Women Who Code has been around for more than a decade, longer than the entirety of my career in software and tech, and certainly longer than DEV has been around. It was an organization that bridged people together, offered opportunities to folks who could not afford otherwise, and had the important mission of empowering women to excel in tech careers.
To me, the organization has been an industry staple, and in learning of its shut down, I’m realizing that the existence of Women Who Code has also been a great mental comfort.
This past International Women’s Month, we ran WeCoded, our annual celebration of gender equity in software development on DEV. Participation has been on an ever-decline since “the early days” when Women’s Marches were taking over headlines across the world. This year, a majority of our WeCoded posts were full of frustration and exhaustion.
The software industry has experienced some pretty intense highs and lows the last couple of years, and with that, it has felt like the dialogue around gender equity and inclusivity have gone out the door. Big companies don’t seem to be allocating budget towards DEIB (diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging) efforts anymore, and the underrepresented groups of people who are impacted are understandably too tired to physically or emotionally rally.
As a founder, I get to operate from a position of power – my ideas and comments are taken seriously by my team, by default. I have the privilege of experiencing equity in the workplace as my norm, and when I don’t, there are no barriers in the way for me to speak up and be heard.
But when I’m not directly working with my team, I have a completely different experience. People assume all sorts of things about me just by looking at me, and even after mentioning that I know how to code, that I work in tech, that I run a community for software developers, etc, etc, oftentimes I’m dismissed and boxed out of conversations between The Men. Even very progressive men who self-identify as feminists have unintentionally boxed me out. Looking at you, Mr. Computer Science Professor…
Whether on the playground or at a tech conference, I have to fight for men to recognize my worth by flaunting and sticking my accomplishments in their face in a very unnatural way. These interactions pain and enrage me, and are reminders of what most women and underrepresented people endure (via microaggressions, glass ceilings, etc) in their daily lives at work.
Women Who Code shutting down really scares me. We’re losing a safe place for camaraderie, for venting, for education, for mentorship, for motivation, for solidarity. I’m not privy to any details but the general concept that this long-time nonprofit that relied on donations from an overall prosperous tech sector, couldn’t make it, is alarming and discouraging. It’s a signal of our industry’s overall lack of desire towards making forward progress. It feels like my fears of stagnancy and going backwards in time is being confirmed, and that we can’t stop this hemorrhaging of women leaving tech. If not for my position of power, I doubt I’d still be in tech myself.
After sitting with this news for a day, I’ve realized that the one thing I can “keep going” on is to continue supporting WeCoded on DEV. I was never a super active member of Women Who Code, yet I was immediately triggered and impacted by their dissolvement. Upon reflection, my only conclusion is that spaces for women and minorities to gather are really important. So despite diversity and inclusion not being ‘hot’ anymore, I’m going to make sure that WeCoded returns to DEV every year. Even if it’s just one brave person shouting into the void, I’ll do my best to make sure we elevate their voice.
If you haven’t already, please check out our collection of stories and advice:
we_coded is a celebration of individuals who are underrepresented and otherwise marginalized in software development on the basis of gender: including women, transgender, nonbinary, gender non-conforming, and two spirit people.
Thanks for reading <3