I seem to write some really good things while in transit, so here goes another attempt.
Right now I am on an Amtrak train headed into the heart of Sacramento, and out of what I can only describe as a burning crater of my life as I knew it in San Francisco.
((right now we are passing by an ex boyfriend’s house in West Oakland))
This year has been a really rough one. The end of 2013/beginning of 2014 saw me through some of the most heinous bullshit that I’ve ever experienced. Between being unceremoniously dumped, the violent death of a good friend, a bunch of medical drama with my family, and felling trapped in a somewhat unfulfilling office job that I’d convinced myself was a “dream job,” I was the most depressed that I can ever remember being.
((right now we are passing by an abandoned building I explored with a beau once))
I would go to work. I would go to social engagements to keep up appearances. And then I would go home and sit in my room in the dark with a bottle of whiskey.
((right now we are passing by the Albany Bulb, where we held Conor’s funeral))
And then a friend invited me to go on a chartered sail on a tall ship that happened to be in the area. I knew that I should, you know, go out and do *things*. So I did.
And because my brain is kind of broken, it attached itself to the idea of sailing on a ship for real. Like a cold broken man overboard trying to lash himself to a lifeboat. My brain hooked onto this idea and suddenly would not let it go. And then the captain told me about the program where anyone could come on for 2 weeks to volunteer and train as a deckhand.
I literally signed up via my phone in the car on the way back.
((right now we are zooming through Vallejo, passing by empty fields with signs that read “Dirt For Sale” stuck into them))
Now, I have completed my two weeks. I joined the crew of the Lady Washington for their transit from Washington state to Oakland CA. I don’t have any words for how incredible that voyage was. I knew that I would find challenge, and I did. I knew that I would find a new view of the ocean I thought I knew well, and I did. I knew I would be changed, and I was. I knew I would be exhausted, and oh God was I.
I didn’t know that I would find a beautiful community of people. I didn’t know that they would welcome me with open arms. And I never thought they’d invite me back.
That, as it turns out, is what happened.
When we came back under the Golden Gate Bridge, I thought that I would feel like I was coming home. But instead I just felt like I was drifting back towards a place where I didn’t belong anymore.
Now, I am on a train heading towards Sacramento to work on another ship in the Gray’s Harbor family, the Hawaiian Chieftain. And there are a lot of things that I’m leaving behind in San Francisco.
((right now we are passing under that great bridge outside of Vallejo that I can never remember the name of but has a great view of the C&H sugar factory))
I am leaving behind stability. I am leaving behind an amazing job working at an incredible bar for an incredibly talented and knowledgeable bartender. I am leaving behind friends. I am leaving behind lovers. I am leaving behind a long burning love that I don’t know how to put out, and if I’m honest with myself, a big part of the reason I’m leaving is so I can try and escape those flames. I am leaving behind something old. I am leaving behind something new. I am leaving behind a home. I’m leaving behind a city I love dearly but is irreparably and rapidly changing in the face of new money from a ballooning tech industry.
I am leaving behind everything I knew, with no real end point. I know my contract says that I’ll be the Chieftain until January, but what about after that?
I don’t know. And that is the most freeing thing I’ve felt in a long time.
What I do know is that for all the things I’m leaving behind, I’m getting something incredible in return. A new opportunity. An adventure. A purpose, and a challenge.
And I can’t wait.
I am currently writing this post from an airplane in the sky. This airplane is hurtling me at hundreds of miles an hour towards New York City, where I am excited to be attending the ninth incarnation of HOPE- Hackers On Planet Earth. This will be my first time attending, as well as the first time I’ll be visiting New York as an adult. This will be the first of two hacker cons I’ll be attending this summer with Defcon being the second in a few weeks.
Because I am a Very Bad Adult, I finished packing my bags at a completely unreasonable hour of the morning last night. While I was deciding what clothes to take with me to New York, something dawned on me; I was already thinking about what clothes I would avoid taking to Las Vegas for Defcon. Short skirts, low cut tops, tight dresses, and anything that might be overtly attention-grabbing have been bumped to second priority on that packing list.
Why? Please, I invite you to find any woman who has attended Defcon for the answer. Go ahead. Go ask one. I’ll be here.
Are you back?
For anyone who wasn’t able to immediately find a female Defcon attendee, I will let you in on a not very well kept secret. Defcon is hell for women. Defcon is also many wonderful things. It is a fantastic environment to learn, network, and connect with friends old and new. But I’m not here to talk about that. There are plenty of other people who have been going to Defcon for longer than I, and who have gained more from it, who are infinitely more equipped to speak about it’s strengths as a conference. All I can speak to is my somewhat jarring experience last year, the first time I attended.
Let it be known that I went to Defcon with a reasonable amount of armor on already. I was reasonably aware of the frat party environment I was stepping into. I have many friends who are involved with helping make Defcon roll smoothly each year, from speakers to goons. And still, nothing could have prepared me for the onslaught of bad behavior I experienced.
Like the man who drunkenly tried to lick my shoulder tattoo. Like the man who grabbed my hips while I was waiting for a drink at the EFF party. Like the man who tried to get me to show him my tits so he could punch a hole in a card that, when filled, would net him a favor from one of the official security staff (I do not have words for how slimy it is that the official security staff were in charge of what was essentially a competition to get women to show their boobs). Or lastly, the man who, without prompting, interrupted my conversation and asked me if I’d like to come back to his room for a “private pillowfight party.” “You know,” he said. “Just a bunch of girls having a pillowfight…. fun!” When I asked him how many men would be standing around in a circle recording this event, he quickly assured me that “no one would be taking video! I swear!” I’m pretty sure this is the point where my lovely partner Morgan asked him if he thought propositions like his had anything to do with contributing to women not feeling welcome at Defcon. This was a very difficult concept for this poor soul to wrap his head around.
After that last interaction, Morgan and I ran into one of his kiwi hacker brethren. In a huff, I told him about Mr. Pillows. Being of the Rugby-watching persuasion, he jokingly mentioned the idea of being able to hand out yellow and red cards to the men of Defcon who crossed boundaries.
So I went back to my hotel room and made these two cards:
They ended up being quite the hit! My tweets with links to the .jpgs went viral on the #defcon hashtag and they apparently got circulated on some internal goon mailing lists. I knew I had done well when a woman who I had just met excitedly told me that there was “some girl who had made these awesome cards to deter creepers.”
I know I’m not alone in being frustrated with the climate at Defcon. Last year at Deepsec in Vienna, I met a fantastically intelligent woman developer who flat out refused to attend Defcon because of interactions like those listed above. I can think of countless other women I know in the tech industry who are regular Defcon participants and speakers who are just as fed up with this crap as me. I wonder why we’ve all been so polite about such an unhealthy atmosphere.
I ended up not being able to do a print run of the cards last year because of time and money constraints. However, this year I am making a new run of actual physical cards! The original ones, while they were great at the time, were thrown together quickly with Gimp. This year I’m going to update them slightly so they look nicer. Mostly, I want something that women will feel eager to hand out should the need arise. I think this is an incredibly playful and relatively non-confrontational way to engage with behavior that women at tech conferences are all to eager to simply shrug off.
That said, I am a poor student. My budget for Defcon did not include setting aside extra funds to print up cards to ward off douchebags. So, as it stands, I might only be able to print up 50 of each color. I estimate this to be roughly enough to sustain myself and one other female friend through a handful of days navigating the waters of poorly socialized nerds. If you are a woman planning to come to Defcon this year and would like a stack of your own, or if you would simply like to support women taking a small stand against the exhaustive sexism at tech conferences, now would be a fantastic time to kick me a few dollars via paypal (my address is [REDACTED]). I am not interested in making money off this. I am just interested in making as many cards as I need to.
Regardless, I am excited about Defcon. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about getting the chance to hand a few of these bad boys out.
Edited to add: There seems to be a bit of confusion on the twitterverse. The images above are low res examples of what I made last year. I am currently working on nicer higher res images for this year’s cards. Keep in mind, when I mocked up last year’s cards they were never going to end up being printed because I didn’t have time or money. You guys have already come through in a big way with donations so you’ve already ensured that what I make will be 100x more badass for this year’s Defcon.
One more edit: Holy shit you guys. There is over 1,000 in my paypal to do this. Overnight. Please don’t send me anymore money! You’ve totally rocked it.
One final edit: Defcon is over, cards were made and distributed, and you can read my final rundown of the project here.