Binary Jazz

A few months ago, this happened:

After several months of thinking, procrastinating, conjuring reasons to not start a podcast and waiting for the idea to sound like a bad one (it didn’t), we decided to get our act together and get serious about the idea. I put together some notes, we came up with a format, we decided on a day of the week to record episodes and we’ve recorded our first three (two are available to download/listen to, one is scheduled for next week).

I have been peripherally interested in podcasting for a while but I am less inclined to do a solo venture (who wants to listen to me talk?), but doing one with a couple of my favorite people sounded like something that would keep my interest for a while. Plus, since our topic changes episode-to-episode there’s less of a chance that it will get tired and boring, both for us on the podcast, and (I hope) for anyone listening.

So far it’s been pretty fun. You should check it out.

Human for a year

I celebrated my 1 year anniversary with Human Made a few months ago. I wrote up a review for our company P2 but realized I haven’t said much over here. The following is a slightly edited version of that one year recap.


Last year, the Monday following Thanksgiving was my first official day as a Human. I think it’s poignant that my anniversary at Human Made falls in line with Thanksgiving (leaving the historical context of the slaughter of thousands of Native Americans aside for a moment) because I have much to be thankful for.

I have a tendency toward antiauthoritarianism. I stopped working traditional 9-5 jobs because I always ended up in these awkward situations where I (intentionally or unintentionally) challenged authority and ended up getting myself into trouble of one sort or another. It happened pretty consistently until ultimately I decided to start freelancing so my only boss was myself. I bring this up because since moving from freelance to agency work, I have gotten into similar situations (though not nearly as extreme) and it comes from having fairly strong opinions and wanting to voice them and then expecting that someone actually listen to and acknowledge those opinions. This was a fundamental difference in moving from a normal “backend developer” to “developer lead” at WebDevStudios — suddenly, when I became a lead, my opinions and thoughts felt like they mattered. People were listening when they weren’t before. And it made me more inclined to try to champion the ideas and opinions of the developers on my team(s) because I knew that I was often their only representative to make sure their ideas were heard.

Imagine how refreshing it feels, now, to be here at Human Made, where — as far as I can tell — we’re all extremely opinionated, we all demand that our ideas be acknowledged and, hey, they actually are!

More than the work, more than the dedication to open source, more than the people — though I love you all dearly — this is the thing I am most thankful for in my first year (of many!) as a Human. The acknowledgement that we are all valuable, that all of us have ideas that are valuable, and that we all deserve to be treated with compassion and understanding and empathy. I truly feel valued here and I am thankful every single day (and sometimes, still, a little amazed — am I dreaming?) to be lucky enough to be part of this truly inspirational and awe-inspiring team.

When I applied to Human Made more than a year ago, I really expected nothing to come of it. I had loads of imposter syndrome but I knew what I wanted and what I didn’t want. I was pretty clear on that, actually. I wanted to be treated with respect. I wanted transparency in the company and processes and I wanted the ability to speak up if I had ideas about the company — or what it was doing — without fear of retribution. I wanted the acknowledgement that I am not my work, I have other commitments — to my own open source contributions, to WordCamp and the local WordPress community, to my family, to my own health and sanity — and that those things  

Human Made was one of the few companies that actually ticked all those boxes. And I was a little shocked and disbelieving when Tom replied to me and that Joe gave me the time of day and somewhere in that process I was given a trial project and that everyone on that project was so amazing and warm and that, despite feeling like I contributed basically nothing to the project because it was such early days, I still hear, a year later, that some of my code is still there and valued by the team.

Back when I was freelancing — which was before Automattic really exploded, when they were still <100 people — I would longingly gaze at their Work With Us page. I would read stories about what the work environment is like, drool over the benefits, talk to Automatticians and generally try to suck up as much information as possible about Automattic. I said, that right there is my dream job. And that was what I aspired toward. I applied numerous times for various positions, went through a couple interview processes, even did a trial project once, but nothing really fit. Eventually, frustrated, I put it on the back burner for a future attempt “when I’m ready”, still ultimately thinking that Automattic was my dream job and that I would apply again, if they’d still have me.

 I no longer think that Automattic is my dream job. Or even remotely close, if I’m honest. My dream job is working for Human Made. And I am thankful to all of you for welcoming me, for valuing me (and each other), and for making this team truly the best to work with and the only gig I ever want to have.


I got an incredible amount of positive feedback for this post, including the following which makes me feel like I’ve found the right place:

You represent Human Made so much for me that I couldn’t imagine HM without you!

Since I wrote this, I met about half the company again at WCUS in Nashville where we hung out, visited a record pressing factory together and had our first US-based end-of-year meal. Every day I feel lucky to be a part of this incredible group of individuals.

Some words about Charlottesville, white privilege and racism

I have many words and feelings I want to express, but before I do, watch this, if you haven’t already. It’s important to witness what happened in Charlottesville and who these people are. The reporters at VICE who documented this are incredibly brave and deserve a medal.

The opposite of alt-right isn’t alt-left.
The opposite of Nazi-ism isn’t Communism.
The opposite of white supremacy isn’t white hatred.

I was a punk rock kid in high school. Punk is very much the music of teenage rebellion, of pushing boundaries, of clashing with the system. It’s also an identity thing — punk is about not caring about other people’s expectations of what you should be, it’s about making those choices yourself, no matter how brash, how loud and how stupid.

I bring this up because I was remembering a Black Flag song yesterday, “White Minority”. At the time, I assumed it was sarcastic, because I was 90% sure Black Flag wasn’t racist (they had a Puerto Rican singer for a while, after all). But the lyrics aren’t clear on that point:

We’re gonna be a white minority
We won’t listen to the majority
We’re gonna feel inferiority
We’re gonna be white minority

White pride You’re an American
I’m gonna hide Anywhere I can

I knew a couple “white pride” punk kids in high school. It’s one step away from the skinhead punks I’d see hanging around Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco. It’s one step away from the “white nationalists” in the VICE video. In fact, honestly, I can’t even say it’s a step away, really.

At the time of the song, lots of people thought it was racist for what I’d see as fairly obvious reasons. But Greg Ginn, the founder of Black Flag and author of the song, said no.

The idea behind it is to take somebody that thinks in terms of “White Minority” as being afraid of that, and make them look as outrageously stupid as possible. The fact that we had a Puerto Rican (Ron) singing it was what made the sarcasm of it obvious to me. Some people seem to want to take it another way, and somehow think that we’d be so dumb to where a Puerto Rican guy would sing it and it would be–I don’t know how they could consider that racist, but people took it that way.

But in the same interview, he says later that he really doesn’t care that much about that song, in particular.

It’s not a kind of song that has a long term emotional impact or value to us. We don’t even play it all the time.

This is the kind of careless use of words and language that comes with white privilege. Greg Ginn never experienced racism first-hand, but you can bet his Puerto Rican singer, Ron Reyes did. He never thought seriously about skinheads and Nazi punks taking his song and using it as an anthem to promote white supremacy and ethnic cleansing and thought it was “obvious” that it was satire, that he’s making fun of those guys. But if you put an angry, weight-lifting white dude with a shaved head like Henry Rollins in front of the band, it takes on a different meaning and the satire becomes (even) less obvious.

Words have meaning. Words matter and the choice of words matter. This is why we are angry about what Donald Trump said, and didn’t say and then said after coercion and then went back on again with regard to Charlottesville.  The intended meaning of words is irrelevant: how words are interpreted is what matters.

Apologizing or explaining later “oh, that’s not what I meant” doesn’t change anything if people use those same words to incite violence. Donald Trump’s words are being interpreted very favorably among white supremacists whether he knows it, or cares, or not. And that’s what brought us here.

I am pissed.

I dreamt about Nazis last night. I had a Twitter rant in my head the other day that I didn’t write down because I start to form thoughts together and something new happens and I’m having that thing again that happened at the beginning of the election where every minute it’s some new, horrible thing, and I can’t stop hitting refresh.

I have been ashamed by the religion I was born into.
I have been ashamed of the gender I was assigned at birth.
I have been ashamed of my color.
But until this year, I have never been ashamed of my nation.

We have literally gone to war to defeat Nazi ideology, to defeat the concept of a “superior race” and now we have an American President who defends people who agree with those things.

I remember this sketch from Saturday Night Live after the election where a group of white people and the token black character are watching the election results come in.

This is literally us right now. How did this happen? You weren’t paying attention. This has been happening for a long time and we sat there, being complacent and thinking all our victories were won when we elected our first black president.

I’m not perfect either. At the rally for solidarity I went to Monday night, organized by the Utah League of Native American Voters, three people, dressed all in black, wearing masks and carrying a flag I couldn’t read entirely came up behind us and I was nervous. There were counter-protests happening and I wasn’t entirely convinced that they weren’t trying to infiltrate the rally somehow. It took me a minute to realize they were latinx. And even after that, and after realizing they were applauding the speakers, my unease did not entirely lift right away. It wasn’t until we were walking back to our car after the rally that it hit me — they were most likely covering their faces for protection. The same reason many people were saying it’s dumb that the white supremacists didn’t wear masks Friday night (and are now suffering the consequences), and the reason the original KKK wore hoods: to protect their identities. If they were undocumented immigrants, they could be deported. Hell, in this country right now, even if they weren’t undocumented they could get deported. And again, I’m struck by my white privilege.  And my ingrained racism.

It’s nice to say “I don’t see color” but that’s like saying “I don’t see gender” or even “I don’t see flowers.” Unless you’re actually blind, you see color. It affects you. Maybe you don’t allow it to affect you, maybe you are fighting with all your might for it not to affect you, maybe you really, really don’t want it to affect you, but it does. And the sooner you can acknowledge that, the sooner you can be able to recognize that this is not a new problem. This is a 200-year-old problem.

I used to believe that in order to be a good person, I needed to be tolerant of everyone, even if I don’t agree with them. This extended, I believed, to people using the power of freedom of speech to spout hatred and intolerance. “That’s their right, I can disagree, but I can’t take it away.” While it’s true that I can’t take away another person’s freedom to express themselves, remaining silent is condoning that behavior. I learned about the paradox of tolerance, a philosophical concept that says this:

Unlimited tolerance must lead to the disappearance of tolerance. If we extend unlimited tolerance even to those who are intolerant, if we are not prepared to defend a tolerant society against the onslaught of the intolerant, then the tolerant will be destroyed, and tolerance with them.

Remaining silent is the same as allowing intolerance to take hold. It’s easy, and it’s easy to justify under the banner of “free speech” but it is just as violent and  just as destructive as driving a car into a line of protestors.

It strikes us, as Americans, as harsh to hear that in Germany you can get arrested for making the Nazi salute. Our knee-jerk reaction is that that’s a civil rights violation. But the Germans know what happens if that kind of thing goes unchecked. They know how easily it starts and how quickly it can spread to hysteria and get out of control. And maybe that doesn’t even entirely solve the problem, but it sets a precedent: these ideas are not welcome here.

I don’t have any solutions and there are many problems. I am just as tired as you are. I am read the news by white men on TV. I am represented in government by white men. People I follow on Twitter, friends of mine on Facebook, speakers I bring to WordCamp are white men (thankfully not all of them). But I am listening. And I will continue to listen. And I will try to use my privilege to fight.

When there was news of a counter protest at the rally Monday night, a lot of people said they wouldn’t go. There was a threat of violence, some white supremacists taking pictures of guns and threatening to bring them. I went anyway. Because, you know what? Living in constant fear of being attacked is what it means to be a person of color in this country. And until that changes, we need to do everything we can to shape this country to match our beliefs and the ideals that we are all created equal, every one of us, and that we are indivisible.

The thing that has always given me the most pride in my nation has been the thing I learned about in elementary school — that the United States is a melting pot. Everyone comes from somewhere else, and it’s when we bring all those people together and mix up all those ideas and beliefs and values that we create something that is ours. To be American is not to be white. It is to be multi-cultural. We need to build bridges not tear them down.

Shepard Fairey We the People Defend Dignity Shepard Fairey We the People are Stronger Than Fear Shepard Fairey We the People Protect Each Other

What is Net Neutrality and why should I care

Today I’m at the OpenWest conference, but today is also a day that — if you noticed the pop up that appeared when you loaded this site — websites and organizations all over the world (including my employer, Human Made) are taking a stand in support of Net Neutrality. There’s a battle being waged but a lot of people don’t really understand the weapons being used by either side or why it should affect them.

I was contacted by someone at VPN Mentor about an infographic they produced that explains what’s happening right now. Full disclosure: I know nothing about VPN Mentor — I use a VPN service called Private Internet Access and have been for several years and am very happy with them. However, I think this infographic is good at explaining what’s going on. Feel free to share if you so desire.

And if you are a WordPress owner and want to support this (and future) campaigns defending internet freedoms, check out and install my Cat Signal plugin.

Help me, I live in a rogue state (revisited)

The following is an essay I wrote 14 years ago during George W. Bush’s tenure as POTUS as he was prepping the country to go to war in Iraq to find non-existent WMD’s. I’ve been thinking a lot about how the pendulum swings in American politics and, in particular, what might happen after Donald Trump is no longer acting President. GW took office following Bill Clinton, whose progressive views helped revamp the economy after a double-header of Ronald Reagan and Bush Sr. created a devastating recession. They followed an incredibly liberal Jimmy Carter who is generally regarded in history as a poor President and lost his re-election campaign. GW was accused of “stealing” the election (remember “dangling chads”?) in 2000, and also lost the popular vote. It’s important to revisit where we’ve been in order to potentially see where we’re going. As America hunkers down in another wave of isolationism, the bright light at the end of the tunnel is the idea that this too shall pass, and maybe what comes after can be something truly amazing.

As you read the words below, replace “George W. Bush” with “Donald Trump” and you’ll be surprised (or maybe not so much) at how many parallels there are.


HELP ME, I LIVE IN A ROGUE STATE!

This is for all the patriots who disagree with our President. This is for all the people around the world who disagree with our President. This is an apology.

I don’t believe in George W. Bush. I didn’t vote for him. I don’t think that makes my opinion invalid.

I oppose what he’s doing in Iraq and to the world not only because it’s unjust and unjustified, but also because I didn’t vote for him, and neither did half of the American population who voted. Have we forgotten that? The only reason he’s in office is because of the rules of the electoral college, he lost the popular vote. And in an age in which only 30% of americans vote, period (and that’s a generous estimate), whose President is George W. Bush, other than George W. Bush’s? He’s certainly not the American President. In a democracy, the person chosen to lead the country is selected by a majority. That does not mean a majority of those who turn their ballots in, that means a majority of the country. Our country has become so alienated and disenchanted by the American government, that we don’t feel like what we say, think, or do matters to our local representatives, senators, President. And it probably doesn’t. Why should we be surprised that America is going to war despite the fact that most of the world opposes us, the United Nations oppose us, and a huge number of Americans oppose the war, too? Did we expect anything better from a man who didn’t even win the American people’s vote?

Several months ago, there was talk about Iraq being a “rogue state”. What does that mean? That Saddam Hussein is a tyrant, winning his people over through fear, propaganda, and force? How is that different from our President? Who are we to say who is a rogue, who is an outlaw, and who isn’t? Aren’t we the outlaws of the world? With so many Americans lining the streets protesting against this war, how can our President say “i respectfully disagree”? Isn’t it his job to do that which reflects the voice of his people?

I live in a rogue state. I live in a country where my leader was not democratically elected, whose decisions do not represent the opinions of his people, who uses the media and advertising to terrorize and terrify his own people into believing that there is no other choice but to follow him. George Bush may not have planned the events of September 11th, but he’s certainly capitalizing off of them. I live in a country where if I’m not with President Bush, I’m with the terrorists. I guess that means I’m with the terrorists.

I live in a rogue state.

Just because we disagree with the President does not mean we are treasonous. Democracy means people have opposing views. We are patriots because we care about our country and care what happens to it, and we care about the world, and the effects of what our country is doing to it. We are patriots because we disagree. that is our right, our privilege as Americans.