fredag 11 januari 2013

On Passion

I love programming. It is the perfect blend of logic, mathematics and language. I frequently feel like my brain was made for programming. When I took my first stumbling steps in the landscape of code (on a TI-83+ calculator) I grokked the concepts almost immediately. Moving further on, from TI-BASIC into C++, with the introduction of functions, classes and so on, only made things easier. The power! I picked up programming comparably late, and learned fast. I'm not one of those people who talk about the good ol' C64 with a dreamy look on their face.

I love games. I love making them, I love playing them. The freedom they give you, the ability to create anything, to be anyone. The possibilities for exploration through simulation, delving into concepts otherwise beyond human observation. Their uncanny ability to make even the most boring of chores into a fun competition, with the addition of some carefully balanced game mechanics.
I heard Valve are developing a teaching aid based on Portal, to help students grasp the concept of the fourth dimension.
So, game programmer should be the perfect job for me. But I also love working with my hands: carpenting, painting, sewing, growing food, and generally tinkering. And when I am unable to find a good balance between the brainy and the more practical creation, I get frustrated and unhappy. At my former job (also game programming), I once got the task of painting a shelf we had bought for the office kitchen. My boss remarked that he hadn't seen me look that happy in weeks, as I did when I was painting that shelf.

I felt a very strong passion for my last job. It was such a great place, with a fantastically friendly and knit-together team. I was so loyal to both the product we made and to the people I worked with. And now, when that's all over, I feel empty. The new job I finally settled on, after lots of travelling around and doing interviews, is in no way a bad place. My colleagues all seem like a friendly bunch, management seem like reasonable and level-headed people, and there are some exciting things in the pipeline. I can't point to anything that's wrong with the studio. It's just that I have such a hard time finding any real enthusiasm for the job. It's like I've decided that what we had at the last studio is something I will never experience again. That's probably a somewhat destructive perspective. I think I'm grieving a bit.

Then there's the slight issue of colliding ideals. I am genuinely worried - no, worried isn't strong enough - convinced that we are exploiting and disrupting Earth's ecosystems so much that they will no longer be able to sustain our current societies. I believe we will start seeing the signs of societal collapse during my lifetime. And for this, I primarily blame the growth-driven consumerist economical system. Now, the problem is that the company I work for feeds and is fed by the consumerist society, in a very blatant way. This collision of values leads to cognitive dissonance, and a constant shame for what I do. Shame is difficult to combine with pride and passion.

So, to conclude: I have managed to find myself a job for which I feel very little passion (other that my passion for programming itself), no loyalty, and where I am ashamed of what I do. Well done, Anarhichas, well done indeed. 

Of course, I do have a long-term plan for fixing all this. It's just so very... long-term.

måndag 7 januari 2013

Trying not to be

I've been wanting to give my few cents regarding #1reasonwhy (for those not familiar, #1reasonwhy is the tag of an ongoing discussion about why there are so few women in game development). Yes, this post will be about "gender crap".

First of all, I want to stress that I personally, as a woman working in the extremely male-dominated field of game programming, have hardly experienced any problems related to my lack of Y-chromosome. Actually, I can not recall any weird treatment whatsoever from co-workers. The only more serious incident that comes to mind is at a job interview when the guy who was interviewing me seemed to be doing his best to insult me.

I'll elaborate on that interview, because I think it's a funny story.  He said quite a few things that upset me:
  • "So, do you play any games at all?" (Shouldn't the default assumption be that a game developer plays games? I had certainly not said anything to indicate otherwise.) 
  • "Was getting into the game industry just a career move for you?" (After having told him that I had spent the last few years working for an underfinanced and ultimately unsuccessful startup studio. And, well, let's just say the games industry isn't exactly the best paid job a programmer can get in my country...)
  • "It's hard to hire girls, because most girls aren't very smart." (Comments superfluous...)
Needless to say, turning down that company's job offer was a no-brainer (I also did my best to make their HR-department realize that there might be a reason why they had a hard time finding female developers).

Aside from that one interview, which is the only time I can recall having been treated badly in a professional setting, there are of course the usual awkward situations at game industry gatherings. For example, people just staring in disbelief when finding out what I do, or assuming I'm an artist despite having just told them I'm a coder, or wonder how I can possibly enjoy programming games (and this was from a guy who was also a game coder - hilarious). But I don't see that as a big deal.

So, do I think the whole debate is exaggerated and driven by over-reacting hysterical women? No. Why? First, obviously, just because I don't have any significant bad experiences doesn't mean all the other stories out there are less important, or less true. But what I think is most significant in all this, is the underlying attitudes that spawn these problems. And these attitudes are in no way limited to the game industry.

I can't say much about the situation outside geek culture (since geek culture is what I am saturated in and have experice from), but I have become aware for the last few years that the prevailing perspective among geeks in general is very male-centric. Expressed more clearly: Being a man is inherently better than being a woman. An example of this is how often "manly" or "male" is used as a very positive descriptor of something or someone - implying "female" as the negative counterpart. That terminology is something I find myself, and many really nice guys I know, guilty of using all the time.
manly = good

In one of the #1reasonwhy stories that hit home the hardest with me, the author talked about how she had tried really hard all her career not to be perceived as a woman. (I can't find it at the moment, will add the link as soon as I do.) That is exactly what my subconscious strategy has been, ever since I hit puberty actually. I have only started to realize this the last couple of years - that I am afraid and ashamed of exhibiting any attributes traditionally associated with women. Why is that? It's not like I'm transgendered...

A lot of this comes to show in my appearance. I never wear makeup. I've never been to a hairdresser in my entire life. Even though I like to wear skirts, I would never wear one to work (and I'm talking shin- or ankle-length skirts here, not the knee or [gasp] thigh-length varieties). I carefully avoid showing too much skin (a former boyfriend once told me I was the "most dressed" person he knew). I only recently started wearing clothes in which the shape of the body can be seen (i.e., other clothes than big T-shirts, hoodies, and baggy jeans). Sure, it happens that I put on a skirt or a dress for a party with friends, but in professional settings I somehow feel that if I mark myself too clearly as a woman I would not be taken seriously, I would not seem like a real programmer.
That's not a skirt.

That's a skirt!

When trying to get into any social context, especially among geeks, I always strive to become "one of the guys" as quickly as possible - at the expense of getting to know the other women who might be there. When someone asks me about my gaming habits, I tend to mention FPS rather than adventure games or board games as my genre of choice. And I prefer not to say that I play as medic in Battlefield and Planetside. This comic illustrate my fear very well - the fear of being somehow revealed to be "fake" (not just as a geek or a gamer, but as a competent professional).

Is this behaviour irrational? I don't know. Would I have been less lucky with my game-industry adventures if I didn't try so hard not to be perceived as a woman? Frankly, I don't think I dare to put it to the test.

torsdag 3 januari 2013

It is time.

I have felt it for a few months now. Felt the need to express myself, the desire for a place where I can relate to what I read. The need for opportunity to introspect, to delve into what I feel and think. Besides, it's about time, though being the chronic lurker I am it is no surprise that I would be late to the blogging party. 

A couple of words about the blog name. The name is of course inspired by the Hipster INTJ blog, but I have no relation to that blog other than having it in my RSS feed. This blog is not about Myers-Briggs. "Hippie" and "INTJ" are simply words that describe me well, sound OK together, and their combined scope is broad enough to encompass most of what I expect to write here. 
 

Blog Manifesto

I've considered what I want this blog to be, and what I do not want it to be. I might as well write it down, so that all involved (which, at the time of writing, is just myself) know what to expect.
  • I will write about thoughts and emotions, rather than activities and events.
  • I will write primarily for myself. If anyone else wants to read, that's all well and good, but the purpose of this blog is not to attract followers. 
  • This blog will be pseudonymous. (So if you're reading this and happen to know who I am, I ask you not to identify me in comments or linked posts.)
  • The style will be personal rather than academic.
  • I will write about any subject that I feel like writing about. Thus, this blog will not have any one specific theme. I will however make good use of tags to identify the subject of each post, to make things easier for both writer and reader. 
  • I will not write unless I have something sufficiently substantial to write about. That means I will not write regularly. 
  • I am not allowed to post autobiographical anecdotes unless they are really relevant to the subject. 
  • If I cannot adequately express what I want in English, I will express it in my first language instead.