On collecting stories: pizza-fuelled conversations with junior devs
One of my many joys is collecting stories. I don’t mean books or articles (although I love a good book). I love collecting stories from others and their experiences navigating this world. In my work running a non-profit for people from underserved communities in tech, I ran a series of dinners where I would invite some young people starting out in tech for dinner and we’d chat. These Thrive dinners weren’t fancy or scripted. They were just a few people, some pizza, drinks and a conversation. We would sit huddled around and share about our experiences working in tech, and our hopes for our careers. Over lunches and on phone calls I’ve heard from people who felt isolated from or frustrated by loving an industry and not many around them understood or could relate to. From those conversations, I learned a few interesting things about the terms “diversity” and “inclusion” we speak about from an often academic or philosophical point of view.
Asking for help isn’t that simple
Here’s a common scene: you’re new, and overwhelmed at being at the new job, proving yourself and fitting in. You’ve been given login details to your computer and picked your lunch for the day. You’ve sat through all the mandatory onboarding sessions and no it’s time to work. There are some senior devs around you to offer help. Technically, you have everything you need. Actually, you’re freaking out.
This scene is one that always gets a laugh in conversation. I ask what the problem is. There are a few common responses here and they vary: sometimes, it’s not about not knowing what to ask, it’s about the frequency or granularity of information you’re allowed to ask for. Is it okay to ask what a concept means? What if I’m already supposed to know it? What if I sound stupid?
Sometimes, it’s the almighty headphones. The policy is “slack first”. This is one I disobey more than I should admit online. What I’ve learned about that policy is that it creates a confusion of “I’ve sent a slack, and got no response. Now what?” or even “I don’t know how to explain this thing on Slack. I don’t want to waste anyone’s time. Do I leave it and move on?”
What I hear is a fear of being labelled as needy. A fear of being shown up for not belonging, or being an imposter.
Asking for what you need
We have conversations about how to ask for what you need in a mentoring relationship, similar to how you’d need to ask for an environment to do your best at work. During one of these conversations, I remember someone shouting out “can I really do that?!” That was a reality check that asking for what you need is not easy, nor is it common. Imagine for a moment never having had an opportunity to assert your authority about your needs. How do you even start? How do you even know what you need? What if I’m labelled cheeky and lose my job?
This has been a reminder for me that being able to speak up about what you need isn’t something we’re naturally able to do. Sometimes the fear of the repercussion means these important conversations go unsaid.
Life happens, but it looks different for everyone
One of the topics that comes up is about what realistic work commitments look like. Late-night hackathons, drinks Friday, always being online. That’s what you’re signing up for when you want to move forward in your tech career. But then life happens. A late-night networking event or a hackathon that ends after public transport ends isn’t practical. It’s not for a lack of passion, it’s just expensive to Uber from Rosebank to Tembisa, or from Cape Town CBD to Khayelitsha. Of course, you could just explain it to your team lead, I’ve offered. I offer the solution but have heard this response many times over. That is an embarrassing conversation. Now imagine having that conversation in a company where you’re the only person of colour who doesn’t live within walking distance of the office, or the only parent, woman in a team where “team culture” events have to be re-designed since you joined to accommodate you.
I’ve learned that too often being the “other” also means carrying the burden of also teaching others about your lived experience or your difference, which further highlights your difference, the very thing you’re hoping not to shine a bright torch on.
So what does this mean?
I’m not yet sure there is a single answer. I think part of the answer will come from acknowledging the power structures that exist in the relationships in each of those examples. As leaders, coaches, champions — people with any kind of power, I think we need to start by being mindful about how we meet, how we talk about our needs and how we can help others create spaces for themselves where they can do their best. Then we need patience. I don’t think any gains will come overnight. This is a process for us all. The only way we’re going to make any progress is to take it one small step forward at a time.
