A room of our own
Stepping through the doors to the Castro Theatre, chipped brown paint peeling into the ornate gold decorations of another time, I felt something start to swell in my chest. It came slowly, like a wave building in the distance. And with every step I climbed, it grew. With every swing of the lanyard around my neck, with every glance I took around the room, at the crowds of queer women + people, at the wide range in shades and hair textures, at the sight of connection and community, it grew. And when I found a seat on the balcony and the intro video for this year’s 6th Lesbians Who Tech conference started to play, a tear began to roll gently down my cheeks.
Why was I crying? I quickly wiped it away but they just kept falling. And soon the shame fell away as well. Pride, hope filled the void it left behind. This theatre, spilling over with legions of queer women from all across the globe, was the space I’d always searched for and never found.
Any space for women I went to was filled with cis-hetero women, often white. Any space for queer people was filled with cis gay men (like the Castro). Any space for people in tech were also filled with cis-hetero men, often white (or South or East Asian).
It seemed that there was no space for me, no possible future in this field except for the one I’d have to build for myself. And truth be told, I was tired and scared and not sure I was (and still am) deserving/worthy of the space I take up in this world.
Which is why getting the chance to go to Lesbians Who Tech this year, the largest LGBT+ professional network organization in the world with 50,000+ members, held my heart in the palm of its warm, queer hands. A tech conference that has gathered together 1000+ queer female speakers over the course of 6 years? One where 50% of its speakers are women of color? Where this year their speakers are 30% Black and Latinx? Where 10% are Trans and Non-Binary?
Is this the real world I’m living in or some sort of imaginary land filled with rainbows, flannel, and lots of dancing and longing glances?
No, this is real. This is what it looks like when an organization is committed to diversity and inclusion, not just in name but in action. The founder and CEO, Leanne Pittsford, gave a keynote where she gave away the secret to all of this: just hire and stop blaming pipeline.
And Lesbians Who Tech continues to do more than just create 3 days of safe space for those most vulnerable amongst us. With the Edie Windsor Coding Scholarship (see this if you are unfamiliar with one of the pioneers of tech), they have helped thousands of queer women, non-binaries, and trans techies learn to code. Giving them the tools necessary to exist and succeed in a world that often exists and silences us.
Throughout Friday and Saturday, I heard from:
Cynthia Yeung, the COO of Cafe X
Poulomi Damany, the VP of Data Product Management at Credit Karma
Melody David and Marly Pierre-Louis, the Sr. and Lead UX Copywriters at Booking.com
Danielle Feinberg, the Director of Photography at Pixar
Senator Tammy Baldwin
Susan Wojcicki the CEO of Youtube
Kara Swisher, journalist at the NY Times + Co-founder of Recode
Sara Clemens the COO of Twitch
Muriel Naim, the Director of UX/UI at HopSkipDrive
Michelle Parsons, a Senior Product Manager at Spotify
Black Lives Matter co-founder/Principal at Black Futures Lab Alicia Garza
Stacey Abrams
Stephenie Landry, the VP of Amazon PrimeNow, AmazonFresh, & Restaurants
Kristin Collins Jackson, the Sr. Copywriter at Tinder/Match Group
X. Eyeè, the Blockchain Ambassador + Senior Technical Account Manager at Microsoft
… among others.
I learned from the masters at Spotify about how they create a personalized product for their users. Michelle Parsons dove into how they create this specialized experience for each user by combining explicit (think self-reporting data like your name as well as skipping or favoriting songs) and implicit (think how long you stay on the site or an artists page) data. By taking this multi-layered approach to the data they collect, their machine learning algorithms push songs/artists/playlists to you that are tailored to what you’d like. And by combining AI with human experts/curators, this results in a product that inspires trust and loyalty within their users.
Kristin Collins Jackson from Tinder also discussed how trauma-informed language produces inclusive content. As a trauma advocate, she has introduced this idea of writing with the individuals, not the demographics, in mind and using language that is intentional and doesn’t retraumatize individuals who may also be carrying intergenerational trauma. She reiterated how important it is to think of who is and isn’t in the room when coming up with stories. And how having a separate editorial site to explore topics important to the user base is useful in building connections with them.
Throughout the workshops, talks, and keynotes, there was laughter, tears of awe, and the wave that seemed to build that first day overflowed with the sense that I too can help push the needle forward even if it resists. Because there is a community ready to catch me if, and when, I fall, eager to help me stand back up.
There is a community here leading the way to a future where, as Leanne Pittsford said, one day a black lesbian woman could be President and the words “queer, badass, and inclusive” describe not just Lesbians Who Tech but the world overall.
