Representation and visibility

tl;dr: We need more representation in tech, in part because career opportunities come from kicking ass where people can see you, and that comes from knowing that you belong, and that knowing comes from seeing people like you already belonging.

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Representation is a complex topic. Being a straight, white, cisgender, American man, I don’t have a lot of personal experiences with the lack of representation. But I do have one, and it involves swords.

Back in 2004 a friend of mine sent me a copy of the first edition of The Swordsman’s Companion by Guy Windsor. At this  point I had no idea that people were recreating medieval martial arts and fighting with steel weapons[1], so I read through the book and eventually sold it at a yard sale. I was interesting, and I loved the idea of being able to do what the people in the book were doing, but deep inside I knew that people like me didn’t actually do things like that. I was wrong, of course, but at the time the totality of my life experience told me I was right, and I simply didn’t question this knowledge.[2] Ten years passed before this opportunity presented itself again – ten years in which I could have been studying, practicing, competing, improving.

Now take this almost-trivial example and apply it to your career. What if you had never seen someone like yourself in a job role? How would you know that this was something that you could do, that this was a path that was open for you to travel?

When I look back on my career in IT, I can see tipping points – places where everything changed, and my life was forever improved. All but one of them (we’ll come back to this one) happened because someone saw me kicking ass and said “I want you to come kick ass with me.”

  • In 1996 when Dave saw me excelling as an applications trainer and offered me the opportunity to become a technical trainer and MCT.
  • In 1997 when Jeff saw me teaching Windows NT networking and offered me a job with a much higher salary and responsibilities that included consulting and application development.
  • In 2003 when Carolyn offered me a full-time contract as I was leaving my then-collapsing employer and starting my own consultancy, and when I simply didn’t know how I would pay my mortgage in six months, or pay the hospital bills for my impending second child.
  • In 2005 when Corey saw me teaching a beta SQL Server 2005 course, and said “you need to come work at TechEd this year.”
  • In 2007 when I quoted Ted almost double my then-standard daily rate to get him to quit nagging me about working for him, and he instantly agreed and asked how soon I could start.
  • In 2008 when Ken and Dave told Shakil that I was the only person who could do the job he needed done, and he ended up offering me my first job at Microsoft.
  • In 2011 when Matt learned I was looking for a new role and said “we have an open PM position on the SSIS team – let me introduce you to the hiring manager so you can see if you want to apply.”
  • In 2017 when Kasper kept subtly mentioning how much he loved the team he was on, until I finally figured out he wanted me to join it.

This is my story, and I’m including names both to say “thank you” and to make it real – these are the people who enabled me to be who I am today, where I am today, doing what I love so much today. I’ve heard variations on this story from many of my colleagues and peers, but this one is mine.

Please don’t get me wrong – I don’t believe anyone was giving me any handouts. At every step along the way I was doing the work – I was working hard, pushing, trying, struggling to kick as much ass as I possibly could. I was really good, because I had studied and practiced and put in the long hours to learn and improve – but without these people seeing and recognizing my hard work, the opportunities simply would not have existed for me. At any of these tipping points, if I hadn’t been where these people could see me, the moment would have passed, and the opportunity would have been lost. Each opportunity was dependent on the opportunities that came before it – each one depended on my being where I was, being visible and being seen.

This brings me back to that very first tipping point. In 1996 I saw a classified ad[3] for a job teaching people how to use Microsoft Windows and Office, and I applied for it.

And this brings us back to representation.

I applied for that first job because I could see myself in the role – I knew that I could do it. I had no difficulty picturing my 20-something Christian white male self in that role, and neither did the folks doing the hiring.[4]

But what if I was female, or Black, or transgender? What if I looked at an industry that was overwhelmingly male and overwhelmingly white and overwhelmingly cis, and knew that I didn’t belong, because there was no one like me doing things like that? Would I have opened that very first door, on which every later door depended?

I can’t answer that, but looking at the still-white and still-male faces around me every day in tech, I have every reason to believe that many candidates would see this lack of representation and infer from it a lack of opportunity – and never take that first step. And for those who do take the first steps I only need to look around to see the barriers that the tech industry put in place for women and minorities, letting them know every day that they’re not welcome.

Back in July I shared a post that referenced an amazing webcast by UX Designer Jasmine Orange on “Designing for the Ten Percent.” In that post the link was buried in a footnote, so I want to call it out here explicitly – if you made it this far into my post, you really want to watch this webcast. Jasmine’s premise[5] is that by designing for underrepresented users/communities/audiences/people you end up making better products for everyone.

I believe the same is true of tech in general – by building organizations, teams, and cultures that are welcoming to people who have been traditionally excluded, we build organizations, teams, and cultures that are better and more welcoming for people who have never been excluded. Diverse teams are stronger, more resilient, more agile, and more productive. Diverse cultures thrive and grow where monocultures collapse and die.

Why do I care? Does any of this even affect me directly?

Yes, it does.

On one hand, being part of a diverse team means that I will be more likely to be part of a successful team, with the financial rewards that come with success. On the other hand, I feel more welcome and more at home as part of a diverse team.

Still, it’s not about me, is it?

If you’re considering a role in tech and you’re not sure if you should apply for a job, do it. Even if you don’t feel like you’re a perfect fit, or don’t believe you meet every single requirement in the job posting. The white guys are going to apply because they know they below. You belong too, even if you don’t know it yet.

If you’re coming into tech from an underrepresented minority, you not only belong, you’re vitally needed. You bring something that no one else can bring – your background, your experiences, your perspectives – all the lessons you learned the hard way that an all-male, all-white team might pay an expensive consultant to tell them about after they’ve failed enough times.

Not every employer will recognize this value, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there, or that it’s not real. Some employers will judge every candidate against the “tech bro ideal” and will try to make every hire fit into this mold.

If you’re an employer, don’t be this guy. If you’re an employer, recognize the strategic value of having a diverse team. And recognize that this diverse team won’t happen on its own. Support organizations like Black Girls Code, because this is where your hiring pipeline will come from. Value the diverse perspectives that are already represented on your team, and promote them. Give authority and power to people who will hire diverse candidates. Give authority and power to people who look like the people you’re trying to recruit.

And if you’re working in tech today, please be be the person who notices. When you see someone kicking ass – doing an amazing job and demonstrating talent and potential to do more – be the person who says something. Even if you can’t see yourself in that person. Even if they don’t look like you and the rest of your team.

Representation is important, because it helps more people know that they can open that first door. Visibility is important, because it provides the opportunity for change and growth – visibility is what opens the second door, and the third, and….

Ok…

I started off writing a completely different post, but this is the one that wanted to come out today. At some point in the next few weeks[6] I’ll follow up with a post on community and how community is a key technique for increasing your visibility, but this post has gotten long enough, and then some.

Thanks for sticking with me – I’d love to hear what you think.


[1] I learned in 2014 when I first saw this video and fell in love.

[2] Underlying this false knowledge was likely the experience of growing up rural and poor, and not having a lot of opportunities as a child, or many experiences as an adult. It wasn’t until 2005 when I first travelled to Europe for a Manowar concert that my mindset started to change, but that’s probably not relevant to this post.

[3] Classified ads are what we called Craigslist before it was LinkedIn. Something like that.

[4] At this point I feel compelled to mention my friend Kathy, who actually got the job I applied for. I didn’t get the job, so I ended up taking a job as a bank teller. When the training center had another opening a few weeks later they called me back to ask if I was still available, and I said yes. True story. Hi Kathy!

[5] More accurately, this is my interpretation of Jasmine’s premise.

[6] LOL @ me, and LOL @ you if you haven’t learned by now not to trust any predictions of future output on my part. We should both know better by now.

If you cannot change, you cannot grow

Back in 2013 I presented for the very first time at the MVP Global Summit. I was terrified.

At this point I had been working for Microsoft for five years. I’d been an MVP before joining Microsoft as an employee and I had been a regular public speaker for many years – but this presentation felt different. MVPs are some of the most technical, most vocal, and most skilled people I know, and as a general rule they are talented presenters and communicators. I was very nervous, and I wanted to break the ice, both to help myself relax and to set an open and conversational tone for the session.

So I started my presentation like this:

2020-07-01-15-36-56-716--POWERPNT

A warning before we proceed: This post is likely to have more coarse language than I usually use. If you’re offended by swearing you may want to consider skipping this one, but I hope you’ll read on. I’m writing the warning before I write any swears, so maybe I’ll find another approach by the time I get there.

As the initial icebreaker I used the cover of Madonna’s 1984 album “Like a Virgin.” This was my first MVP Summit presentation, and I wanted to remind everyone that even though I might be a familiar face, this was my first time… or close enough.

The next slide represented the transition from the intro into the technical content of the session. I wanted to emphasize how we were talking about internal Microsoft processes and planning[1], and that the session would share these details that are typically not shared with anyone not on the product team… so I used the title “opening the kimono[2]” and as a family-safe but slightly risqué visual joke I used a “no image found” placeholder for the slide body.

The session went better than I could have hoped. People laughed where I wanted them to laugh, and shared deep technical feedback and constructive criticism were I wanted them to share deep technical feedback and constructive criticism. I was very happy.

Until later in the day, when someone came up to me to let me know that there were complaints. That someone had been offended, that someone hadn’t liked my choice of slides and sexually charged metaphors and images.

I was shocked.

The MVP who was reporting the news let me know that he wasn’t at all offended, and that the complaint came from someone who was always complaining anyway. “You know who,” he said to me, knowingly. I didn’t know who, and I never tried to find out who[3].

Instead, I thought about how my actions had a negative impact on someone in a way I didn’t plan, intend, or desire, but which was real nonetheless. That process was painful, and even now – almost seven years later – it is still uncomfortable to write about. I’m worried that someone might comment “you should have known better, you were an adult and 2013 wasn’t 1984” because criticism is difficult, and maybe they were right. Maybe I should have known better, but I didn’t, and because I didn’t I caused problems for someone who didn’t need me causing problems for her.

And I didn’t do it again. I messed up, I learned about my error, and I did my best to correct it. I made a choice, and I chose to change and grow.

That was 2013. Now let’s fast-forward to 2020.

Last week one of my data platform community heroes, Jen Stirrup, stepped down as a Microsoft MVP because the MVP program has not chosen to change and grow.

I want to unpack that last sentence before I proceed. Please bear with me, because this is important.

Jen is one of my heroes. She’s deeply technical – she’s one of those people who knows more things about more things than anyone could ever be expected to know. She works with some of the biggest companies in the world, helping them deliver global scale data solutions using a huge range of technologies. She can hold her own standing with the best of the best because she’s that good. She’s also an effective communicator who freely and selflessly shares what she knows. She’s soft-spoken, but when she’s speaking it’s worth leaning in and listening to what she has to say.

But that’s not the only reason she’s a hero. Jen is compassionate and tireless, and speaks the hard truths where so many others would chose the easy path and remain silent. Jen consistently chooses the right thing even though she knows it is also the hard thing.

And Jen chose to give up her status as an MVP. If you know anything about the program, you’ll know that this is a big deal. The MVP program comes with significant benefits and access to information that is invaluable to someone in her profession. I remember being an MVP and I know that I could not have done what she did. I am in awe.

The final thing I want to unpack is community – I called Jen a data platform community hero. The context of a community carries some baggage that may not be obvious, and I want to look at it a little bit here. Every community is defined by the behaviors it tolerates. If a community tolerates abusive behavior, that abusive behavior will thrive and will become the norm. People who can’t tolerate the abusive behavior will leave, and they won’t return. People who are made uncomfortable by the abusive behavior will engage less, and contribute less. And people who appreciate the abusive behavior will recognize that it is allowed, and they will repeat and amplify it. This is how communities work – not just technical communities.

Weeding out the “bad apples” isn’t enough. Successful communities need to define what they want to be, and to do it deliberately. I don’t know of any technical communities that do this[4], but I know one in another part of my life: Valkyrie Western Martial Arts Assembly. Valkyrie is a martial arts school in Vancouver, BC that saw the abusive behavior in the North American HEMA[5] community and decided to be something different. In this awesome blog post, Valkyrie co-owner Kaja Sadowski describes how she did what she did, and why. Please read the whole post (it’s much shorter than this one) but for now, please read this bit:

If a female student is worried about whether the guy she’s partnered with is going to hit on her again, or “accidentally” grab her breast, or refuse to hit her in drills, she can’t focus on her training. If an Asian student feels like he has to prove he’s not a bookish stereotype, or has to put up with constant shitty Kung Fu jokes, he can’t focus on his training. If a queer student is anxious about how their fellow students will react when their partner comes to pick them up after class, or a transgender student is stuck worrying they’ll be called out for using the “wrong” bathroom or misgendered by their training partner, they can’t focus on their training. All of these students end up in a position where their learning suffers, because they can’t put 100% of their energy and effort into their training and instead have to deal with the background noise of harassment and discrimination. If I put them in that position, I have failed them as an instructor.

Kaja decided that inclusion and diversity was important, so she decided to be aggressively inclusive.

Aggressively. Inclusive.

And the results are fantastic. I’m a middle-aged straight white guy. I’m tall and reasonably fit and reasonably good and I expect I would be welcome in any club. I have never felt more welcome than I am at Valkyrie. I visit Valkyrie for events, and am delighted when they come down to my club in Seattle for our events. They built a community that is aggressively inclusive for the people who might feel unwelcome in a traditional martial arts school, and along the way they built a community that includes everyone.

That’s how inclusion works.[6]

I’m not done. There’s one more thing I need to call out here – both because it’s important and because it is central to Jen’s decision – and that is the #MeToo movement.

Some of you might be saying “MeToo is so 2017, is that still a thing?” I hope not, because that is likely to get the swearing started, and I’ve done so well so far.

MeToo has the name that it does because women have put up with sexual harassment and sexual abuse that men don’t experience, and often men don’t see. Women are literally saying “me too – I have also suffered the thing that you are talking about” because for far too long they’ve been told everything but this.  Most[7] of the women you work with have been harassed and abused at every step of their careers, and they’ve tolerated it as best they could.

This is important, and this goes back to my personal story from 2013.

My choice of slides may not have been a big deal. On their own, they may not have been worth mentioning, even for someone who would rather I chose different images and phrases. But they weren’t on their own – they were part of a lifetime of challenges and indignities large and small. Despite my lack of malice, they were another straw on the back of someone who didn’t need one more person telling her she wasn’t welcome, and I was that person. Casual sexism doesn’t need to be intentional to be hurtful.

In 2013 the only person who mentioned that complaint was the guy telling me it was no big deal.

In 2016 a small martial arts school decided to build a welcoming and inclusive place for everyone, and their results speak for themselves.

In 2020 one of my heroes left the MVP program.

I suspect that in 2020 there are young women and brilliant people from other underrepresented groups who are questioning if the MVP program has a place for them.

Communities are defined by the behaviors they tolerate.

One community in this story chose to make diversion and inclusivity a true priority, and one apparently did not. One invested time and money and careful thought in “actively and aggressively building… a safe space for all,” and the other one apparently did not.

I hope the MVP program will recognize this moment for the wake-up call it is. I hope the MVP program will choose to change and grow.

But it needs to be a choice.

Hey, look – no swearing after all. Good on me[8].


[1] The MVP Summit is an NDA event, which is one of the things that makes is to much fun.

[2] If this phrase feels immediately inappropriate as you read this today, I would like to share this MacMillan Dictionary post from the general timeframe of this event that calls this phrase “a vividly effective metaphor for conveying transparency and frankness” which nicely sums up my intent.

[3] The same brain that made it hard for me to know who might have been offended by my presentation also makes it hard for me to remember the male MVP who let me know about the complaint. Faces and names have always been hard for me.

[4] Not to say that they don’t exist – there’s a universe of stuff out there I don’t know about. If you know of a vibrant and inclusive technical community, please tell me.

[5] HEMA stands for Historical European Martial Arts, which is a blanket term for the modern swordplay practice I love so much. The HEMA community has enough “bad apples” to drive away many people who would love it as much as I do, including sexism, racism, and more. That community is starting to change and grow, and Valkyrie is part of the reason. There are some other delightful folks in this community who take no bullshit, and I love them too. If you want to imagine what the abusive behavior looks like, watch Karate Kid, but give the Cobra Kai dudes swords.

[6] If you don’t believe me, check out this great presentation from Jasmine Orange on “Designing for the ten percent.”

[7] Look it up yourself – do a little legwork on this one, bro.

[8] This was a rough post to write – it’s difficult to talk about hurtful mistakes even if they’re years in the past. I like to think I am a better person than I was a year or a decade ago, but I still make mistakes. I still act thoughtlessly and carelessly, and I still fail to live up to the moderately lazy standards I set for myself. But I’m trying, and the people in my life are forgiving.

You can do it – don’t give up!

After my recent post where I dug into hidden difficulties, I feel like it’s important to share the other side of the story. If you really want to do something, you can do it[1].

It’s easy to look around – especially on social media – and see people making complex and difficult tasks look simple and effortless. It’s also easy to judge your own learning processes, struggles, and failures, against the final edited results of people who have been learning and practicing for years – and to feel disheartened by the comparison.

Please do not fall into this trap – everyone makes mistakes. Take a look at this outtake from my recent video on being a PM at Microsoft:

The final video ended up including around 20 minutes of “talking head” footage, but I had closer to 40 minutes of raw footage before I edited out all most of the mistakes and false starts.

It’s not just me. One of my data community heroes, Power BI MVP Ida Bergum, recently shared a similar example:

If you’re ever feeling like an impostor[2], like there’s no way your efforts could ever measure up to all the “experts” you see online, don’t give up. You can do it.

Every successful example that you see online or at a conference or on a bookstore shelf has gone through the same journey. They may be further down the path – that’s usually the easy thing to see. They also had a different starting point and they probably have a different destination in mind as well, even if it’s close to your goals.

Even if you see someone and think “I wish I…” it’s important to remember that they struggled along the way as well. Odds are they struggled in different ways or in different places, but no one’s journey is free of bumps and detours – even if people usually prefer to share the highlights from the easy parts.

One of my favorite quotes on this subject is from a cartoon alien-dog-thing, and you can find it all over Pinterest:

Picture from https://quotesgram.com/adventure-time-jake-the-dog-quotes/

It never feels great to suck at something you want to not suck at, but everyone sucks at the beginning. Most people just don’t like to admit it – at least not until they’ve moved past the “sorta good” phase.

One overlooked benefit of being earlier on your learning journey is that you can still remember what it was like to suck at something, and what was valuable to you then. If you’ve been doing something every day for 20 years, odds are you may not remember what it was like to just be starting off. But if you are becoming sorta good at something, you have a perspective that you can share with everyone out there who sucks at that thing, and would really like to be sorta good.

Anyway… I didn’t quite figure out how to get the narrative for this post into written form. The story was there in my head, but didn’t want to take shape once I started typing. But I won’t let that stop me, because it doesn’t need to be perfect to be good, and useful.[3]


[1] I’ve included the “if you really want” qualifier deliberately. Motivation and desire are critical for success, because it’s that want that will push you to keep getting back up after you fall down, and will keep you looking for more resources and opportunities to learn and improve.

[2] I still remember the day I first read this blog post by Scott Hanselman. My friend Cheryl had shared it on Facebook, with a comment about how she had thought “it was just me.” I’d known and admired Cheryl for years, and had no idea she felt this way, because I’d only ever seen her kicking butt. This is just another example of why it’s important to talk about mental health.

[3] I swear I didn’t plan this ending, but once it presented itself you’re darned right I was going to run with it.

Diving into the blender

Sometimes things are hard.

Sometimes things are hard, not just hard for you, but just really hard.

And sometimes you can’t always tell which is which, until after the hardship has passed.

This post is something of a personal story, but based on the positive responses I’ve received to my post on being a PM at Microsoft, I suspect that there might be someone out there that might find some lesson or inspiration or something in the story.

In the summer of 2011 I  moved my family from upstate New York to Redmond, WA to join the SQL Server Integration Services[1] PM team. I’d been an SSIS MVP before joining Microsoft in 2008, and this felt like a real dream job. I could help the team finish and ship SSIS in SQL Server 2012, and then make the next version of SSIS better than it could otherwise be.

Except it didn’t quite work out that way.

In reality, I was joining a part of Microsoft that was at the forefront of the massive wave of change that transformed the company into the Microsoft we know today. Everything was in flux, from roles and responsibilities to ownership and processes, to the fundamental questions of what products and services we would build and ship. The 18 months that followed was a series of large and small reorgs, and every time I felt like I was getting my feet under me, everything seemed to change again.

People around me seemed to be rolling with it, and adapting to the new reality. For me, it was chaos, and I floundered. Even though I had worked for Microsoft for three years, this was my first technical PM role. I made it through, but it was one of darkest periods on my adult life. It was hard. It almost broke me, and I thought it was me.

Image by AD_Images from Pixabay
Pixabay didn’t have any pictures of blenders, and this one really captures how it felt.

Later on in 2014 I was working as a program manager on the first generation of Azure Data Catalog, and I was interviewing a new member of the PM team. For the purposes of this story[2] I’ll call this new PM Rick. Rick was a veteran PM who had shipped multiple major features in SQL Server and the first releases of SQL Azure, so he was interviewing the team as much as we were interviewing him.

During the interview, Rick asked me to tell my story – how did I end up where I was, where had I worked, what did I do, that sort of thing. So I told him my story, and when I got to the summer of 2011, he inhaled so sharply that I paused. I looked at him, and saw a look of surprise and respect[3] on his face. He looked at me, and he said:

Damn. You dove into the fucking blender.

He then went on to talk about how in his experience this time and place was the epicenter of unprecedented change and disruption that saw many veterans struggle – and saw many of them decide to look for opportunities elsewhere.

Rick and I worked together for for the next year and a half, and I learned a lot from him over that time. But I think the most important lesson I learned was that it wasn’t just me. I’d thought I was going for a swim in familiar waters, but I had actually dived into a blender, and I managed to get out with most of my extremities still attached.

That’s the story.

I think there’s a lesson in there somewhere about not giving up, about being true to yourself, and about doing what you think is the right thing to do, even when it feels like nothing you do is making any difference on the world of struggle around you. This would be a great lesson, if it’s actually in there.

The lesson that I know is in there is that sometimes things are really hard, and it’s not just you. This isn’t a nice lesson or an easy one, but that doesn’t make it any less real.


[1] SSIS FTW!!

[2] Also because it is his name.

[3] I’m not the best at reading emption, so I honestly don’t know if there was any respect there, but it sounds good so I’m going to roll with it. Rick can correct me if he needs to. He knows where I live.

Don’t tell me it’s easy

“This will be really easy for you to do.”

“This is super simple.”

“This shouldn’t take you long at all.”

bulb-1994881_640

Every time you say this to someone, you’re diminishing them.

Every time you tell someone that completing a task or solving a problem will be easy, you’re telling them that you don’t know them and that you don’t care to know.

You’re saying loud and clear “you’re just like me, and if you’re not just like me then tough luck.”

Don’t do this.

Instead, take the time to realize that your experience and perspective may not be universal. Other people may have different perspectives, different strengths and weaknesses, different skills and different knowledge.

Someone with dyslexia may struggle with some common tasks that involve consuming or processing written information, despite reading every day.

Someone on the autism spectrum may struggle with tasks that involve social interaction, understanding the motivations and goals of others, or understanding how their actions will be perceived by others, despite interacting with people every day.

Someone who is short may struggle reaching items on high shelves, despite taking things off and putting things back onto shelves every day.[1]

Despite any hidden difficulties, these struggling people may still show every sign of effortless success. The things that are constantly difficult for them may be part of their day-to-day work. The tasks that challenge and batter and exhaust them may be part of the successes that define their public persona and reputation. But this doesn’t make the struggle any less real. This doesn’t make it easy.

When someone completes a task that would be easy for you, it could be because it is also easy for them. But it could also be because they spent extra hours or days preparing, or that they have special tools and practices that enable their success.

Speaking of tools and practices, let’s get back to those short people. I’m choosing this example because it’s a simple one that everyone will be able to relate to, or at least to understand. Mental and emotional challenges are no less real than physical ones, but they’re often more difficult to communicate and appreciate.

My wife is a foot (30.5 cm) shorter than I am. We both cook a lot, and we share kitchen tasks like cleaning and putting away dishes.

In our kitchen we we use the top of the cupboards as extra storage for large bowls and canisters and such. I can reach these items with ease, although I may need to stand on my toes to get a better grip. Most of the time I don’t even think about it. For me the top of the cupboards is just another handy shelf.

My wife cannot begin to reach the top of the cupboards – what is simple and effortless for me is difficult or impossible for her without additional help or tools. If she needs to get down something from the shelf she needs to walk into the dining room, get a chair, bring the chair into the kitchen, stand on the chair, get down the item she needs, step down from the chair, take the chair back into the dining room, and return to the kitchen to use whatever item she took down.

Think about that: what might take me half a second and a single motion might take her a minute or more, including some potentially dangerous steps along the way.

Of course, the solutions here are as trivial as the problem itself: I get down and put away the things my wife needs, and we are selective in what we store above the cupboards so this is an edge case rather than a common occurrence. But the only reasons we’re able to find this shared path to success is because we recognize the challenge and collaborate to apply our own individual strengths, while acknowledging and minimizing the impact of our individual weaknesses.

When someone’s work appears effortless, it could be because it comes naturally to them, and they may move on easily to their next chore, and the next. But it could also be that the effort is hidden, and that when the work is done they will need a few hours or a few days just to recover from the herculean exertion that you will never see.

You don’t know, and you probably never will.

So don’t tell me it’s easy, even if it is easy for you. Instead, work with me to discover how it can be easier for us, working together.


[1] Hold that thought. I’ll come back to this one.

 

Being a Program Manager at Microsoft

My awesome friend Christopher also works at Microsoft, but his career and mine have taken different paths since we joined. Here we are together back in 2008, before either one of us worked at Microsoft. He’s the one not wearing a Manowar t-shirt.

gateslunch1
No, no, the other one.

Our backgrounds are remarkably similar. We each spent years before joining Microsoft as Microsoft Certified Trainers, with an emphasis on software development rather than systems administration. We each became involved in the MCT community, and in the broader technical community, and to one extent or another this helped us find our first positions at Microsoft.

These days Christopher is working with student developers – I’ve seen him tweeting a lot recently about Django on Twitch, which probably means that he’s still teaching people about software development… or may be watching Quentin Tarantino movies while drinking too much coffee. Honestly, either one is possible.

Anyway… Christopher reached out to me last month and asked if I’d be interested in talking to college students about to graduate about what it’s like being a program manager at Microsoft. I said yes[1], then I said this:

I’ll let the video speak for itself. I tell my story for the first 15 minutes or so, and around the 14:50 mark I talk with Will Thompson and Tessa Hurr from the Power BI team and ask them to share their experiences as well. But there are a few things that I want to add that didn’t really fit well into the video.

First of all, every team has a need for many types of program managers. I’ve blogged about diversity enough that you probably know how I feel about the value of diverse teams, and this applies to PM teams at Microsoft as well. Since this video is targeted at college students and recent college graduates, I’d like to focus briefly on the career diversity dimension.

What does “career diversity dimension” mean? Looking at most PM teams I see program managers falling into three broad groups:

  1. New to career – program managers who are starting their careers after college, or after switching from a non-IT discipline.[2]
  2. Industry hires – program managers who are new to Microsoft, but who have an established career in a related field.[3] This is often someone who has been a consultant, developer or administrator who works hands-on with Microsoft or competitive tools and technologies.
  3. Veterans – program managers who have been at Microsoft long enough to succeed a few times, fail a few times, and understand what PM success can look like on multiple teams.[4]

Reading this list it may be easy to think that there is a progression of value implied, but this is not the case. A successful team will find ways to get from each group the things that only they can contribute. A PM in one group will be able to see things and do things that a PM in other groups will not, and an experienced team leader will be able to direct each PM to the problems that they are best suited to solve, and can add the most value.

The second thing I wanted to add to the video is that each team is different. I said this in the video, but I want to elaborate here. Each team will have its own culture, and some teams will be a better fit than others for a given PM. I’ve worked on multiple teams where I didn’t think I was contributing effectively, or where I felt that my contributions weren’t valued[5]. At one point this culture mismatch almost led me to leave Microsoft, but with the support of my manager at the time I instead found another team in another org where I could thrive.

And this leads me to the the final point I wanted to add: Microsoft is huge. I’ve been a PM at Microsoft since October 2008, but I’ve had 4 or 5 major career changes since then, with very different responsibilities after each change, requiring very different contributions from me.

When I was interviewing for my first position in 2008, the hiring manager asked me why I wanted to work for Microsoft. I already had a successful career as a data warehousing and ETL consultant, and becoming a Microsoft employee would include a reduction in income, at least in the short term. Why give up what I’d built?

I hadn’t expected this question, and my answer was authentic and unscripted, and I’ve thought a lot about it over the past 11+ years. I told him that I wanted to join Microsoft because Microsoft had bigger and more challenging problems to solve than I would ever see as a consultant, and would never run out of new problems for me to help solve. If I joined Microsoft, I would never be bored.

I wanted to join Microsoft because Microsoft had bigger and more challenging problems to solve than I would ever see as a consultant, and would never run out of new problems for me to help solve. If I joined Microsoft, I would never be bored.

And I was right.

If you’re a PM at Microsoft, please share your thoughts and experiences.

If you’re thinking about becoming a PM at Microsoft, please share your questions.

If you’ve joined Microsoft as a PM after watching this video and reading this blog, please send me an email, because I would love to say hi.


[1] It’s a good thing he asked when he did. I haven’t had a haircut since late February, and I don’t know when I’ll let anyone point a camera at my head again…

[2] This was kind of me when I first applied for a position at Microsoft in the 90s, although I already had a few years’ experience. I was not hired.

[3] This was me in 2008 when I was hired.

[4] This is me in 2020. I tend to talk about the successes more, but it’s the failures I think about the most, and where I learned the most along the way. Success is awesome, but it’s a lousy teacher.

[5] Yes, this sucked as much as you could imagine.

Think before you GIF

Animated GIF images are an inescapable part of our online experiences, and more and more tools make it easier and easier to include them in our written communication. Sometimes this can be a good thing.

Sometimes. Not all times.

Before you include a GIF image – especially one that flashes or blinks or strobes – in your next chat message, please pause to consider the impact that this may have on the recipients.

burnout-3721062_640

Before you include a GIF, ask yourself:

  • How many people will see this – is this a 1:1 chat, or is it a large group?
  • Does the GIF include flashing, strobing, blinking, fast-moving images?
  • Do any of the people who will see the GIF have photosensitive conditions like seizures or migraines?
  • Are you sure?
  • Does the software tool you’re using allow users to disable GIF autoplay?

I include this last point because Microsoft Teams does not provide any option to disable GIF autoplay. Seriously – even tough the UserVoice forum for Teams says that this was done in 2017, the Teams UX today does not provide any option for users to prevent GIFs from playing for them.

So if you are on a Teams meeting with 100 people and you post a GIF, everyone sees it. And odds are, that GIF you posted will mean that someone on the call will need to leave the call, or close the chat, or maybe end up in a dark room in pain for the rest of the day.

So please think before you GIF.

Diversity of Perspective

I blogged last October[0] about the challenges I faced when trying to use the new Html.Table function in Power Query. A key part of my challenge was the gap between my perspective, and the perspective of the team shipping and documenting this feature.

At first I chalked this off as an old dog[1] trying to learn a new trick[2], but I’ve been thinking about this since then, and I’m not sure that this is the case. I think that it may have been the result of differing perspectives – and differing expectations resulting from those perspectives.

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay
This may or may not be a photo of Matthew

My perspective is that as a data integration tool, Power Query will work the way that my ~20 years as a data professional have trained me to expect data integration tools will work. If there’s a query language or formula language or expression language that is required to access a specific source, I expect that language to be identified and documented in the tool.

The Power Query team, on the other hand, may have had a different perspective here. I haven’t explicitly asked them[3], but I suspect that their perspective is that it’s 2018, and anyone working with HTML data already knows what CSS selectors are, and either knows how to use them, or where to look to learn enough to use them.

I don’t know which perspective is more valid. Part of me believes that mine is, and bemoans the time I spent struggling to achieve a simple goal, because the documentation didn’t connect the dots for me. But I also note that no one – not in comments here, not on Twitter – has said that they were similarly challenged.

But I can say this: A difference in perspective meant that what was delivered wasn’t what was needed, at least by one user.

Another example of this type of mismatch is one I see too often[4] at conferences: Microsoft presenters using Microsoft’s specialized vocabulary when speaking with non-Microsoft audiences. This typically takes the form of using internal code names and acronyms, rather than official product names – if you’ve been to more than a handful of Microsoft events you’ve probably seen this yourself. I think the worst example I’ve seen was when a presenter mentioned that an upcoming feature was coming “in the scandium time frame.[5]

Every culture – whether it’s centered in a geographical region, a profession, a religion, or a large corporation – has a specialized internal nomenclature. It enables members to communicate more efficiently. This isn’t a bad thing – it’s natural and good, and helps teams and groups deliver on their goals and priorities.

But problems can and do arise when one party doesn’t take the other party’s background into consideration. This is where having a diverse team can help.

When a team has a diverse makeup, it makes it more likely that potential problems will be prevented before they need to be identified, and identified before they need to be fixed.

If you want to be more efficient and to produce products and services (and documentation!) that delivers on your customers’ needs the first time, every time, by default, your team makeup should reflect the customers who use your product. If you look around and everyone on your team looks the same, this should be a warning sign that customers who don’t look like you probably don’t have the same experience that you do.

And if you don’t see that as a problem, you should probably look elsewhere for your problem. Try looking in the mirror.

Update: Two days after this post was published, David Heinemeier Hansson posted a blistering example of why diversity is so important, using his wife’s experience with Apple’s new credit card to drive the point home. I strongly recommend reading the whole thread.


[0] I started writing this post in November 2018, and it’s been languishing in my drafts folder ever since. I’m making an effort to clean up my drafts by the end of the year, so hopefully this one will actually see the light of day before it’s 2020. Fingers crossed…

[1] Me.

[2] CSS selectors.

[3] I feel like I’m enough of a problem child most days, so I try not to bother them unless it’s really necessary.

[4] Although thankfully not nearly as often as I used to.

[5] If you know what this means, you work on the Azure team[6]. Sadly, the people in the audience did not work on the Azure team. Thankfully, someone in the audience stood up and asked for clarification.

[6] When I worked on the Azure team I still didn’t know. I was constantly asking for clarification in meeting after meeting and email after email. Maybe I am just slow…

Never stop asking “stupid” questions

When I joined Microsoft, the team running my NEO[1] session shared a piece of advice with my “class” of fresh-faced new hires:

“Think of your first year as a grace period where you can ask any question you want, without anyone thinking it’s a stupid question for which you should already know the answer.”

This sounded like empowering wisdom at the time, but the unspoken side of it was damaging. Between the lines, I heard this message as well, and it was this part that stuck with me:

“You’ve got one year to figure things out, and after that you’d better have your act together and know everything – because if you keep asking stupid questions we’ll know that we made a mistake hiring you.”

I hope it’s obvious that this wasn’t the intent of the advice, but I’ve spoken to enough people over the years to know that I’m far from the only one to take it this way.

bored-3126445_640
How Matthew pictures everyone reacting when he asks questions.

In retrospect, I believe that I should have known better, but I let this unspoken message find a home in my brain, and I listened to it. I remained quiet – and remained ignorant – when I should have been asking questions.

Over the past few years[2], I have finally broken this self-limiting habit. Day after day, and meeting after meeting, I’m the guy asking the questions that others are thinking, and wishing they could ask, but don’t feel comfortable or confident enough to speak up. I’m the guy asking “why” again and again until I actually understand. And people are noticing.

How do I know that others want to ask the same questions?

I know because they tell me. Sometimes they say thank you in the meetings, and sometimes ask their own follow-up questions. Sometimes they stop me in the hall after the meeting to say thank you. And on a few occasions people have set up 1:1 meetings with me to ask about what I do, and how they can learn to do the same.

How do I know that people are noticing?

A few of the people I’ve interrupted to ask “why” have also set up time with me to discuss how they can better communicate and prepare to have more useful and productive meetings.[3] These are generally more experienced team members who appreciate that my questions are highlighting unstated assumptions, or helped them identify areas where they needed a clearer story to communicate complex topics.

I’ve been with Microsoft since October 2008 – a little over 11 years. I’ve been working in the industry since the mid 90s. At this point in my career it’s easy for me to ask “stupid” questions because the people I work with know that I’m not stupid.[4][5]

This isn’t true for everyone. If you’re younger, new to role or new to career, or from an underrepresented group[6], you may not have the position of relative safety that I have today. My simple strategy of “asking lots of questions in large groups” may not work for you, and I don’t have tested advice for what will.

My suggestion is to ask those questions in small groups or 1:1 situations where the risk is likely to be lower, and use this experience to better understand your team culture… but I would love to hear your experience and advice no matter what you do. Just as your questions will be different from mine while still being useful, your experience and advice will be different, and will be useful and helpful in different ways.

Whatever approach you take, don’t be quiet. Don’t stop asking questions.

Especially the stupid questions.

Those are the best ones.

 

P.S. While this post has been scheduled and waiting to go live, there have been two new articles that showed up on my radar that feel very relevant to this topic:

  1. The Harvard Business Review posted on Cracking the Code of Sustained Collaboration and how leaders can build and encourage cultures where these behaviors are rewarded.
  2. Ex-Microsoftie James Whittaker posted on Speaking Truth to Power, which presents critical observations of three eras of Microsoft, with examples of how different generations of leaders have affected the corporate culture.

These are very different articles, but they’re both fascinating, and well worth the time to read.


[1] New Employee Orientation. Sadly not anything to do with Keanu Reeves.

[2] I wish I could say that this was a deliberate strategic move on my part, but it was more reactive. Credit goes to the rapid pace of change and my inability to even pretend I could keep up.

[3] Yes, that means meetings where fewer people interrupt to ask “why.”

[4] I’m waiting for the flood of snarky comments from my teammates on this one…

[5] Or in any event, my asking questions is unlikely to change any minds on this particular point.

[6] If you’re not a middle-aged, white, cisgender man…

It all comes down to culture

I talk about data culture a lot, and in my presentations I often emphasize how the most important success factor when adopting a tool like Power BI[1] is the culture of the organization, not the tool itself.

I talk about this a lot, but I think Caitie McCaffrey may have just had the final word.[2]

2019-10-24-12-47-22-722--msedge

I don’t think that Caitie was talking about the enterprise adoption of self-service business intelligence, but she could have been.

In my day job I get to talk to leaders from large companies around the world, and to see how they’re adopting and using Power BI, Azure. Before today I didn’t think of Moby Dick – I thought of Leo Tolstoy’s classic Anna Karenina, which starts with this classic line:

All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

Although the details vary, large companies that have successfully adopted managed self-service BI at scale have cultures with important aspects in common:

  • Leaders empower business users to work with data
  • Leaders trust business users to use data to make better decisions
  • IT supports business users with platforms and tools and with curated data sources
  • Business users work with the tools from IT and the guidance from leaders, and work within the guardrails and guidelines given to them for this use
  • Business and IT collaborate to deliver responsive solutions and mature/stable solutions, with clearly defined responsibilities between them

Companies that are successful with managed self-service BI do these things. Companies that are not successful do not. The details vary, but the pattern holds up again and again.

How do these roles and responsibilities relate to culture?

In many ways a culture is defined by the behaviors it rewards, the behaviors it allows, and the behaviors it punishes. A culture isn’t what you say – it’s what you do.

In the context of BI, having a culture with shared goals that enable business and IT to work together with the support from the company leaders is the key. If you have this culture, you can be successful with any tool. Some tools may be more helpful than others, and the culture will enable the selection of better tools over time, but the tool is not the most important factor. The culture – not the tool – inevitably determines success.

This is not to say that BI tools should not improve to be a bigger part of the solution. But to paraphrase Caitie… maybe you should let that white whale swim past.

 


[1] But definitely not only Power BI.

[2] He says unironically, before writing many more words.