A letter to my love, my friend, my wife and my partner — Dusty:

I know it’s the day before Valentines — some things can’t wait just for a day.

Ten years — that’s how long we’ve been with one another. Ten years feels like a lifetime — so much has changed — our lives altered in subtle — and not so subtle ways by the gentle currents of each other. In the time I’ve known you, we have both changed for the better — we compliment and act as one another’s confidant, friend, partner and lovers.

“The most powerful symptom of love is a tenderness which becomes at times almost insupportable.” — Victor Hugo

We’ve been through our times of trial — little things like accidentally renting an apartment in a war zone (my bad!) — and much bigger things from health, to finances, to not know what we were doing or where we were going. We both know that this past year has been probably the one most filled with trials and tribulations.

We’ve sat across from one another not knowing what we were going to do, we’ve held each others hands watching our infant daughter laying in a hospital bed — I’ve held your hand at your bedside in watching your pain and not knowing what to do about it, except to sit there and watch your pain. We’ve been through a lot in ten years.

Despite the trials — we have made each other stronger. You have changed who I am in such fundamental and subtle ways, that I attribute much of who I am now, to you. You have made me happier, stronger, more empathetic — you have also given me the cherished gift of your love, your tears and support in my times of pain.

You have given me more than just your love; you gave me our first daughter Abby — who might as well be a tiny clone of myself in female form (god help us all), who despite her willfulness and strong personality makes my heart jump each time I hear her laugh, each time she runs to me and hugs me and tell me she loves me.

Abby is almost five! Five years old! All parents gush about how smart their children are — but we both know there’s something special and unique about her. There’s more to her than a pushy 4.5 year old, there’s something magical about her that we both see. I can not verbalize or put to words my thanks to you for her. She’s a gift you’ve given to me.

Then there is Addison, our bubbling eight month old. What can I say about someone who greats me with a smile and a laugh whether it’s five in the morning, or me just coming home from a hard day at work?

Addison is more than a gift; she’s a blessing — the past year shows that even in our darkest hours, sitting there in a hospital not knowing what will happen, something watches over us. Addison’s happiness and flourishing is not just due to doctors, or therapists — it’s directly tied to the amazing love and care you provide to her.

Every time I look at Addison, I see an extension of you — your smile, your happiness (and when she giggles when she rams me with her walker, your sense of humor). Addison is again, a gift and blessing you’ve given me.

You’ve given me so much; you’ve changed me so much. You’ve made me look outside of myself and think of others — you, our daughters, you’ve driven me to try to change the world and help as many people as I can. You’ve driven me to be better — a better man, a better husband, father and human.

Times change — people change. We have our hard times — we have those times when we both want to go lock ourselves in the bathroom just to get a moment of quiet. We have times when we just don’t know what will come, and times when we wish what had came had not. We have persevered over the hard times we’ve faced until now, and those hard times we face now, we face together, as one.

You are beautiful — you always have been, you are strong — you are honest and critical. I might say half-jokingly that you’re my better half some times — but you really and truly are (You are also better looking than me!).

You, and the gifts have given me — our daughters, have given me more than a reason to just keep working, just to keep moving from day to day. You’ve given me a reason to truly live, to truly push myself beyond anything I could have imagined eleven years ago. You’ve given me a place and arms to cry in, to laugh in, and to grow in. You’ve given me a view of life, of living, of loving I never dreamed of having.

I know that once again we face hard times. I thought that perhaps this year might be a little easier on us — but so far, we both know it isn’t, and there are probably harder times coming for us. I am sorry that I can not always give to you all the things you so richly deserve — I’d give you anything, I’d buy you anything if I could. I am sorry I don’t have anything I can give you today other than my words — darn those hard times!

My gift to you is this — my expression of how much I truly value you, cherish you and how grateful I am — in spite of all the hard times — the good times, the memories, our daughters and most importantly our love. I am but a broken man, but with you I am whole.

Thank you for being who you are.

Thank you for being with me.

Thank you for loving me.

Thank you for letting me love you in return.

Jesse

p.s. Churchill loves you too:

You can see from the post quite a bit of the capital spent goes to support other conferences — as I’ve stated before, money that comes into the foundation in the forms of donations and PyCon “revenue” goes back into the system to be issued out to things like this.

This is why I am so hot to encourage grants around Porting to Python 3 — I think that the PSF can, in the next year, increase grant work for conference and outreach as well as developer work (such as porting libraries and other projects). None of these things should be solely focused on CPython alone — PyPy, Jython, etc should all be recipients of grants.

And therein lies the rub.

The PSF does not “go looking” for places to issue grants — the PyPy grant at PyCon 2011 was a bit of an aberration in that I proposed it to the board directly.

We need applications from the community! We can do things such as cover meetup fees for user groups, or help fund conferences, or development work. Jessica McKellar, I and others recently revamped the PSF grants page to hopefully provide a better outline of how grants work.

If you have more questions — feel free to ask me here or via email — the PSF’s mission is happily broad, and we’re here to serve and represent the community as best we can. But we do need to hear from you!

In this post’s case, I’m taking stock of the things that changed for me — things that stick out in my mind and projects I’ve either started, floundered or run completely into ground.

Design and Experience Matter

Perhaps the biggest shift for me in Python-as-a-whole is a movement more towards the social / management aspects. I’m a Python Software Foundation board member, so obviously me needing to take a “bigger view” isn’t that surprising. What has been surprising to me is that everywhere I turn, I see things we as a whole can do better.

Now, before you think I’m about to go off the deep end; let me assure you — I wouldn’t trade the community I’m lucky to be part of for anything, as I’ve said more eloquently before. However, only a fool believes that anything is perfect, and only the insane only focus on the flaws.

Taking a step back, I’ve seen more and more things that I think we can do a better job at, and these realizations all revolve around my continued “transition” from more back-end to more front-end design and coding. As I’ve become more focused on the users/community and those who are new, I’ve grown to internalize the fact that design and experience matter not only in code, and in a GUI, but they matter to a community and language as a whole.

I’ve spent the better part of this past year focused on issues around this — encouraging people to get involved in the “softer” side of things — helping out with documentation, mentorship and education, trying to get people to think more about one another and those just getting started and introduced to things.

I think that we as a community — and I mean everyone — from Django to Plone, from Twisted to Tornado, from PyPy to cPython can take a look at the “more human” aspects and find things to improve. Sometimes it requires fresh eyes to show you what’s broken — people who do code reviews regularly know this.

For an example, look at Kenneth Reitz’ Requests module — billed as “HTTP for Humans” — this might be a perfect example of the point I’m trying to get across. Built on top of “less friendly” libraries, it’s API is a joy to use. It’s simple, it’s clear — the documentation is well done and the entire project feels very welcoming. Perhaps “Welcoming” is the best word for what I’m looking for.

I get stuck in wanting to fix “all the things” — and I can’t help but get mired down in the details of how we make everything more welcoming and the experience better, how do we lower the barrier and reduce friction. The result is that I’ve broken my promises to myself and taken on more things than I can possibly hope to do justice.

How do we make things more welcoming, how do we help the new people, how do we help those of us growing stuck in our ways to find and explore new things? How can we do this as a community to lift us all up? What I think we need is a series of small, positive changes. Little things like, say:

• User friendly READMEs and Documentation. Yes — I said friendly — don’t assume your users are magical super smart engineers and users. While the article is more web focused, I enjoyed “The Myth of the Sophisticated User” — please don’t assume people are running bleeding edge version of everything, and please don’t assume everyone knows 20 years of Python package development.
• Mentorship! Set up something within your project or team that is focused on mentoring people to a point where that person is comfortable to be a contributor.
• Stop the vitriol. If you find yourself angry when you’re typing that reply to a mailing list; walk away. If you see others being hostile or just flat out rude, call them out on it (privately first, no reason to be a jerk). Aim to be polite and welcoming.
• The next time you’re putting something up on the web? Take a moment to think about or learn about making something — yes — pretty and usable. Even if it’s something simple, take a moment to realize that you’re building something that may be your future user’s first experience with you. It may be as simple as picking up “Design for Hackers” (which I quite liked) or just going with something with sane defaults — like twitter bootstrap.
• Speaking of sane defaults — please be opinionated. When a new user wants to install something, don’t give them the complete history of packaging, just gently explain to them how to do it. Even if I don’t agree with the way you do that, it’s a far cry from 20 years of development history being dumped on someone when a simple pip install <blah> could work. The same goes for your software: Pick sane, rational defaults and abstract away as much as you can. Put examples of usage before the API in documentation.
• APIs and syntax matter: your communications channels to your users are APIs and syntax just as much as your actual code and libraries.

Moving on — I hate to say it this way; but think of the Users and target audience. Remember, you — the person reading this — and I — are in a tiny minority of the population where software (for the most part) isn’t magic, we understand history and we’re very tolerant of unfriendly things and failures because that’s how we “grew up”.

Not everyone knows how to build an interpreter; or a web framework — it doesn’t mean they still can’t contribute.

The Python Software Foundation

As most of you know — I am one of the directors of the Python Software Foundation, and have been the past two years. 2011 was another year where the PSF got to do some pretty cool things. I’ve been stressing and pushing more and more that the PSF has to be focused not just on the “IP” of Python, or just on cPython development — we have to take a larger view of the entire community — this means encouraging projects such as PyPy, outreach workshops, conferences, etc via grants and support.

You should really take a look at the Python Software Foundation’s blog — Doug Hellmann, Brian Curtin and others have done their best to document and showcase what the PSF has been up to, and where we’re trying to help.

My primary focus has been encouraging things such as the Outreach and Education committee, and working behind the scenes with a lot of people to improve the Python.org infrastructure. More recently I’ve been working on a project which should hopefully become public soon — but is tied to my first point about Design and Experience and the PSF.

I want the PSF to grow in the good works it performs — more grants as we can afford it, getting better hosting for things as needed, helping out projects like Read The Docs or helping push forward Python 3. The PSF is the Python Software Foundation — we need and should be supporting and helping everything from PyPy to PyPI, cPython to Scipy.

I think the best way for me to help here is to pick up where I left off documenting the PSF. Once again — the design and interface matter.

The Sprints Committee

As part of my board work back in 2010 I helped start the Python Sprints project — and under Brian Curtin’s guidance in 2011, it has continued to make small donations in places it matters. In 2012, I’d like to see if I can spin back around and help it grow more and flourish, perhaps even be able to provide more money where it’s needed. It’s growth has been slow — but that’s also due to us seeing less sprints overall it seems.

GetPython3.com

Started as a side project (yes. another one. sigh.) Get Python 3 is meant to serve as a pile of information and resources about Python 3 — and as many of the aspects of Python 3 as possible. Where to get funding, how to port, what is ported. I’ve actually gotten some excellent help from others (see github) and I’m hoping to grow it more. I’ve gotten pretty good feedback on it — and I never turn down a patch!

Python (Core) Mentorship

Driven from my experience with the first point about being welcoming, I’ve done my best to spin up the Python Core Mentorship group, a team / list focused on mentoring new people into contributing to core Python. To quote the home page:

The mission of the Python Core Mentor Program is to provide an open and welcoming place to connect students, programmers – and anyone interested in contributing to the Python Core development. This project is based on the idea that the best way to welcome new people into any project is a venue which connects them to a variety of mentors who can assist in guiding them through the contribution process, including discussions on lists such as python-dev, and python-ideas, the bug tracker, mercurial questions, code reviews, etc.

While traffic is low, I think it has done it’s job — as with everything else on my list, I’d like to see growth — as it is, due to everything else on my plate, others have stepped up to help lead and guide the group. As it is, I’ve run into a case where as I’ve found with many other projects like this — people are already “tapped out” — myself included. More on resource contention later — and I should really do a poll and gauge the list for the relative level of success they feel the group has engendered.

Python Speed Project

Another side-burner project is the Speed.python.org project — this one makes me sad(der) than my other time-starved projects. While we have finally been able to set it up as a PyPy build slave and have it feeding results to speed.pypy.org (see the speed-python results), it has not taken off as much as I hoped. We have a beast of a machine (see my initial announcement) — but we’ve hit the resource wall like everything else. Not enough people with enough time and the right skills.

The Elephant in the room: PyCon 2012

My single biggest project this year has been getting PyCon 2012 ready to fly — everything from getting the new website launched, the staff assembled, writing a code of conduct, and providing white-glove service and support (and getting) our amazing list of sponsors.

I can’t really estimate how many hours I’ve “worked” on Python — but I can tell you every hour has been worth it. Even though it’s sucked my time from other things and projects, it looks like it’s going to be an amazing conference. We have robots, we have amazing talks, amazing keynote and plenary speakers (Paul Graham and Stormy Peters for starters). We have awesome tutorials and even more to come.

PyCon represents the single biggest “community act” that the Python Software Foundation performs — not only does the PSF fund PyCon, but it manages it, assumes the risk, etc. I wrote about it in detail in my post “Making the Case for Sponsorship” and in the “Everybody Pays” post. I’m hoping to continue to write up more and more of the details of the inner workings of PyCon, as I think it’s an important series of data points and lessons. Remember — any funds “left” from PyCon go the PSF which allow the foundation to issue grants to other conferences, to developers, groups and workshops. It helps us help you.

PyCon 2012 is the thing I am most proud of; we have 80 sponsors and partners (Such as OpenHatch and PyLadies), we have a solid team of organizers working together to bring PyCon 2012 to fruition. We have a robust financial aid program as is tradition. I can only hope that I have the tenacity and will to see it come together and be able to look at a sea of 1500 Pythonistas — new and old in Santa Clara.

ps: You can register here. :)

Blood from a Stone

How do you get more time from people who are busy? Time and Time again, I’ve found myself asking that question. Each one of the projects I’ve listed has hit the same issue over and over again. How do you get the volunteers necessary to help? Heck, even my call for help with multiprocessing in August fell on a mostly flat note — probably due to me.

I no longer feel “ok” asking for help with new projects simply due to the fact that I know everyone is busy — it’s insane of me to ask people to take their time away from their projects or families or jobs.

What that means however is that I have completely failed in the not-taking-on-new-things department — and I don’t see this changing much without me flat out learning to tell myself “no”. I believe in this community — I believe in the people, the friends I have, the language and everything involved. It’s not just another tool for me; it never has been. I’m still learning, and mostly failing (or flailing, depends on where I’m standing).

Finishing this one off

Looking at the list I’ve typed out above, I suddenly have the feeling that I didn’t actually do much last year, I know thats wrong (a nasty look from my family members would easily remind me of that). I have been able to help out where I can making things more friendly, more welcoming and to reach out when and where I can to offer help, and support.

I’ve watched the community change in some dramatic ways, I’ve looked on as PyPy has gained amazing momentum, more and more vendors and companies have come out with Python support and stating that they’re using Python (and are hiring). I’ve gotten to work with PSF members, the board, and many, many others — all I can do is keep at it, and hope I do things justice.

I’ve decided to break this reflection into two related parts — the more personal stuff (this one) and the big-P Python stuff — both have seen shifts and changes worth noting, and both are inextricably tied for me. I’ve intentionally skipped all of the Python** stuff (including PyCon) that I’ve been working on — that’s going to come next.

Personal Changes

In late 2010 I was playing paintball — something which everyone should try at least once — it truly is a blast. However, at the time I was grossly overweight (280/285 lbs heading to 300) and running around outdoors with 20+ lbs of equipment. It was a normal Sunday game when I pivoted in the perfectly wrong way — my foot had gotten stuck in some tree roots and when I pivoted, my right knee dislocated and I collapsed face-first into a pile of tree branches.

I did not realize that my knee has dislocated, just that my leg wasn’t working. I slapped my knee, hard, bent it and got up and kept playing. The adrenaline kept me going for several more hours while I continued to play on a knee of questionable veracity. When I got to my car a few hours later, all I knew is that my knee felt funny, and my cargo pants where tight where my knee was.

When I got home and changed, the truth came out. My knee had swollen to the size of a cantaloupe and turned several ugly colors. I figured I has injured it, and largely ignored it. Then the pain set in the next day.

Fast forward through many doctor appointments, MRIs, and two more dislocations — once getting my daughter out of the bathtub which required my wife to come in and put my knee back into place because I was busy crying on the floor, and the second just getting out of bed. My knee, from that initial dislocation had become very weak. The doctor told me flat out that I needed physical therapy and rehab, otherwise surgery was going to be required.

He told me I needed to change things. Looking at myself in the mirror, I realized that something had to be done — I was stressed, overweight and my path was out of whack. I couldn’t deal with surgery with three year old and a now pregnant wife. I got a cortisone shot and went up the street to the local Bikram Yoga studio — I had never done yoga before — I walked in, slapped down some money and went into a 120 degree studio.

This is a photo of my from June 2010:

I became a Bikram convert over night — the owner of the local studio Bob is an amazing man, friendly, kind — all of the instructors helped me through learning and growing and pushing through the pain, the heat and everything that comes with a grossly overweight ex-smoker who was drinking 2+ pots of coffee a day jumping in head first. I quickly ramped to doing classes 3 times a week.

Additionally, I completely altered my diet — I’ve long dabbled in low-carb/no-carb/ketogenic, but this time I jumped in no-holds barred. No sugar, I cut my coffee intake to one cup a day, no carbs/gluten, period. 2011 came quickly, and I kept it up. Yoga, diet — lather, rinse and repeat. I shed enough weight that people at PyCon 2011 didn’t recognize me. Good. Not good enough. Throughout 2011 I kept this up — dropping from an easy 280 lbs to 165 at my lowest. Later in the year I added weight lifting with coworkers at lunch — even later I started the couch to 5k program to start running (even doing it the “barefoot” way).

Now, as the year turns, I weigh a healthy 175 lbs — I’ve put on muscle mass, kept my flexibility, kept on my diet which has shifted into a more Paleo form than what it had been (mainly adding fruit back in, but still skipping carbs/gluten/sugar — I still mostly only eat meat and vegetables). I can now run for 30 minutes without feeling like death and hit 4.2 miles. My knee still bothers me sometimes, but I’ve dodged surgery. I can now look at my daughters and wife and hope that I’ll be around a lot longer than I would have been had I not done these things. I feel more alive than ever before.

Me, December 2011:

During 2011, I also switched to an all standing desk setup (yup, despite the knee):

• “Switching to a Standing Desk”
• “The standing desk experiment — 5 months in”

I’m happy to say that this continues — thanks to an excellent gift from my wife, I even have a nice standing setup at home now. It’s been over 7 months since I last sat down at work to work. Sure, I sit at lunch, and in the car — I’m not that weird, but I continue to reap the benefits I outlined in those posts.

I also started working on my mental health, and focus. Trying to learn how to meditate, working on minimizing distractions and building small improvements to my workflow. Focusing on being open to change and criticism. Focusing on things I had ignored for a long time.

You can’t go and just fix your physical self — you have to take care of the mental aspects as well. I’ve had to learn this over and over the hard way, and it is still a daily fight between what I was, and what I want to me. I have to focus on small changes and improvements constantly — otherwise it’s deadly simple to fall back on old ways.

I did a post some time ago — “On Family, Cranking and Changing” — I still read this once in awhile to remind myself where I need to go and what I need to accomplish. I can’t lose sight.

Now for the hard part.

Children

2011 also brought my family to the brink — and I mean that in the literal sense. There was a time where my wife and I would look at each other hopelessly, wondering what we would do and how we would pull through. In June, we had our second daughter Addison Joy. The pregnancy was really rough and my coworkers and boss supported me through the needed “disappearing”. My wife spent a lot of time in the hospital, and there were many times where we were worried that things wouldn’t work out.

Luckily, my wife — and Addison, pulled through. I don’t know how they did it, and I suspect we’ve burnt a lifetime of karma and luck in just a few months, but they both came through. Addison was born, and I once again new the joys and pains of having a new born daughter. Throughout all of this, our oldest daughter Abigail trooped on through — it was a lot to ask for a 3/4 year old, but she continually amazed me. To look at her face and see how much she worships and loves her mother — to see how she loves Addison — that’s to know something you’ll never see anywhere else.

Not everything was well — and we didn’t know it yet, but the worst storm was yet to come.

To quote my post — “Thank you — the impossibility of “It’s going to be OK””:

But, so, AJ was born — and at first, everything seemed to be fine. 10 fingers, 10 toes and pooping — that’s sort of what you hope for in a newborn. We took her home, she saw her pediatrician, and that was that.

Well, no. Around the time Addison was three weeks old (shortly before my first child’s birthday) my wife Dusty started noticing that Addison was behaving erratically/oddly — and if you have any experience with infants, you’d know how hard it is to actually determine “odd” behavior. Almost everything they do is odd, down to timing exactly the worst moment when to spit up on you (point of fact — it is after you’ve showered, and are walking out the door).

In this case, the odd behavior my wife noticed was actually a pattern — and that’s when you need to worry. You want consistency in certain areas, you want to see continual improvement, you want them to consistently eat, poop and sleep. However, a pattern of odd movements tipped my wife (who is a fantastic analyst) off that something was not quite right.

What my wife found was that Addison for periods of time anywhere from 1–2 minutes her eyes would slit and roll back and she would freeze up. The best way to describe it is it was almost as if she would just “check out” — as if someone hit a power switch.

It’s still hard for me to read that post — it’s difficult for me to communicate the emotions — the fear, the outright terror of not knowing what was wrong with our baby girl. More hospitals, more doctors. My new born daughter with a helmet of leads and electrodes coming off of her head. Sleeping in cots in hospital rooms. My wife eloquently wrote a series of posts:

• “Welcome AJ”
• “One of Many Hard Days”
• “The Diagnosis and moving forward”
• “Updates”
• “God, Are you there?”
• “I make her smile”

Something I say in that thank you post is something that will stick in my mind forever. When my friends and people I barely knew in the Python community heard and saw what we were going through as a family, the support we got was flooring. It still makes me tear up thinking of all the cards, well wishes and other things — a little toy for Abigail, Doug Napoleone coming over to help me out with something, everything that the Python community did for our family. It is, and was amazing. I can never thank all of you enough for what you did for us, and how you helped us pull through.

The number of emails I got from other parents in the community who suffered through things like this, the well wishes — I, I can’t even go into everything that happened. Words can not express it. All I can say is that many times, my wife and I found ourselves in tears, crying with one another because of some act or gift or email from someone in the community.

In October, I did a quick Google+ post, providing an update on how things had panned out — quoting that post:

Addison’s diagnosis — if you want to call it that — is Cerebral Palsy — Hypertonia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hypertonia). This means that she does have a disorder, but it’s not one treated with drugs — just physical therapy and frequent checkups. We have a nurse and a physical therapist who come weekly and check on her thanks to early intervention. She’s developing well — she’s eating baby food, smiling and generally being a normal baby. All we have to do is keep up with the therapy and in theory her brain will “auto correct” as time goes on. She’s 17lbs and counting at just about 5 months and just giving hints of crawling.

In addition to the hypertonia, she was diagnosed with non epileptic seizures — again, not something we can do much about other than to love her, keep up with checkups and wait.

So that’s where we are — we have a happy, cooing, laughing, happy baby and just have to keep a close eye on her and work through things that come up. It’s too early to tell if her problems will have long term consequences. The doctors all hope that she’s “error correct” around these things and she’ll be OK. But we won’t know until we see her development at 6 months, 9 months and 1 year — we still have that “threat” that something could happen — her brain could stop developing, or conditions could get worse.

But its hard to think about that — because I don’t see the problems — every day, I pick up and hold and play with a beautiful, cheerful baby who wants nothing more than to chew on my fingers (she’s teething) and laugh. I don’t think about the future much, because it’s unknowable, and we’ll cross that bridge when it comes. Sometimes it pops into my head — that worry, that doubt, and I push it to the side and think of what we’ve already gone through.

It’s now December — almost January. Addison has continued to thrive — the fear and the worry aren’t forgotten — we have regular visits from a physical therapist and nurse to continually check on her. She still has some issues we continue to work through, and we’ve got a series of appointments with neurology specialists, but its hard to think that anything is “wrong” with her at all.

She’s almost 20lbs (huge baby!) — she’s babbling, she’s gotten her first tooth (on christmas eve to boot) — she loves her walker and worships her sister. She laughs more than any baby I’ve ever seen, and that laugh is angelic. I don’t know what the future holds, and I don’t know how long our luck will hold out, but what I do know is that I have two beautiful daughters who have changed my life forever.

I have found friends where I did not expect, compatriots and support. I have found that my coworkers, community and friends are more amazing than I could have ever expected. And Addison thanks you:

Finally, Work

I love my job, what more is there to say? 2011 was a break out year for me personally — and a break out year for Nasuni — we’ve built something amazing, something that companies want. With any luck, we have begun to change how businesses will store their data and what they come to expect from an enterprise class product. I get to do what I love, with people that are awesome.

Of course, 2011 found me growing more into doing things I never really expected to be doing — I’ve continued a shift from the back end/glue and more into the front-end, spending most of my time working on user interfaces, beating my head against internet explorer. I’ve spent more time in JavaScript than I care to admit. Learning CSS, re-learning design, layout, thinking constantly about user experience, staring at color palettes for days.

And I — We — are far from done. I’ve mentally grown into a mindset that “UI” (user interface) doesn’t just stand for the graphic design of a site — and that UX (user experience) isn’t just about how things are laid out on a page. UI/UX has to be thought about from the part the user sees, feels and uses all the way down to the lowest level API of your system.

Good Design (notice the big D) means APIs matter. It means that everything from error messages, to documentation to customer support and care matter. You can’t ignore any of it. You can’t slap a CSS framework into place and think you’re done with “Design”. It means caring about the user completely, and without regard to your biases or skills.

Good Design also matters in communities — user experience, interfaces — thinking about others — of course, I’m getting ahead of myself and delving into the second post.

Wrapping this one up

On a personal level — 2011 was a year I doubt I’ll forget any time soon. It’s been a mixture of pain and pleasure and constant evolution and change. 2011 changed who I fundamentally am as a person, and I hope I’ll never be the same.

Again, thank you all — you know who you are.

And to my family: Dusty, Addison, and Abigail (who is so smart it scares me) — I love you.

Here is a working example (forms.py) — just so I don’t forget it:

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from django import forms
from django.contrib.auth.models import User
from django.contrib.auth.forms import UserCreationForm
 
class UserCreateForm(UserCreationForm):
    email = forms.EmailField(required=True)
 
    class Meta:
        model = User
        fields = ("username", "email", "password1", "password2")
 
    def save(self, commit=True):
        user = super(UserCreateForm, self).save(commit=False)
        user.email = self.cleaned_data["email"]
        if commit:
            user.save()
        return user

You have to modify the save method on the form to add the email to user object returned by the super call. You can use this to expose other fields on the User object as needed.

Recent posts and discussions around porting of existing libraries and frameworks to Python 3 have been pretty interesting. I think that there have been a lot of good points brought up in the discussion (See: Armin’s Post (and followup), Nick’s entry on Python 3 and Nick’s email to Python-Ideas).

On a personal level; I’ve felt frustrated that there’s not much that I can do myself — I do believe that 2.7 is the proper end of the road of Python 2, and I do think that Python 3 is the future of the language. Does that mean Python 3 is perfect? Oh hell no. Does it mean that we can do work to make Python 3 the “Python 3″ we all want and need?

Yes it does.

So; while there is nothing I can do directly other than continue to work on the site I’ve been slowly building — GetPython3.com with help from the community — there is an aspect I can help with from a Python Software Foundation / Grants level. That means money (well, not unlimited).

As some of you might know — the PSF has actually issued grants to developers who have applied to port important libraries to Python 3 — as I say on the GetPython3 page:

In short: yes — there’s a bevy of information, videos and blog posts out there that can help you on your way. Python 3 is the future of the Python language, and entities such as the Python Software Foundation strongly believe in supporting the porting effort.

For example, the Python Software Foundation has issued developer grants to port projects such as the email package, PyOpenSSL, and WebOb. It has also provided developer grants for other general Python development work, such as to Brett Cannon that allowed him to completely revamp the Python developer’s guide.

The Python Software Foundation is here for not just CPython, or python-core, or python-the-language. It is here for Python — the community, it’s efforts, its developers, designers and people.

Certain projects — most notably PyPy — have already started donation programs to help fund large-scale development efforts to Python 3. Others may soon follow.

Additionally to the grants-to-developers aspect — the PSF Sprints project has been issuing grants for Python sprints in general, which means you can apply / ask for a grant for a port-to-python3 workshop or sprint any time!

But; back to where I was going…

My offer to you, the community is this — I can not guarantee you will get a grant, or funding — but what I can do, and what is within my power as a fellow member and PSF Director is offer to help write, and review applications to the PSF Board of directors for grant applications.

That’s right — I will assist you in writing an application that will be submitted to the PSF Board for approval, for grants aimed at porting libraries or frameworks to Python 3; or doing specific documentation / core work for Python 3. I can help you write it; provide templates, discuss it with you (I may have some elves help me) and ultimately help you put it in front of the board for approval.

Obviously; the PSF does not have unlimited funds; nor can it spend funds irrationally. Python 3 is important however — critically so — and while we can not fund everything, we can do what we can. I am aiming at libraries/frameworks which are in widespread use (e.g. notable) and that other projects/libraries/frameworks depend on heavily (for example, see the Py3k poll).

Before getting started, you should read the basic PSF Grant guidelines and you should look through the information on http://getpython3.com/.

If you are interested in this; drop an email to jnoller@python.org — I don’t promise immediate up-to-the-second turn around — I’ve obviously got a lot on my plate right now, but I will do my best to help.

Memories are strange things. You don’t quite know where they come from — or why a particular one is more powerful than another. They pop up unbidden — some subconscious trigger, a smell, a sound, an event causes them to come to the forefront of your mind and take over your brain and emotions.

Memories, once ingrained, are impossible to rid yourself of, good or bad. You don’t get to choose which ones fault in, and you don’t get to choose which ones are the most powerful one attached to a trigger.

Sometimes, no matter how much you try, no matter how many new memories you try to make to replace, or subsume a given one — one memory will always stick. It can be good — or it can be bad. You don’t get to choose. When that memory is a bad one, it doesn’t matter how much you stack on top of it, no matter how much you try to forget — when it comes to the forefront, that is what you see, what you feel.

We don’t get to control it. All we can do is try to forge new ones and hope that they are more powerful, more pertinent and more filled with love and hope than everything that came before it, so that even if the memory that comes up is a bad one — a horrible one — there’s something warm, loving and caring to fall back on and hold on to when we lay awake at night staring at the ceiling trapped in throes of the past.

A story about a boy.

This is a story about a boy. It doesn’t matter who the boy is — and it doesn’t matter who he is now. It is about a boy and a memory, and this story is meant to get you to think about the people around you in your life, your community and your family, neighbors and friends.

This boy was young — perhaps five, perhaps six — who knows, the exact age is lost in the morass of time — it doesn’t matter. This boy lived with some people who were bad, very, very bad. They were the most vile of people. This boy lived with them as, at this age, you don’t get to pick who you live with. This boy, and these evil people lived together in a home filled with stink, filth and pain.

The boy was alone; the boy wasn’t afraid in the common sense of the word — after all to understand fear you have to experience something other than that to appreciate the emotion itself. Loneliness however, is something all humans innately understand without context or teaching. We are social creatures, we crave attention — good or bad — we crave to walk in the lights of others eyes and be noticed.

The boy was not noticed.

The time was before Christmas time. More than anything in the world, the boy loved an old TV show — Fraggle Rock. This was something that brought him happiness no matter how brief. He loved that show more than anything else in the world.

One day, the boy was someplace else, with a different evil person. He was sitting on a bare floor in a bare apartment that stank of cigarette smoke and old people. He was watching the television — a cold, but constant friend — watching his favorite show.

An advertisement came on. This advertisement offered something magical, something special. It was something so exciting that he had to call now to take advantage of the special offer. It was a thing tied to his friend, his joy — Fraggle Rock.

The boy had no money or wealth, and inside he knew that the evil people around him were loath to give up that which they had. The boy knew that he must have the thing he saw, and while he had nothing he knew how to acquire it.

He calmly got up off the floor, knowing that no one was around to notice what he was about to do. He opened the purse of one of the people who ignored him — he may have been alone, and might have only known fear, but he was smart. He knew that the thing on TV asked for a credit card, and he knew where to get one. He stole it from the purse, and picked up the telephone.

Some how, perversely, that boy knew where he lived. Maybe it was because he had had to walk himself to school so often, or had to be driven home by the police or a teacher from the school he sometimes attended.

He called the number he had memorized in a span of seconds. The person at the other end of the telephone, again, in a strange alignment of perversion and oddity, did not question the fact that a child was on the other end of the phone.

The boy managed to order the magical thing on TV. Using a stolen credit card in an apartment that stank of cigarettes and old people.
Before you think the boy had gotten away with it — he hadn’t. As he hung up the phone, one of the bad people came into the room and saw him with the phone and credit card in his hand.

Evil people do bad things to boy; the screen goes dark and the curtains go down. The boy knew that his brief glimpse of hope and joy in acquiring that thing from the TV was gone.

The boy went back to darkness.

Christmas Day

The boy did not know, or remember the thing from the TV he had gotten so severely punished for. He knew that it was Christmas time only because other children talked so eagerly about it. The house he lived in was barren, and filthy and undecorated except for a small pine tree in a corner that stood, undecorated.

There was no party, no family get together on Christmas eve. Yet still the boy lay in his bed charged with hope that somehow, somewhere, a gift might appear for him under that barren and sad tree the next day. He might not know — he was locked in his room again, but that hope stood out.

Not because he knew what it was, but because he knew what others had told him, he knew the emotions that others had about this “special” time.

The boy didn’t sleep well — not just because it was Christmas. He never slept well.

Christmas morning, let’s say at five o’clock in the morning, the boy was awake as he always was. He got up with trepidation and fear for waking the evil people with whom he lived. He tested the door knob — it was unlocked.

He opened the door and looked around — none of the evil people were around, there were someplace else. He was alone — and given that this was a state much preferable to the alternative, he was temporarily happy.

He walked to the barren tree, past the trash and cat waste scattered through the house and stood in front of it. At first, his eyes didn’t perceive the box underneath it. He didn’t see a stack of jauntily wrapped gifts, or stockings hung with care. The boy was filled with sadness.

There was, however, a bag — the type you might get nowadays from a supermarket for reuse. The boy’s eyes caught the logo on that bad.

Fraggle. Rock.

Stunned beyond comprehension, the boy walked over slowly, he recognized the logo, and in fact, he recognized the bag from the commercial long forgotten. It was the magical thing he had been so severely punished for. He looked around, ensuring he was alone, and he pulled the thing out of the bag.

It was a Fraggle Rock record player. That was all — and a single, small record that contained but one song. Shaking, he opened the record player, and plugged it into the wall. Gingerly, he placed the record on the player and through trial and error, figured out how to make it turn on and play.

The boy cried as the first notes of the one song began to play. So joyful was he in this singular moment, listening to the theme song for a TV show that all the loneliness and pain he knew was forgotten, replaced with a joy so tangible he could hold it close.

In that moment, the boy knew sadness as well, as that joy was so powerful he knew the stark contrasts in the emotions he had known. He forgot loneliness, caught up in a moment so emotional that nothing else mattered.

In that moment, the boy was happy. The house was filled with that song for hours until the people he lived with came home, and took it away. In those hours, that boy knew nothing but joy, happiness and the dark contrast of sadness.

Back to the beginning.

The boy is now a man, which man is irrelevant. What is relevant is that when the first chords of the first Christmas song begin to play after Thanksgiving — when the first Christmas ornament go up that boy is thrown back to that memory of that single Christmas day.

No memories since that day matter; none of them come up and filter into his consciousness other than that one. It takes over his psyche at random, as said before — you don’t get to choose how this works.

So, why?

Why am I sharing this story about a boy, or rambling about memories? Because, despite knowing that once ingrained a memory can not be forgotten, I feel that it is true that you can override memories with stronger ones with a more powerful emotion.

I feel that joy, hope and love are more powerful emotions than fear, loneliness and pain.

I share this boy’s story so that I can get you to think for a moment about the people around you. Friends, colleagues, family — the person on the street, on the bus, the people in your community and the person you only know through email, IRC or on Twitter.

I share this to get you to think about those who you don’t think about all that closely. The children who live as that boy did, or those children and families that have little or nothing during this supposed time of joy.

I’m not asking you to give up wealth, or toys, or food — those are all fine things, but they are simply tangental aspects of how a memory might be created. I’m asking you to think about all of these people, even those whom you disagree with or hate, or those you never think about at all, and I ask you to take a moment to reach out to them in some way.

Perhaps a toy, a book, a warm coat or meal for those that you do not know well — something that can give them the same joy that that boy felt when that song played. Maybe an email to someone you haven’t heard from in a while, or warm words to someone who you normally spar with.

Thousands of people trudge through the holidays, no matter their faith, race or creed — their choice of forums, programming language, career or school depressed and alone during this time. They’re trapped by memories that should have been replaced long, long ago. Maybe they never will be replaced, but maybe they can be supplemented and temporarily displaced.

I am asking you to reach out in any way that you can to help them make new memories, ones of joy, love and caring — even if it is over the internet, or as fleeting as being polite to them and thinking of them when you bump into them on the street or in the mall.

Reach out in all the ways you can, despite times of strife and division and economic depression. Help everyone you can be filled with a memory of joy, love and caring, give them that moment the boy had even if bittersweet. Show them your grace, humility, kindness and caring.

I still cry when I hear Fraggle Rock.

Whether you’re a first-timer or an experienced veteran, PyCon is depends on you, the community, coming together to build the best conference schedule possible — PyCon is first and foremost about the community, driven by volunteers both on an organizational level, and by speakers.

Our call for proposals lays out the details it takes to be included in the lineup for the conference in Santa Clara, CA on March 7–15, 2012. I should note that this year we have gone away from consistent groups of invited speakers — meaning, all talks, regardless of who submits them are not guaranteed a speaking slot. All talks are judged and reviewed on the merits of the talk and the speakers themselves.

If you’re unsure of what to write about, our recent survey yielded a large list of potential talk topics, and plenty of ideas for tutorials. We’ve also come up with general tips on proposal writing to ensure everyone has the most complete proposal when it comes time for review. As always, the program committee wants to put together an incredible conference, so they’ll be working with submitters to fine tune proposal details and help you produce the best submissions. Even if you are still incubating a talk idea: submit the proposal now in rough form and we can assist you in fleshing out and refining the proposal during the review process.

We’ve had plenty of great news to share since we first announced the call for proposals. Paul Graham of Y Combinator was recently announced as a keynote speaker, making his return after a 2003 keynote. David Beazley, famous for his mind-blowing talks on CPython’s Global Interpreter Lock, was added to the plenary talk series.

Sponsors can now list their job openings on the “Job Fair” section of the PyCon site as we previously announced — providing an excellent resource for job seekers, and providers.

We’re hard at work to bring you the best conference yet, so stay tuned to PyCon news at the PyCon blog and on Twitter at https://twitter.com/#!/pycon.

We recently eclipsed last year’s sponsorship count of 40 and are currently at a record 54 organizations supporting PyCon. If you or your organization are interested in sponsoring PyCon, we’d love to hear from you, so check out our sponsorship page.

And as always — quick thanks to all of our awesome PyCon 2012 Sponsors:

• Diamond Level: Google and Dropbox.
• Platinum Level: New Relic, SurveyMonkey, Microsoft, Eventbrite, Nasuni and Gondor.io
• Gold Level: Walt Disney Animation Studios, CCP Games, Linode, Enthought, Canonical, Dotcloud, Loggly, Revsys, ZeOmega, Bitly,ActiveState, JetBrains, Caktus, Disqus, Spotify, Snoball, Evite, PlaidCloud and Mozilla
• Silver Level: Imaginary Landscape, WiserTogether, Net-ng, Olark, AG Interactive, Bitbucket, Open Bastion, 10Gen, gocept, Lex Machina,fwix, github, toast driven, Aarki, Threadless, Cox Media, myYearBook, Accense Technology, Wingware, FreshBooks, and BigDoor
• Lanyard: Dreamhost
• Sprints: Reddit
• FLOSS: OSU/OSL, OpenHatch

Thank you — and as always, feel free to reach out to the team or any of the staff with any questions you might have.

• The PyCon Organizers — http://us.pycon.org/2012
• Jesse Noller — Chairman — jnoller@python.org
• Brian Curtin — Publicity Coordinator — brian@python.org

I wanted to take a moment to explain what makes sponsorship good for the community, and a sound investment for sponsors new and old, prospective and future.

This year, as chair, I’ve taken it upon myself to push and manage PyCon sponsorship (corporate, non profit, media, etc) for a variety of reasons. First, as someone who has been a sponsor in the past (and present) and as someone who spends a lot of time “selling” the Python Software Foundation, and the community to others — I feel very closely tied to PyCon and sponsorship.

Not to mention — corporate sponsorship is what allows us to keep this probably one of the least expensive international technical conferences you could possibly attend this upcoming year. Without sponsorship — and the array of sponsors we have right now for PyCon 2012, the conference could simply not happen at the size it has reached, or have a robust financial aid program, keep tickets and tutorials cheap, etc. We have, once again intentionally capped attendance at a level to allow for this, and to help keep PyCon’s community feel and closeness.

Running a conference is, frankly, a dangerous game. As I noted in my blog post several months ago discussing some of the financial workings of PyCon and its financial philosophy. It is very easy to lose a lot of money, very quickly. PyCon is held / financed / backed by the Python Software Foundation. This means lack of sponsorship, low attendance, etc could — with a simple misstep — bankrupt the foundation. Sponsorship helps shore up the gamble you make signing contracts on catering, room bookings, rental of the space where the conference is held, audio/video costs, etc. Although, if you make a big enough mistake — nothing will prevent things from going south. This means careful planning, budgeting and negotiation.

Also, while PyCon has always been, and will continue to be a community focused and therefore, low cost and inclusive conference, not really focused on profiting from attendees, any revenue that comes out of PyCon (profit, if you will) goes directly to the Python Software Foundation. This money, in turn, is used to improve infrastructure of Python resources, provide developer grants for programming work, provide grants to conferences all over the world and many other community projects.

In the last few months alone the PSF has issued grants to PyTexas, EuroPython, Python Ireland, PyCon India, and many, many others. We have issued grants for porting modules to Python 3, service such as Read The Docs, etc. Any revenue/profit is flipped back into funding PyCon, and the community as a whole.

PyCon provides a very tangible entity for corporate sponsors — it’s an easier “sell” than direct PSF sponsorship, and therefore is a fundamentally better conduit for funds into the PSF.

That’s all fine you say: those are great things for the community, and conference — but why would a company want to sponsor PyCon? Sponsors receive tangible benefits such as recruiting at the conference, advertising and marketing, getting community involvement known (call it community karma), etc. Sponsorship isn’t just a matter of asking a company to fund the conference because “it’s good for the community” — it’s a matter of showing them that not only is it good for the community — it’s good for their goals and needs.

PyCon is an excellent recruitment tool.

If you’re looking for Python programmers, a venue filled with 1500 Python hackers of all types — from web developers, to designers, to distributed systems engineers and operations people is an excellent place for you and your company to find “that special someone”. I know a lot of Python hackers out there who have been hired by companies they “met” at PyCon. I also know a lot of speakers and tutorial teachers who have received jobs or job offers after speaking/teaching at PyCon.

Just as PyCon is an excellent venue for companies looking to hire, robust sponsorship allows people at the conference know what companies out there could be hiring Python hackers. Companies like Walt Disney Animation Studios, Google, Dropbox, and others as well as companies that aren’t well known for being Python shops. It’s a great venue for job seekers to find employers.

The Jobs Fair page we added this year for sponsors, and those looking for jobs is a logical extension of this. Anything we can do to connect people and companies is great.

PyCon is an excellent marketing tool.

If you are looking to sell something — an editor, hosting, a service, etc — PyCon’s 1500 attendee pool provides an amazing cross section of people. Not just hard core developers — entrepreneurs and startup founders, IT business people and leaders. Python is a language that as time goes by — I am less and less surprised where it pops up — and more surprised when it isn’t being used somewhere within a company.

It is literally everywhere — a frequently unsung hero for many companies. Sometimes, companies use it without even knowing it.

Python — and it’s community — and therefore PyCon is amazingly diverse. This means when you sponsor PyCon, you are advertising to an amazingly diverse group of people. Skill sets from all walks of technology — and a surprising number of people to whom Python is a tool they use prolifically to get some other job done (like say, video rendering or controlling robots). PyCon’s attendees reflect the stunning makeup of it’s community. You can’t go wrong getting your companies names on attendee’s lips.

PyCon is a great way to raise visibility.

This is as much a sub-point of my previous note on marketing as anything else but it deserves some attention. If you’re a company who is trying to get the word out, trying to spread the news about your new product or service, people notice PyCon sponsors. Not only are you listed on the website, you get signs, booths and entries in the program guide at the conference. It can be en excellent tool for buzz and discussion about and launching a new product or service.

Even if you’re not selling something — and you just want to get the word out about your company’s open source efforts, opinion and ideas and use of Python — PyCon is a fantastic platform to do so. It can literally be a platform you use to launch you name and brand into the community’s shared mind.

PyCon sponsorship breeds good will.

I wish I had studies to show it, but people within the community and at the conference itself see companies sponsoring PyCon and understand that while those companies might be selling, marketing or recruiting — are still doing the community a huge favor by acting as sponsors. As I said before — the community benefits are many, just as the sponsor benefits are. I can not stress this point enough — the companies that help PyCon via sponsorship or attendance do it for many reasons — some of them financial, but the social aspects are something all of our sponsor from the past can attest to. Python is an open source language, with a strong open source ethos running through its community — and seeing companies give back both through code and financially means a lot to everyone in the community — even other sponsors.

PyCon sponsors help set an example for the community in terms of involvement and support.

PyCon sponsorship is a good, simple and cost-effective investment.

I wish all conference had sponsorship packages as cheap and as robust as the ones PyCon has outlined in it’s prospectus. Heck — a good recruiter to find talent can cost a company $30,000 or more alone — by comparison, the sponsorship levels and prices PyCon has are fantastic deals (especially when you factor in that companies under 25 people can get a 50% off discount on two of those levels). For less than a price of a good computer and monitor — you can be a Silver sponsor. For less than the price if you include the desk and furniture or software licenses? A Gold sponsor. For less than the price of a good recruiter, or Google Ad campaign? You can be a Platinum or Diamond sponsor and reach out to not just PyCon attendees but to the entire Python community.

PyCon is a professional event.

I swell with pride standing in the shoes of the conference chairs that have come before me. PyCon, while focused on the community, the language, learning, teaching, being a ton of fun for all of its attendees, and excellent location to hack and network is one of the most friendly-yet-professional conferences I have ever had the privilege to attend.

PyCon is backed by the Python Software Foundation — but it is run by volunteers — even I, as chair, am not paid. For all of us involved, it’s a labor of love. It is a way for us to give back to the community, ecosystem and companies and sponsors attending or sponsoring. And while it may be volunteer based — it’s 100% professional. From the website, to the program guide, from talk selection and booth assignment — everything is treated with sincerity, respect and trust.

Sponsors can look at PyCon not just as a good investment, or platform — but as a safe one — and if they can not, I have failed as chair of the conference. The same applies to every single attendee.

But too much of a good thing?

As with all things, there is a flip side to this. Sponsorship is great for sponsors, and the community — but PyCon is fundamentally community focused, and hence we must walk a line between having robust sponsorship packages, and going the “full sponsorship monty” so to speak. This means that to this day, I hold firm on the policy that sponsorship does not guarantee or provide tutorial or speaking slots to any sponsor.

At PyCon, we are all equals, especially when it comes to talks. Joe developer from nowhere, Antarctica can submit a talk, tutorial or poster session as can Bob the developer from a Diamond sponsor and they have equal chances of being accepted. If the talk is good, if the speaker is known to be a good speaker, if the content and subject are compelling, a proposal will be accepted on its merits (but even then we can not accept all the deserving ones).

Other conferences guarantee speaking slots for sponsors — I feel this runs counter to the PyCon ethos and community philosophy. Not only are we open in our source, we treat each other as equals and with respect. Ours is the meritocracy of ideas and work — and this point can not get lost or forgotten in our — my — work on our sponsors’ behalf to increase the value and return on investment they see.

We also try to keep the advertising and visibility at the conference tasteful — limiting banner sizes and locations, focusing on the vendor area experience while also giving sponsors free admissions to the entire conference so they too can partake in the learning, hacking and networking. We find this to be a good balance between the needs of the attendees and the needs and desires of the sponsors.

Trust me, if I thought walking around in a NASCAR-like track suit covered in logos would help our sponsors, I just might — ask the other staff! But that’s just me.

In closing — I want to encourage you and companies you know or work for, to take part in PyCon and get involved. Even if you can not, or do not want to be sponsors, I encourage you to submit proposals, lightning talks when the conference comes, attend the sprints, and recruit on the “down-low” by just talking and hacking with everyone.

I encourage you, and will work with you day and night to join us as sponsors — but I value your involvement in the community, and the conference more. Even by just attending, you are enriching us all. If you have suggestions on how to make sponsorship better for sponsors — or general comments or concerns, feel free to email me.

Giving thanks

Finally, I’d like to thank all of our current sponsors — and an a yet-to-be-named mystery sponsor:

• Diamond Level: Google and Dropbox.
• Platinum Level: New Relic, SurveyMonkey, Microsoft, Eventbrite, Nasuni and Gondor.io
• Gold Level: Walt Disney Animation Studios, CCP Games, Linode, Enthought, Canonical, Dotcloud, Loggly, Revsys, ZeOmega, Bitly, ActiveState, JetBrains, Caktus, Disqus, Spotify, Snoball, Evite, and PlaidCloud
• Silver Level: Imaginary Landscape, WiserTogether, Net-ng, Olark, AG Interactive, Bitbucket, Open Bastion, 10Gen, gocept, Lex Machina, fwix, github, toast driven, Aarki, Threadless, Cox Media, myYearBook, Accense Technology, Wingware, FreshBooks, and BigDoor
• Lanyard: Dreamhost
• Sprints: Reddit
• FLOSS: OSU/OSL, OpenHatch

And of course, if you want more information on sponsorship — visit the PyCon 2012 Sponsorship page.

Studies and articles:

• Sitting time and mortality from all causes, cardiovascular disease, and cancer.
• Leisure Time Spent Sitting in Relation to Total Mortality in a Prospective Cohort of US Adults
• Physiologists And Microbiologists Find Link Between Sitting And Poor Health
• Can’t Stand to Sit Too Long? There’s a Desk for That
• “Why your desk job is killing you slowly” — Men’s Health (HN Link)
• “Your Office Chair is Killing you” — Businessweek (HN Link)
• “Sitting all Day: Worse for you than you might think” — NPR (HN Link)

I figured since I’m rapidly approaching 6 months into the “experiment” — I should post a followup along with my current thoughts as well as even more information on how to setup your own rig, new studies, and other articles that have come up.

My original setup was a bit of a rig: I stole (borrowed) a table from one of the kitchens in our building and hacked together something that while serviceable, had a few obvious problems — the key one being it was wobbly (I’m not a light typist). Wobbly, while annoying, was still tolerable and preferable to the back pain, lethargy and other things that drove me to try it out in the first place. Other problems included not being at the optimal arm-height (it was close) and well — lack of desk space.

Several months ago, I was lucky enough to have my employer (Nasuni) notice my experiment and we made a deal — if I stuck to the rig for a month, and still wanted to stand, they would get me an official standing desk. I exceeded the goal a bit — not only did I stand at the setup for a month — I completely ditched sitting the first week. I haven’t sat in a chair in my cube since I started standing months ago. So work pitched in and got me a GeekDesk 2.0 — victory!

Here’s the “perfect” setup:

The transition itself from sitting to standing was pretty easy for me — given the number of changes I’ve made in the past year in terms of weight loss, exercise, etc at this point I’m probably in the best physical condition I have been in my entire life. So ultimately I didn’t have many of the transition issues people sometimes cite (foot / leg pain, tiredness, etc) with moving to a standing desk.

The minor issues I had mainly revolved around:

• Feet: I had to find a non-bulky, well made pair of shoes. In my case, I started wearing New Balance Minimus Trail style “minimalist” shoes — they’re form fitting (meaning no socks) and have almost no sole to them. Additionally, I had already picked up a good comfort mat to stand on — that way I had something more giving than the carpet covered concrete.
• Getting things at the right height: I chose the Geekdesk because it’s got hydraulic legs that allow you to set a perfect height — one where your elbows are at a 90 degree angle when your hands are resting on the keyboard, or slightly lower than that. This, plus my standard Microsoft Ergo keyboard means my typing posture is probably the best that it’s ever been. Additionally, while I have a height adjustable monitor — I used an additional monitor stand to get my monitor position at roughly eye level (I prefer the horizontal center of the monitor to be slightly below eye level — use what’s comfortable). This way I’m not looking down/tilting my head an extreme amount, in most cases I’m only looking slightly down.
• Switching positions: When we hack/get involved in something we all have a tendency to hold dead still except for our hands — instinctually even though I was standing, I would sometimes find myself standing rigid, feet shoulder width apart with my back straight. While fundamentally not bad this can just cause your body to get tired/sore/whatever. I had to start letting my more rational brain allow my body to move, force yourself to gently shift your position. In my case I’ve even found myself dancing to music slightly, even when deep in coding or writing because my body now knows it can move freely.
  • I’ve actually found myself standing with one leg bent and my foot against the inside of the opposite knee. This means standing on one foot — I didn’t notice it until someone asked me if I was doing yoga in my cube. Between this and the dancing at my desk, I think the weird-o-meter is maxed out.
• Allowing myself a break: I set boundaries for myself — I’m no superhuman and genetic aberration. My body needs rest. My agreement with myself was this — if I stand during work sessions, I will sit during lunch and take an afternoon break of 15 minutes and sit, have a snack, something. This way I give my body a chance to relax.

Nothing groundbreaking, really. Allow yourself to move/change positions (my default is back straight, feet shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent) — get something nice to stand on / some good shoes and set expectations. Revolutionary science and advice, I know.

After just a few weeks I noticed a change — I had more energy, I felt more active and alive, I breathed better (not hunched), I was actually calmer, more reflective and able to focus when needed. My body felt great — my legs felt stronger, my back a thousand times better, my neck better, etc. I’ve had all the upsides and few downsides. I lost more weight/gained more muscle in my legs and back — good times!

I will say that people get confused — people walking by, when they see a programmer/hacker hunched over a keyboard in a chair, deep in thought see a giant “do not disturb” sign. When you’re standing, hacking away deep in thought people tend to have the instinct that you’re more approachable. And they like to pop in for a quick chat. Nothing bad in and of itself — a break never hurt anyone. But coworkers who don’t notice your earbuds in your ears might get confused when they have an entire conversation with someone who is completely checked out, standing there.

No, I’m not being rude. While I do do yoga, I have not quite reached the level of being able to sense a disturbance in the force.

Approachability works both ways though: I find myself more approachable/less hostile to people dropping in to talk. I’m more relaxed, less aggressive and ultimately more at ease when someone interrupts me, or catches me in between things to talk. I enjoy white boarding with them more, I don’t spin around in my chair and snarl at them because I was elbow deep in an epic yak shaving. I just take a breath, turn around and start talking.

I feel more refreshed; and switching “into work” and “out of work” (meaning, in and out of a task) is easier/more approachable. My body feels better — so much better that sitting actually feels awkward to me. Ask my wife, any time I work at home I whine because I end up sitting. Sitting has become something I do when I want to relax, or because I have to — not something I do automatically. Not to mention, you simply burn more calories standing than sitting still. It will help you pay down that debt you had for lunch!

Don’t get me wrong — I like kicking up my legs with my laptop in my lap, and beating away on my keyboard. It’s just those times are different now — almost more special and valuable to me rather than the default-of-lethargy that I had before sitting all the time. I can say sitting here on a plane typing this may quickly drive me insane however.

My two second review of the Geekdesk? It’s awesome — it’s the perfect height, and it can carry enough weight my four year old can ride it like something at a carnival. I’ve stacked my mac pro/books/etc on it and the hydraulic legs don’t even flinch. I can set it at any height, or drop it down to sit (although I never have). It’s well build, sturdy, and had a little cable runner thing attached to the bottom of the desk where I can squirrel cables away (but as you can see in the picture — I’m much to lazy for that). The desk space is enough for me to have my notebook to one side and my laptop to the other and keyboard on the center with room to spare. It really is great.

That said — is the Geekdesk for everyone? Yes!

Is it prohibitively expensive, hence why I don’t have one at home right now? Also yes!

Most people (myself included) can’t find it in our budgets to finance something like this — heck, it’s the same thing with good chairs — they run serious cash. Most people will look to put together a more economical solution. In most cases, you can avoid building something yourself if you live anywhere close to an Ikea — the cheapest option I’ve found for something that comes close to a basic set of specs:

• Decent amount of desk space
• Doesn’t look like crap
• Can have the main work area set to the optimal height

Is the Ikea Fredrik desk — this used to be called the “Galant” desk, and its setup allows you to put together a standing rig approaching a rational price for your home. It’s also ok for proposing to bosses who would beat you with a rolled up newspaper if you suggested spending 800$ on an ergonomic desk (although — why are you working for someone like that, Stockholm Syndrome?).

The Fredrick is the best option I’ve found that’s “off the shelf” — there are plenty of plans out there that describe how to build one — and I applaud those who have the wood working skills needed. Here are some of the various plans and pre built desks floating around out there that I cite when asked:

• Pre Built
  • Anthro Adjustables
  • The GeekDesk
  • Table Legs MD
  • Ergo Depot
  • AdjustTables
• DIY Solutions
  • Build an Adjustable standing desk with a pipe and a eke clamp
  • The 5 second standing desk
  • Hacking together a standing Ikea desk
  • Another Ikea Solution
  • DIY Standing Desk
  • Standing Desk for 20$
  • Of course, the google image search will give you a billion ideas
  • Holy Moly Electric plans

Otherwise, if you’re stuck in a cube or office where you can’t chuck the existing decor for something more civilized (meaning, it’s bolted to the walls or the cube farm would collapse like a hobo village built out of cardboard boxes if you removed your L shaped cube desk) here’s a set of the best “hacks”  or attachments I’ve seen (feel free to share your own:

• Ergotron Workfit — a review is here
• Sit-Stand additions for cubicles
• Trying the Standing desk
• Standing Desk in a cubicle
• Tell me about your standing desk — paleohacks
• Standing Desk: Cubicle edition
• DIY Standing Desk Cubicle

Now — remember, even if your stuck in a cube in most cases, the height of the main desk area can be changed/raised — you just need an office manager willing to listen. Most desks in cubes can easily be moved lower, or higher depending on needs. Sometimes you may have to get rid of your shelves — but what do you put there other than pretzels and books you don’t read? Stability, stability, stability!

For the home? I’d start trolling craigslist for podiums or lecterns if you aren’t good with tools or you lack an Ikea. Or, if you can forgo aesthetics you can go the home-depot-cinderblock route. This is the easiest if you just want to experiment. Just measure what height your current desk is, then measure the height from your bent-90-degrees and standing on a comfortable mat elbows to the floor. Subtract the height of your current desk and either go to Lowes or Home Depot and buy cinderblocks and a piece of nice, sanded and pre-finished or stained hardwood to stack on top of your current desk to raise your keyboard, mouse and monitor to the needed heights, or just buy the same to place under your desk legs to move it up.

In the latter case, if you have a desk with a keyboard tray, this works in your favor as you can get the keyboard at the 90 degree angle and give your monitor a quick boost. Cinderblocks or bricks, while not looking cool, are obviously sturdy and stable. Of course, if you have a glass-topped desk at home (as I do) I would recommend against putting it on top.

Me at my setup recently:

Fundamentally, it’s just a matter of getting your hands and eyes at the right heights while standing. Everything else is aesthetics and noise. Switching has helped me immensely and for the better. Will I never be a “a sitter” again? Never say never. I will say that it’s definitely not for everyone, and while I might sound like a card carrying cultist — even I realize it’s a tough thing to swallow for most hackers.

As for the now notorious study that came out recently that stated that you would suddenly develop varicose veins and die if you stood all day? The data the researchers cited disagrees with them (take a look at the hacker news thread). While I don’t disagree with the fundamental message: move regularly, stupid — I don’t agree with the breathless results and reporting and age-old rehashing of “perfect keyboard angle and age old ergonomics”. No one listens to ergonomics experts anyway, and most companies put +ignore on basic ergonomics. Standing while you work is a perfectly good way to improve yourself in a variety of ways, not just improving how long you can sit staring at a screen all day.

Try standing — seriously. It may not be for you, but you might be surprised. I didn’t think I’d be doing yoga, didn’t think I’d be standing at a desk, didn’t think I’d be a dad, eating Paleo/Keto and listening to heavy metal. Sometimes a change or trying something out that seems crazy or daunting is just what you need.

Other good standing desk reads:

• My Standing Desk Experiment (zenhabits)
• Standing at work: Mark’s Daily Apple
• Why and How I Switched to a Standing Desk
• This podcast (Build and Analyze Episode 21) has a good bit on standing desks vs. exercise balls
• “How Do you avoid sitting down all day” — Lifehacker
• “Standing Desk Tips” — Boing Boing
• “Sitting down makes you fat” — Treehugger
• Standing Desk — 1 year later