Categories
Diversity

Hands gloved, legs crossed at the knees

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I appreciated the folks that commented on the Gender Ghetto and G Quotient postings. I am lucky to have thoughtful readers.

I have to admit, though, that I am disappointed by the lack of feminine response to the writings. I received honest, interested, humorous, even slightly angry responses from men, but few women, other than terrific posts from Maria and Elaine, and a comment by NetWoman. I don’t value less the comments made by men, particulary the excellents one that have been made; but this was an issue about women, and if they’re not interested, why am I wasting my time or energy.

(Perhaps the women think this is nothing more than a way to generate links for myself. A hell of a situation when one can’t start a conversation — or try and start a conversation — and be seen as nothing more than a link whore.)

More likely though, most women believe that the issue is either not of interest, or that my bitchy, non-feminine ways are not the way to go for women to make an impact. I’ve been told that my strident ways are off-putting to the men, and the men have been kind enough to let me know that my bitching isn’t going to win points with them. All that I’m doing is feeding their ego, and not helping the cause of women. Perhaps they’re right.

Today’s woman, at least in the countries where women have an illusion of control over their lives, wants to get ahead by focusing on women’s positive contributions, rather than men’s oppressive behavior. You catch more flies with honey and all that rot.

I am not a modern woman I guess. Or perhaps I’ve read too much history and seen that rarely does change occur by appeasing those in control. However, I am also not one to throw my good time away on bad causes, so to the appreciations of one and all, I’m sure, this will be my last posting on women and weblogging and women and technology and women in the Western World.

Rather, I’ll focus on those women for whom the issue of equality is one of life and death, rather than trying not to be strident or to offend the nice men.

Categories
Critters Photography Writing

Robin Redbreast

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

We had another flock of robins come through again today. Many more females this time since they are on a southern migration, not northern. Robins are ground feeding birds, so it’s surprising how fast and agile they are in the air.

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Robins have long been the harbingers of spring, but for some reason, the robin is also associated with war and even with death. I wonder if its because its a migratory bird, leaving in the winter and returning in the spring. Leaving and winter reminds us of loss, while spring and returning remind us of hope.

As coincidence would have it Loren discussed Stanley Kunitz’s poem “Robin Redbreast” this week:

 

It was the dingiest bird
you ever saw, all the color
washed from him, as if
he had been standing in the rain,
friendless and stiff and cold,
since Eden went wrong.

Loren covered the poem on Veteran’s Day a day when we honor our veterans from so many wars. When I was driving yesterday, the radio played a set of ads from different organizations and companies and people in celebration of Veteran’s Day. The word Freedom was central to each and every one.

Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.

At poets.org, I found Sara Teasdale’s poem “There will come soft rains” that references a robin. I liked it, but it, too, is somber:

 

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white,

Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

 

The page noted that this was a war time poem. My first reaction was: which war?

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But robins are also a harbinger of spring, and they cheer me so with their puffed up chests of bright scarlet; like an old-time politician thrusting out his well-filled belly before shaking the hands of Father, while patting baby Suzy on the head.

Robins are also a contradiction: they’re a territorial bird, independent and individual, but they migrate in flocks. It’s comical to watch them when they fly as a group — they fly their own path within the flock’s path, and it looks like this big disorganized cloud of fast moving but fiercely chaotic smoke. When they land on the holly berry trees, they start to squabble when others land nearby but then remember, “Oh yeah. That’s right. Cooperate’, and settle in to feed.

Today though they picked a holly tree that has a large, well entrenched grey squirrel nest in it. The birds drove that poor squirrel to distraction — just as he chased one off, another would land.

Everything is a pest for something else.

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P.S. Back online when the move and conversion are finished.

Categories
outdoors Photography Places

On a wing and a prayer

Someday I’m either going to get shot for trespassing or hit a deer in the dark.

The drive to the wildlife refuge was longer than I expected, and cloud cover cut into the afternoon light. By the time I pulled in, it was too dark and too gray to get any pictures, though I did explore a trail by the edge of the lake, grabbing some pictures with the digital. Don’t expect much, the light wasn’t good. I’ll have to try another refuge next time, as this one doesn’t allow you to get close enough to the birds for photos.

Close enough to shoot though. On the other side of a stand of trees surrounding the lake was the area where hunters are allowed, and hunting season is in full swing. The sound reminded me of my childhood — walking along the edge of weedy ponds, on a cold and gray day with a slight smell of wood smoke in the air and the faint faraway sounds of shotguns and the bay of hunting dogs.

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On the way back home I passed a field and in the sky were hundreds of Canadian Geese circling about preparing to land. They were as thick as starlings and you can imagine with the size of the bird what that was like. I didn’t even pull over, I just stopped on the road and rolled down my window and watched as several V shapes would meet and collide, only to break apart and swirl around each other.

Smart birds. Land in a farmer’s field rather than the shooting gallery waiting for them at the lake.

I used to watch the geese circle for a place to land when I worked for Boeing years ago, and would take my smoke break outside. We worked in a new building built on former wetland, in an area that formed the new industrial park of Seattle back when Seattle’s fortunes were just beginning to take off. I worked there for a few years and every year, there would be less green and more cement and it would be harder for the migrating geese to find a home.

Finally, all the geese had was a strip of green between two roads not far from where I worked, but my last summer there, they dug up the green and put in rocks and some tasteful everygreens. That Fall, when the geese arrived they circled about and we could hear them but not see them in the drizzle. Their voices became fainter and fainter as they looked for their little strip of land but couldn’t find it.

Luckily today’s geese had no problems.

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There was an old house on the side of the road I’d seen coming down that looked perfect for photographs. The light was right for pictures on the way back, and I wasn’t worried about someone being there because the place looked like no one had lived there for years. I pulled over and grabbed a couple of shots before the door opened, and an old man came out on the porch.

“Can I help you with something?”, he asked and the way he asked it let me know that my answer better be, No.

“Sorry, I saw your house from the road, and it was so, uhm, pretty, that I wanted to stop and get a closer look.”

“Well, this is private property Miss. You’ll want to be moving on now.”

“Yes, uh, yes. Sorry.” I jumped in the car and backed out on the road, barely looking to see if anyone was around, all the time being watched by the man on the porch. It was only then that I saw the TV antenna on the old roof.

oldhouse.jpg

Today was my first long trip I’ve taken in some time and I found that I didn’t enjoy it as much as I usually do. I had another road trip planned for the end of the month but all I want to do now is stay home, go for walks in familiar, favorite places, and read.

I’ve been in such a quiet mood lately, and it seems worse tonight. Maybe its a combination of tooth and jaw ache — driving home in the dark on back country roads in the middle of hunting season is asking to hit a deer and I clench my jaw every time one jumps along the side of the road, or you see your lights reflected in their eyes. As much back country driving as I do, its only a matter of time before I hit a deer, they’re as thick as mice in the Missouri country side.

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I did come close to hitting an animal today, but it wasn’t a deer, and it wasn’t at night.

On Highway 36 heading west I was going along at about 55 with a small white car hung off my back fender like a burr on a donkey’s ass. It’s never a good idea to tailgate in any circumstance, but its worse in the country because there’s always something in the road.

Sure enough we topped a small rise next to an overpass and I saw a dark four legged figure by the side of the road. I pumped my brakes to warn the car behind me of danger ahead and to get his butt back. Just when I recognized that what I thought was a deer was, instead, a large dog, the dog moved on to the road and just stopped in our lane and looked towards my car. I hit my brakes, hard, and the car behind me ran off the road on to the shoulder to avoid hitting me.

The dog didn’t move, just looked at me with its shoulders hunched, and tail hanging limply down. The driver of the other car, all blonde haired, blue eyed 30-something young privledged white mama’s boy of him, was quite agitated but I wasn’t going to run the dog over because he was driving like an idiot. I ignored him. He wasn’t hurt, just inconvenienced, and hopefully given a well deserved lesson. He took off while I was still in the middle of the road, looking at the dog, it looking at me.

When the shoulder was clear of the nuisance, I don’t know why I did it, but I pulled over, put on the emergency lights, got out of the car and called out to the dog, “Here puppy.” Puppy?

The old dog had walked to the other side, but stopped, turned around, and looked at me when he heard me call. Cars would travel between us, but we just stood there looking at each other. It was a very large dog, with grey matted hair that looked as if it was coming loose in patches. It was so thin, you could see its ribs. And its tail stayed hanging down, slight tipped in so that it was almost but not quite between its legs.

I’m not a city-bred girl and I know the dangers of an unknown dog on a back country road. It was a damn foolish thing to stop, and worse to get out of the car. I suppose there was something about its eyes that made me stop. I wondered though what I would do if he did come up to me.

He did this odd little dance, heading towards the hill, and then turning back to the road to face me, then back to the hill, as if he wanted to come to me but he’d been offered that hope before and it always came out false. Eventually he headed up the hill but partway up, he turned around one more time and just looked at me for a moment before disappearing over the top.

I didn’t do that dog a favor by slamming on my brakes.

duck.jpg

Categories
Diversity

The Gender Ghetto

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

The sun is out and I’m heading out to get pictures of flocking birds while I can, weighed down by three cameras, six lenses (including one 300mm), and various stands and other accoutrement.

Speaking of flocking, the email conversation yesterday that led to the G Quotient posting, ended up generating an interesting conversation, at least among the women on the group. And a few men, but most of the men on the list were noticeably silent. Normally I don’t like to reference external communications in this weblog because it makes it seem like I’m going, “I was there and you weren’t! Neener, neener!” But in this case, yesterday’s conversation should have taken place on the weblog in the first place, and hence the move.

The power of weblogs is that anyone can have one and post their thoughts online. There is a true democracy at work. However, a democracy isn’t always the best form of group organization within a heterogeneous body. What happens is that the majority tends to hold all the influence.

Supposedly within weblogging, women form over 50% of the webloggers, and yu would think that they then receive 50% of the links. However, what I’m finding, at least in the weblog circle that I tend to traverse on my daily prowls, is that links to women occur much less frequently than links to men. I’m not talking blogroll links; I’m talking about links to posts, with associated commentary.

No big deal, you say. After all, anyone can have a blog and yadda yadda ya.

The big deal is that if within the new semantic web we talk about, we’re saying that the link is where meaning arises and discovery occurs — so what happens when 50% of the population receives 25% of the attention? Or more specifically, what happens when women, to get more of this attention, form groups of webloggers linking to each other, but get scant attention from the males hereabouts? My friend Sheila had the perfect word for it — the women are effectively becoming ghettoed.

I wrote in an email yesterday (edited to fit this format):

If it’s through links that we discover each other, and within the new web, the semantic web we’ve discussed recently it’s through the link where meaning is discovered, then what happens when women are not linked? Or are only linked within certain contexts? This isn’t necessarily about individuals; this is about how women are ultimately being ghettoed online, by link and by association. Or lack thereof.

It shouldn’t matter who we link to, and how we frame that link, but it does. Can’t we be honest enough with ourselves about this?

Baldly stated, women are second class citizens in weblogging, and this classification is enforced through links. We can say good writing is all that matters, but thats the same as saying there’s less women in the technorati 100 because women can’t write. Or if politics is the issue, then women never talk about politics. I don’t see this within my own reading.

But do we talk about these things differently, in such a way that male writing has more appeal? And since men have most of the link power, like goes to like? I don’t know. Would be a fascinating study, wouldn’t it?

The buzz sheets, who cares, but influence, yeah I care about that. And not only are women not as represented, but the women who were in the sheets have been dropping. About the only ones rising are the warbloggers — so maybe this is really about politics.

As Kevin pointed out in my comments, at first glance women may not seem as represented in the buzz sheets, but if you start looking at all of the group weblogs, there are more women then first appears. So I went snooping among the Technorati Top 100.

First, I found that only about 55 of the Top 100 are weblogs in the true sense of the term. I also found that people don’t update their blogrolls because more than one site had moved and the link was dead (what does that say about the Top whatever sheets that we see? That blogrolls are more a matter of habit than use?)

Secondly, my reaction was: who are these people? I have never heard of several of them, but then a quick look at the writing showed me that they’re primarily within the ‘warblogging’ domains, and I only visit these circles when I’m feeling particularly pugnatious. There was also more than foreign language weblog (which I put into other if I couldn’t determine the gender) and several LiveJournal weblogs.

However, doing a count and placing weblogs into male, female, both, and other, I came up with the following counts:

Male – 38

Female – 7

Both – 3

Other – 7

Feel free to check my facts. Even if all the others resolve to female, which I don’t think they will, women are represented in only 31% of the top weblogs — and that’s throwing in the influence of the women in the group blogs.

The Blogging Ecosystem seems to have a better distribution of women to men, but closer inspection shows that women are still badly underrepresented in the upper ranks.

Why? If we do link to women less than men, why?

I know for myself that coming from a technology background, I tend to link to other technologists and most of them are men. Or at least, that’s what I thought. What I’m finding is that there are a lot more women technologists online, but they don’t necessarily get the focus or the attention.

Hmmm. Now, why is that?

I wondered if it was because men tend to write about specific uses of technology, which women tend to talk about the human influence of the technology. After all in the semenatic web discussion recently, that was my contribution.

(Which so traumatized the Guys of Geek that they’ve since spent their time since comparing each other’s….early geek experiences.)

But then there’s Julie Lerman’s .NET blog (good lord, do you see how few women there are that are .NET bloggers?), or Scripty Goddess. Betsy Devine did the code thing today, with an interesting segue into The Graduate.

However, one big difference is that the women technologists rarely venture into technologies that are, bluntly, focused around one of weblogging’s Big Dogs — Dave Winer. In fact, aside from myself, the only women I know of who have waded into RSS or Weblogging APIs or Atom or any of these discussions has been Dorothea Salo and Liz Lawley and I believe Betsy and Meg Hourian have also in the past. If there are other women involved in these discussions I don’t know of them because they’re not being linked!. I only know about Dorothea and Liz because they’re part of my neighborhood, not because they’ve been linked by the tech community overmuch.

Hmmm. Now why is that?

Here’s a thought: Perhaps its because neither of them calls Dave Winer an asshole enough to generate attention. In other words, its not that women aren’t talking tech, it’s that few women are joining the religous battles about technology, and it is these that generate the buzz.

In fact, if you look at many of the top linked women webloggers on all the the lists you see three significant factors that could explain their prominance:

1. The weblogger is an early adoptee, for instance Meg HourihanRebecca Blood, and xeni at Boing Boing.

2. The weblogger is emotionally charged, many times pugnacious.

3. For all, the weblogger has been linked more than once by one or more of weblogging lodestones, people with significant influence.

The early adoptee women tend not to be pugnacious, but the women entering the weblogging circles after the initial founders to tend to be. I don’t mean this in a negative sense — just that they have strong likes and dislikes and few inhibitions about expressing them.

Most importantly, though, and a characteristic shared by all the women is that they are linked, sometimes frequently, by one or more lodestone weblogs — Scripting News, Boing Boing, Instapundit, Doc Searls, and Jason Kottke, give or take another lodestone weblog or two.

(The only weblogs that defy this characteristic is the LiveJournal weblogs. If anything, true weblogging democracy is demonstrated within the LiveJournal weblogs more than within any other inner circle within weblogging. )

Do women then have to take on the guise of handmaiden to the gods of virtuality to be an influence?

This then returns me to my original thought about links and influence, and the gender ghetto. Yes weblogging is open to all and anyone can publish online, but one’s reach, one’s influence is directly related to how much one is linked. You may be an inspiration to your circle, but if you circle has three readers, your influence is not as great as someone linked by a thousand readers.

Most times this isn’t an issue — who cares if you’re linked or not as long as you’re satisfied by your readers and what you write, and I agree with this. But what happens as weblogging becomes more influential in politics and social reform? Women’s voices have not not been heard as loudly as they should in these areas in the past — is this same lack of influence now going to be taken into the communication media of the future?

Think about that picture of President Bush signing the new abortion law and you all wrote, “Look there are no women present.”

Are women linked less because our voices are different? Are we not as confident when making our assertions and are therefore less quotable? Are we not as aggressive in our opinions, and therefore less interesting?

It could be that women in weblogging share much with our sisters in ancient Japan, where women wrote in one language while men wrote in another and Women’s Writing was tantamont to being a derogatory statement. But it was the Women’s Writing that survives to today; perhaps this new form of Women’s Writing will the only writing that survives into the future. We know that quality of writing or subject matter is not a factor in any of this — quality exists across gender, and subject matter ranges far and wide with both sexes. Perhaps our influence will stand the test of time.

But then I look at that photo of all those men standing around the President signing into law a bill that could effectively condemn some women to death; I think about women’s lack of representation as tech workers and CEOs in this country; women being denied equality in education, employment, health care, and even justice in other countries; women being stoned to death for adultery while men screw with impunity; and I am not content to be an influence in a thousand years.

I want to be an influence now.

Categories
Technology

State of Greek: Interchangeable Parts

I had promised to return and finish the State of Geek series, but I haven’t been in much of a mood for it. I have such mixed feelings about ‘geek’ lately. I am once a geek, but I am also not a geek — one foot in, one foot out.

The good news about the job market would seem to preclude these writings because, as it seems, the problems are all gone — hail, hail, the jobs all here. But you know, and I know, these jobs are not geek jobs. No, the hot degree now is in Business — the degree we laughed at when we trotted out into the work force with our hot and heavy tech credentials.

(Where were the laurel leaves and the whispered, “Thou art mortal. Thou art mortal.” in those days?)

America has become a service economy, which means we export raw material and import finished product and most people are employed facilitating this whole process. But among the moving parts, don’t count on tech or manufacturing. And the smug bunch holding up their biotech degrees? Remember those laurel leaves — you’re next.

All in all, this is not a healthy situation for a country to be in, but it is a short-term cost effective solution for corporations barely able to keep up with their bonus payments and still show inflated profits each quarter.

Still, I am less a geek now than I am a writer or photographer. Why should I care that the geek jobs go overseas? You might say my geek job caught that ship two years ago, and two years is a long time to stand on the pier, waving Bye bye. Bye bye.

Then I read stories such as a recent one in the Mercury News (thanks to Head Lemur and Ralph Poole):

Avinash Vashistha, managing director at San Ramon-based offshore consulting firm NeoIT, loves telling the story of asking a Silicon Valley executive this year which jobs he could offshore.

“Could you move this person’s job?’’ asked Vashistha.

“Oh, no,’’ the executive said. “I couldn’t move her job. She’s been here for 25 years. It would take eight people to do her job.’’

“Very well, we’ll hire eight people to replace her,’’ Vashistha said.

NeoIT calculated that the company could hire eight people to replace that one longtime employee and still save 20 percent by moving the entire division overseas, Vashistha said.

There is become two types of people in the world — those who control and those who work. When we, who work, become nothing more than cheap, non-differentiated interchangeable parts to those who control, then there’s a lot more at stake than some geek jobs in the States.