to buy pictures of their child starts early. If you give birth in hospital and stay there for more than 24 hours, you are almost guaranteed to get a bedside visit from a chirpy photographer. As babies constantly grow and change, parents are always open to the idea of paying for more photographs of them. Along with the many years worth of my badly taken home photographs, I also have professional portraits from PixiFoto, Venture and a large assortment of other photographers. The quality of the photography varies but they were always better than anything I could have done myself. The packs were always arranged so that unless you buy a dozen pictures in an assortment of sizes, it feels as though you’re wasting money. You’re not, but it’s hard agreeing that you don’t want pictures of your little one looking cute, so you aim for whichever package lets you have at least one of each pose, which usually ends up only slightly less expensive than having the super duper premium package so you upgrade and then you end up with more pictures than you need. Fast forward a few years and you still have half a dozen tiny copies of the same picture in the original packaging.

School Letters

Schools produce an awful lot of paperwork and until recently most of it was physically on paper. My kids are generally quite bad at promptly handing over pieces of paper and I’m quite bad at remembering what happened to a specific piece of paper after it was eventually handed over, so as a result the consent forms / raffle tickets / sports day / parents evening / band practice / swimming letter usually disappeared into a mystery portal and extra copies had to be hastily signed in school reception at the last minute. Lots of these letters resurfaced recently – better several years late than never!

Letters, Threatening Letters & Business Paperwork

Since first leaving home as a teenager my finances have varied a lot and no matter where you are on the money scale it generates post. If you pay your bills on time, you get lots of nice friendly letters asking if you’d like a credit card. If you’re at the other end of the scale, you get a lot more post and it’s a lot less fun to open. Besides the vast amounts of financial correspondence I have always kept things in case I needed them, which in some cases is the right thing to do but when it’s old receipts and warranties for old washing machines then it definitely isn’t, but I’ve never really had a system for getting rid of paperwork at the end of its useful life.

I started my first business in 2007 with dreams of becoming a successful entrepreneur complete with a huge library of books on every aspect of business. The very short version is that I had a small shop which I opened with a big bag of redundancy money. The shop was open for a while and by the time I decided not to renew the lease, I had no savings and a damaged credit record. Closing my shop wasn’t a nice experience so I dealt with the things that were absolutely necessary and left lots of the paperwork and other general stuff in boxes, primarily as a way of saving my mental health until I had the time and emotional resilience to tackle it. Later that year I enrolled at uni and switched from retail to digital. A few weeks ago a lot of those boxes were opened and although it’s never nice to be reunited with old invoices or out of date threatening letters, it was nice to finally be able to dispose of them.

Unlike lots of the people on tv shows tackling their clutter, I have absolutely no problem getting rid of old newspapers or product literature from a decade ago. My problem was that I needed to keep some of the paperwork, wanted to keep various other things and the outdated product literature happened to be stuffed into the same boxes.

Confidential Waste

Unfortunately I’m an all or nothing person so once I decide that I’m going to get rid of something, I’ll insist on doing it properly and that includes recycling and disposing of personal paperwork properly. Hopefully I’ll never be bored enough to calculate how much time I’ve spent shredding documents with my ‘no more than 3 sheets at a time’ cheap shredder because I can guarantee that it will never feel a good way to spend that many hours.

Books & CDs

I still have lots of VHS cassettes and DVDs, which is not a big deal. Nobody else wants them and and it’s wasteful to throw them away. If I find a suitable home I’d be willing to part with them. Film isn’t a big deal to me, music however is a very different matter. I still have all my old vinyl, all my old cassettes and a lot of CDs.

Years ago Mr WorthyOnTheWeb bought me my first iPod thinking that I’d upload all my music to it and get rid of my CDs. I obviously did no such thing, which considering I’m now on my third iPod is obviously a good thing. I will always love my first iPod and the 8000 songs I had on it but frankly the idea of leaving one piece of tech holding my music collection is nothing short of crazy. Streaming is good, but it’s no substitute for just owning a physical copy of the album. For a start once you own it you can listen to it whenever you like, you don’t need wifi and it doesn’t matter if that particular track gets dropped by whichever streaming service you’re using. For me it’s too easy to waste ages choosing the right playlist or deciding exactly what you’re in the mood to listen to and there is something about being able to just grab a handful of CDs and get in the car that just suits me. I did once decide to get rid of some of the CD collection, but the tiny handful I was willing to get rid of made it a complete waste of time.

When it comes to books I am definitely a hoarder and I have a real problem getting rid of books. I’m reducing the collection, but unless I have someone to give them to, I’m probably just going to keep them. Not all of them, but a large percentage. When I daydream about lottery houses, they always include a library. (I’ll leave you to imagine me swinging off one of those giant ladders like Belle in Beauty and Beast) To me books are special, even though obviously some of them probably aren’t, but this special status I’ve allocated them means that I can’t / won’t just get rid of them. I’m willing to rehome some of them but that isn’t always as straight forward as you would expect. There are four charity shops within walking distance of my house and none of them seem to be very enthusiastic about taking books as they obviously have difficulty selling them.

The problem with books is that you end up with some that you haven’t read yet, despite owning them for years (and years) and others that you’ve read and won’t part with. I’m not sure whether that’s because I may want to read them again one day or if it’s because they remind me of certain times in my life. I have lots of happy teenage memories of buying and reading secondhand paperbacks bought at an indoor market on holiday in Rhyl. I loved reading as a kid and even more as a teenager. I still have my collections of Harold Robbins, Jilly Cooper, Jackie Collins and James Herbert. I also have the Omen books and of course lots of Enid Blyton and Roald Dahl.

For many people decluttering is a one off activity, for others it’s a loop we go through over and over. Some of the loops are caused by not changing the attitudes and behaviours that led to the problem in the first place and for others the loops are caused by only doing as much as you had to in order to live your life, before closing the door of the room you piled the leftover stuff into. It takes a long time to collect clutter and it can take a long time to get rid of it. The solution to my book hoard is that I need to build some bookcases but I’ve got a few more boxes to go through before that happens.

A few weeks ago I was lucky enough to attend the New Adventures conference in Nottingham. I had a brilliant time and came away totally inspired. At this point I’m going to avoid going into a five paragraph love fest about how much I loved staying at the Premier Inn and how comfy their beds are, suffice to say that if they ever want to replace Lenny Henry, I am totally the girl.

Having been to New Adventures in the past I totally expected to feel inspired, which I did, but it was not in the way that I expected. Parts of the day were hilarious and other parts were thought provoking and at times even a little frightening.

This was my second time at New Adventures, I originally attended in 2013, during my time as a mature undergraduate student. The good thing about being a student, is that people don’t expect you to have any money, so there are often special discounts available. These discounts can often get you cheap tickets, so I took advantage of the student rate and went along. I saw Jessica Hische on stage, where she introduced me to the concept of Procrastiworking, the work you do whilst you’re procrastinating, which might just be the work that you should be doing. That idea resinated with me and keeps coming back as a little reminder.

When I started studying web development I expected to be building websites all day every day for a company somewhere. Fast forward to last year and although I’m self employed, I actually spent less time building websites than I did doing the various other things that I do. I didn’t deliberately procrastinate by doing other things, but I just started prioritising the work I do as a volunteer, over the work that pays my bills. Understandably this led to a drop in income, along with intermittent periods of panic and self doubt, none of which was helped by phone calls from people wanting to know “when I’d be bringing my account up to date” It appears that my procrastiworking is the work that I do with the Online Centres Network and the work that I do with SPACE to support local families. Seven years after my first trip to New Adventures and that concept is still there in my head.

When I first saw that New Adventures was on this year, I eagerly visited the website and concluded that I wouldn’t be able to go, because I simply didn’t have enough money in the bank for a ticket. For those of you that follow me on Twitter, you’ll know that I was excited to be there, mainly because I didn’t think I’d be able to go. The only reason I was able to attend, was thanks to their amazing scholarship ticket scheme and I would like to whole heartedly thank them. There are lots of ways to increase diversity in tech and one of them is to make it easier for people to attend industry events. That was one of the many things that I personally appreciated about this event. I liked the diverse line up and the opportunity to watch lightning talks during lunch. The swag policy was another positive. Rather than either leaving attendees with no swag at all or generating endless waste by issuing everybody with a ‘gift bag’ full of badges, stickers and t-shirts that they might not want, people were encouraged to take whatever swag they wanted. If you work for a software company and attend a dozen conferences every year, then I can see how you’d get fed up of it all, I however am 100% a person that likes to receive swag at the small number of conferences I get to attend and thanks to New Adventures, I am now the proud owner of an Affinity t-shirt, one metal badge, a couple of stickers and a small notepad.

Throughout the day, attendees heard from speakers on a range of topics all of which were designed to encourage the audience to think a little bit more, question themselves and sow the seeds of a change in behaviour. As it is now a few weeks since the conference, there will already be lots of comprehensive round ups of the event so I’m going to fast forward to sharing the things which are still forefront in my mind and the best way to sum up one of the key themes I took away from New Adventures can be explained through my “owl on the trampoline” story.

Like many people, my garden contains a ten foot trampoline, complete with safety netting. Nobody uses it, yet I’m regularly informed that I’m not allowed to get rid of it (but apparently I’m the hoarder!) Anyhoo, a few nights ago I opened the back door to let the dog out and I could see an owl perched on the netting of the trampoline.

First thought – Oh wow there’s an owl on the trampoline!

Second thought – I’d better get the dog back in, because he’ll start barking and wake up every kid in the village.

Third thought – Where’s my phone? I really want to try and get a badly taken picture of the owl to put on social media.

Fourth thought – Fuck! The owl is probably sat on the trampoline staring at the dead rat at the side of the garage, which eventually led to my fifth thought that whilst rats die all the time, in a variety of ways, this particular one is probably dead because I paid the council to put poison in my cellar to deal with the problem of rodents getting into the house.

The next hour took an almost comical turn of me clambering around my garden, in the dark, retching and gagging whilst I moved the dead rat, using an old mop and some discarded packaging. If my antics had been caught on camera, the part where I slipped and almost fell over alone, would have guaranteed me £250 from You’ve Been Framed. After a great deal of sliding, climbing, shuddering and loud involuntary noises, I managed to put the deceased rat safely in the wheelie bin.

(For those wondering why we had knowingly left a dead rat at the side of the garage, Mr WorthyOnTheWeb and I had decided we’d move it the following day, because he was on his way to work, it was getting dark and frankly neither of us wanted to do it at all, so we made sure the dog couldn’t get near it and put the whole thing off)

So what on earth does my ridiculous owl, trampoline rat story have to do with the New Adventures tech conference?

Do no harm trumps don’t be evil

Akil Benjamin

You don’t have to be evil to cause harm. I’m not evil and I do not wish to cause owls any harm. Owls are beautiful majestic creatures, and I would never attempt to kill one, but I could easily have done so whilst resolving my rodent problem, because the unintended consequence of allowing the council to poison “my” rats, is that I potentially introduced a toxic substance into the food chain of local owls.

The things we do have consequences, even when those consequences are unintended.

Humans invent things that later go on to be used for a variety of other uses and digital products are no different. The innovative tech products, which are currently being created, by people who are in no way evil, could go on to cause harm to others. A key theme at New Adventures was to remind people of this. The opening keynote by Cennydd raised not only the plight of the environment but also the fact that designers hold an enormous amount of power and that they ultimately don’t only design the things of the future but in some cases actually design the future. Somebody somewhere is building the software and writing the algorithms. Somebody somewhere is designing the tech that could potentially become the dystopian future we don’t want.

The excitement about AI (Artificial Intelligence) and the potential for fantastic shiny new things is more marketable, than the potential for harm that the algorithms and machine learning could result in. Lots of dangerous current and future technology didn’t start out that way and throughout his keynote Cennydd encouraged those in the room to start taking responsibility for the unintended consequences of the things our industry designs and creates.

When I worked for Royal Mail, AI stood for Address Interpretation, it helped the sorting machines read a greater percentage of addresses on envelopes. It was a “self learning system” and over time the sorting machines learnt to read not only typed addresses, printed in recommended fonts, but also hand writing. The software learnt from human beings. Anything they couldn’t read they gave to a human postal worker to process and the machine learnt from that. Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning are everywhere and the danger of this is that the decisions based on those algorithms might not be checked. They may and often will, contain bias and the end result of this could have devastating consequences for people and those consequences will be much worse than some mis-sorted letters.

Akil Benjamin shared his personal journey and talked about how he has changed since starting his first business. including the pressures he faced and the effect it had on him personally. Akil discussed the idea of embedded ethics and the fact that his organisation Comuzi uses consequence scanning. I would personally trust every one of the New Adventures speakers to go further than “not evil” but when evil is down to perspective and capitalism is running most, if not all of the world, how many other organisations would be willing to scrap a project if they identified that potentially their new software could do harm.

One feature of New Adventures was that they provided a captioning service. On stage next to the speakers was a large screen and as the speakers spoke, their words appeared on the screen next to them thanks to a very talented gentleman transcribing the whole thing live. During Liz Jackson’s talk she shared her experiences at a US tech conference where the organisers failed to provide an interpreter or captioning, despite being told that they’d be needed and introduced us to an app called Thisten that offers live text to speech on your phone. The talks from New Adventures are still available on the app.

Liz’s talk was entertaining but also really powerful and it encouraged the audience to think about the power dynamic of innovations designed to help those with disabilities. Are they really needed? Do they really help? or are they cool ideas that in real life are more about the inventors than solving the needs of the community who should benefit from the innovation.

A couple of days after attending, I saw a Mashable post about a wheelchair that allowed users to “stand up” and move about in a similar way to a segway, which on the face of it seemed like a good idea, but after hearing Liz’s talk about hi-tech wheelchairs that climbed stairs versus providing ramps so that anybody in any wheel chair could access a building, I found myself questioning the idea and wondering whether this was an idea that offered real benefits to the community it supposedly served. The ideas she shared have stayed with me.

It was recently announced that a company had scraped a number of images from networks such as Facebook and was using them, along with a number of other data sources to create what was described on Twitter as a “human Shazam” where somebody could take a photograph of somebody in public and potentially utilise that service to find out lots of information about them. I find that concept absolutely terrifying. A random stranger could find out information about you, without your knowledge or consent. Perhaps my fears are fuelled by my experiences as somebody, who has been on the scary end of an abusive relationship. The idea of there being a digital product where violent partners are able to upload pictures of their ex-girlfriends and get information back is scarier than any horror film that I can imagine. Creepy blokes in clubs that you won’t give your number to, would be able to casually take your picture and get your details. Making this technology openly available to predatory men will endanger women. In terms of not being evil, I’m struggling to think of an appropriate and positive use for this technology.

This particular software is built on the shoulders of other technology that already exists and which probably wasn’t created with the intention of endangering lives, yet that is exactly how it could be used. It also raises the issue of diversity. Who else should have been in the room when this was invented? Could more women at a senior level have stopped this idea getting further than an ignored suggestion at a brain storming session? Certain platforms already ask whether I’d like them to “help” me by using face recognition on my images. Would I like a company I don’t trust to catalogue pictures of my friends and family on their massive database? No thanks mate, I’m good!

When you join Facebook to stay connected to your friends or look for customers for your small business, most people don’t realise the potential consequences. Even the most informed of us assumed that the rich data profile we allowed them to create, was for selling adverts, who knew everything else it could lead to. None of us knew exactly how much information we were providing both in and out of the app and could never have dreamed that it would be used in the ways that it has been. I don’t really mind Facebook helping somebody sell me a new jacket, but I object greatly to the idea that their influence resulted in my new racist Prime Minister.

Despite all the problems with Facebook I continue to use it. I use that platform to run an online community that supports families with ADHD and whilst I could quit Facebook, there is currently no way that I could have the effect I have now, on any other platform. During the panel session the speakers discussed the immense privilege of being able to “quit Facebook” and why should we as users be forced to abandon a platform, rather than the platform being forced to behave better. Evil is a matter of perspective but in most cases legislation makes those blurred lines a lot clearer.

There is an argument that it doesn’t matter how much information is stored about us unless we’re doing something we shouldn’t. The UK is one of the most surveilled societies in the world and many people believe that this keeps us safe or at least helps the police find the bad guy if something happens to us. What if the bias in the software encourages the police to pursue the wrong people and leads to innocent people being arrested?

Not everybody in the tech industry has the power to make changes, many of us will never create a technology with the potential to change the world, but by raising questions and asking us to at least think about it, New Adventures sowed those seeds.

A few months ago I was lucky enough to deliver a talk at Code and Stuff about my journey into tech. I named my talk – I’m a Rhinoceros Not a Unicorn, which is such an abstract title that people started asking me what it meant, so I decided to turn the content of that talk, along with a few other things, into a blog post.

For one reason or another I have spent much of my life failing to live up to the various stereotypes associated with the things I do, particularly when it comes to my working life. No matter what job I do, if there is a widely held stereotype associated with it, then it probably doesn’t look like me.

If you take the stereotypes too seriously, then you could find yourself believing that there are no women in tech and also no black people in tech, so speaking as a black woman working in tech, I obviously don’t exist. I’m a mythical creature. I’m a unicorn. My response to this is that rather than have the world, and in particular the next generation of black women, believe that I don’t exist, I’d suggest that rather than a unicorn, I’m actually a rhinoceros. Not something you see every day like a horse or a cow, but still something that exists in the real world.

There are lots of reasons why women of colour are underrepresented in UK tech, but regardless of how we got to where we are, there is work to do so that girls interested in writing code do not have to run the gauntlet of being the “only one” in their classes, lectures or bootcamps. We have to ensure that being interested in writing code, doesn’t have to mean, willing to work in an industry where they are so outnumbered that they stand out by default. They shouldn’t have to be willing to be “the only one”, not everybody wants to have that battle or be that visible.

My journey into the work I do now wasn’t an obvious one. I wasn’t one of those teenagers who had a computer at home and taught myself programming in my bedroom. I didn’t develop an interest in coding until I was 38 and my interest started when I found myself with a website that I couldn’t afford to have rebuilt. I do bizarrely have a GCSE in Computer Science, but it’s so far down the alphabet that it barely counts. Although I had studied Computer Science at school, it wasn’t based on an interest in computing. It was mainly based on our school having a brand new IT suite filled with shiny BBC computers, which is the main reason I chose it as one of my options. I had no intention of ever working with computers, I’d already decided that I wanted to be some sort of engineer. I also decided at this point to discontinue Touch Typing, because I was never going to work in an office and would therefore never need to type anything.

When I left school I started a YTS apprenticeship as a car mechanic. When I started in 1987, not only was I the only female in the garage where I worked (1:7 ratio) but I was also the only female on the City & Guilds vehicle engineering course at my college. On my first day, after being directed to the wrong place, I eventually walked into the induction session 20 minutes late where I was stared at by over 50, 16 year old boys, all muttering variations of the phrase “it’s a girl”.

I was referred to as “the girl” for the first couple of weeks before they established that I was OK, or at least not that bad. This is as good a time as any to announce that 16 year old me was very quick to loudly point out that since you didn’t change spark plugs with your dick, that me being a girl didn’t really matter! By the end of the first month I was just like everybody else. I didn’t fit the mechanic stereotype, but ultimately it didn’t matter.

The reality of being a 1980s apprentice mechanic was lots of brewing up and sweeping up. As the youngest of five, in a tea drinking family, I really hated brewing up! (For those of you familiar with the TV show The Royle Family, I was the Anthony of my family) After several months of oily overalls and steel toe capped boots I decided that being a mechanic wasn’t for me, so I left to join Royal Mail. I was hoping for a free bike and a lunch time finish, but actually spent my first year sorting mail on a ten o’clock late shift and the other 18 years working in various admin roles, where the touch typing I abandoned at 14 would have been extremely useful!

Having left school with very average grades, in an assortment of subjects, I assumed that my academic life was over when I left school. It never occurred to me, when I was 18, that I might ever go to university. That was for super brainy people. As far as I was concerned, university had nothing to do with me. By the time I was 26, I decided that it might be one day.

Being a mature student is the best and worst of everything, particularly as an undergraduate. As a mature student I was keen, dedicated and excited to learn. I sat at the front in almost every lecture with an A4 notebook and a full pencil case. I was there because I wanted to be, I was happy to engage in lectures, attend all seminars and do the work. At the start of my student journey I still looked young enough to blend in, especially in my brand new MMU hoodie, so they still handed me flyers for club nights. I filled my boots with freebies at the Freshers Fair and made the most of the “Young Persons” rail card, that I now somehow qualified for.

The main problem with university was that everything appeared to be based on the idea that all students are 18 years old and live on campus and to be fair the majority of them probably do, but if you need to arrange childcare for multiple children, then the casualness with which you are told that you won’t get your time table until term starts and are regularly fobbed off by admin staff is extremely frustrating. Having the entire system based around 18 year old party boys simply does not work for everybody and that’s not an age thing, it’s a logistics thing. Being old enough to be everybody’s mum isn’t necessarily a problem, not having enough information to book places at after school club for your children is.

When I left university with my shiny new degree I started looking for junior positions, at which point being 42 meant that I didn’t match the stereotype of university graduates. My lengthy management career wasn’t applicable to the jobs I was looking for. Nobody needed a front end web developer that could manage a telephone contact centre and even less people needed a front end web developer that knew a lot about Royal Mail sorting machines. I had to start from scratch, as though my entire adult working life didn’t exist. My CV was worth the same as a two decade gap year.

I didn’t hit the stereotype as a mechanic or many years later as a student, so it’s no surprise that I allegedly don’t look like a web developer now. I’m never the stereotype but I’m always still right here. Just because you don’t see lots of people that look like me, doesn’t mean that I don’t exist. My lack of visibility doesn’t make me a unicorn. It does however, in certain contexts, make me an endangered species.

A side effect of a lack of diversity is the bias and exclusion it can create. Putting aside those who deliberately make the workplace (and the world in general) unpleasant, thousands of people dealing only with others, exactly like themselves can generate an unhealthy environment. It is harder for people to learn what is acceptable and appropriate in wider society and generally leads to the creation of products and services, that don’t serve the full population. Having an all male team isn’t automatically a bad thing, but without any female influence, how likely are they to reflect the other half of the population in their work?

Despite rarely being who people expected to see, I went to meet ups and attended any conference I could afford the tickets for. I kept meeting new people and I generally met those people again at other events. My personality makes me more likely than most, to put myself out there and go to places for the first time. I’m so used to being the only person that looks like me, that it’s only a problem if / when something unpleasant happens and I have been luckier than most on that front. I have been to meet ups where I’m the only woman. I’ve been to meet ups where I’m the only person of colour and I have been in lots of situations where I’m the oldest person in the room.

When 16 year old me walked into a room full of young lads who all stared and wondered why I wasn’t a boy, it wasn’t great, but I was pretty unaffected. How many women walk into tech spaces now and experience pretty much the same thing? When large groups of men don’t expect to see women in a particular space, do they unintentionally generate the same vibe as that classroom full of teenage mechanics? If they do, what happens to those women? Do they just sit down and cockily claim their space as I did, or does it make them feel too visible? Not everybody wants to stand out. Do they feel unwelcome? Do they participate as much as those in the majority? Do they go back to meet ups where they were the “only one”? Do they feel comfortable staying behind for the social events or do they scurry off straight after the presentations? These are some of the reasons why people started creating spaces exclusively for women.

Technology needs women. Not because men are bad, but because diversity is better. Technology needs people of colour. Not because white people are bad, but because diversity is better. Technology needs people of all ages. Not because young people are bad, but because diversity is better. Diversity is always better, but to do the day job we need people to have the necessary skills.

Tech firms may well be willing to recruit more female developers, but they need them to have the same skills and / or qualifications as the male developers. At this point it becomes a numbers game. You can’t do a degree in Computer Science without the relevant A Level and you can’t do an A Level without the relevant GCSE. As a Code Club volunteer I know that the enthusiasm for learning to code at primary school is the same for boys and girls, as is their level of attainment. At some point between leaving primary school at 11 and choosing their GCSE options at 13, most of the girls are ditching computing.

There are more white men working in tech and some of these men are a problem, not only for the tech industry, but for society in general. I’m lucky enough to know lots of perfectly lovely people who fully fit the official web developer stereotype. Men with beards and hoodies ,who learnt to code as teenagers and I can assure you that none of the men I’m proud to call friends, are the toxic tech bros, I occasionally find on my Twitter timeline. There is a lot of generalisation, which is often unhelpful. In the quest for diversity, it is sometimes portrayed as though white men are the problem, when in fact, I personally believe the problem isn’t that there are too many white men, but rather that there aren’t enough of everybody else. Technology has the potential to resolve lots of the world’s problems, but we need the right mix of people, looking at the right problems, in the right way. How do we educate those that fit the stereotype about life outside their personal perspectives? Lived experience is important and we need to include a variety of different lives in order to do that.

So having established my existence, the next step is to look at how we can facilitate more rhinos. What else can we do to encourage girls and women into tech? What else can we do to introduce more people of colour into tech? What else can we do to keep a mixture of different people in tech? What are the many barriers to people that don’t meet the official stereotype? Is it the toxic tech bros? Is it that flexible working hours aren’t common? Is it simply that people don’t see any way to be something that they so rarely see?

There are a lot of questions, but luckily there are people out there working to find answers. There is a lot of work going on to increase the number of rhinos in tech and there are already more of us about than some people imagine. Organisations like InnovateHer are running education programmes in schools. There are meet ups such as Code and Stuff Manchester, who were set up specifically for women and non binary developers. Free tech meet ups offer help and support to new developers, from all backgrounds, who are retraining through online courses like Freecode Camp.

An increasing number of conferences and meet ups have introduced Codes of Conduct, which make it very clear that inappropriate behaviour will not be tolerated at their events. Many conferences are tackling the lack of diversity in their speaker and panel line ups. I was lucky enough to be on stage at Upfront 2019 delivering a short talk, thanks to their bursary scheme, which included free training to encourage and support speakers from under represented groups.

Sometimes telling people you exist is enough to encourage more people to follow your path, or at least tell a few more people that the path exists. It’s not everybody that would willingly refer to themselves as a rhinoceros, but as I think you can tell, I’m not like everybody else (but that still doesn’t make me a unicorn)