What does education mean to you?

As you all likely know, my intent is always towards education. I don’t mean traditional systems, though that works for some folk quite well (myself included). I mean the simple act of learning. The fulfillment and deepening of curiosity. It means an engagement with the world that can only be temporarily dimmed by complacency. It means the survival and prosperity of individuals, their community, and the superorganism we all compose together. But for me it’s one simple idea:

Education is the best possible fulcrum for social change.


Everyone interacts with it, even if it’s explicitly not to. Everyone agrees our current systems are broken. And through the examination of those systems, we come to understand our cultures, and how we are affected by and effecting those cultures.

I’ve gotten into 50-comment-deep threads on Google Reader before (sadface to my recently departed favorite social forum) about this sort of cultural awareness, so let me explain a bit more.
I can support whatever choices someone is making, even if I don’t fully get it or if it doesn’t seat well with my personal world view. I can only do this, though, if they have examined those choices in light of other cultural knowledge. I respect the Catholics of Seattle I’ve met because they have also understood science, Greek mythology, and what they personally get out of religion. They have educated themselves about many aspects of culture and decided what works best for them.

This is what got me into Transhumanism – that we are at a point in our evolution where through awareness, we can become self-determining. It’s why I have “we are the machine” as my first tattoo – our interactions with each other are what set us going in certain directions. That is ultimate compassion and ambition.

So. This brings us to the most recent Brainmeats podcast. It’s me and Lisha; James Carlson, my mentor and founder of Bucketworks; Beth Kolko, awesome education hacker at University of Washington; Pete Hall, another amazing education hacker, though in Auckland; Dale Dougherty of MAKE and various hands-on education initiatives; and Kushal Chakrabarti of education microloan foundation Vittana. I have the absurd pleasure of calling each of these folk “friend,” some even “dear friend” or “partner in crime.”

Kushal is doing a blogger challenge right now for Vittana. You should check that out, plus the student I just supported, and get in on one or both of these extensions of opportunity. Those of us who are privileged enough to be able to choose between if school works for us or not, and how we will pay for it if we do, have a responsibility to offer those same opportunities. How often can you say $25 changed someone’s life? I lose that in the dryer every month.

This blog post is part of the Vittana “Make a Difference” blogger challenge. The contest invites bloggers from around the world to discuss various ways to make a difference in the world, as well as share stories on who or what has made a difference in their lives.

The winning blog post will be the post that drives the most loans to students in need. Please support this cause (and this blog!) by making a loan in my name: “Willow Brugh.” Be sure to type that in when you reach the checkout page (example screenshot) The more loans you make the more educations get funded and the more recognition and traffic my site gets!

Please support this blog and contest by using this special link to tweet about it (You can edit the tweet before it’s posted, but make sure this link (http://bit.ly/s5beTT)and the hashtag #vittanachallenge is part of the tweet or Vittana won’t know you tweeted about me!)

I seem to have broken my arm..

So I seem to have broken my arm. And as one of the things I seem to be good at is making is presentations, I got you this thing.

Some stories for you:

When they wanted to take my blood, I had the option of having them cut off my conference bracelets or them digging. I chose digging.

When they found the vein, my blood was super dark. When commented upon, I explained that I was Goff.

The tech holding my very broken arm in very painful positions wore an orange camo lead apron. I insisted on the pink heart-covered one.

Two students and one doctor set my arm. This was the one part I couldn’t look at. Then I hear “you hold it in position and I’ll get her from the other side.” Of course I said “that’s what she said” and then they had to wait for me to quit giggling so I wasn’t shaking.

Love to those who saw me in the ER and who have been feeding, amusing, and petting me. The plate goes in my arm in just over a week. I’ll talk to you more later about being vulnerable and accepting help from friends, but for now I’m angsty enough at the typing.

Farewell, Dear Reader

My favorite social forum has been Google Reader for a good couple few years now. Honest discussion, silly trolling, and safe exploration have been its key features to me. I remember forcing myself to notice how seamlessly they integrated the comments feature, how it became an intrinsic part of my life easily in exactly the way puberty didn’t. We talked gender, culture, ideals, memes, and love. I saw romances unfold and collapse, revolutions half start and dissolve or evolve, friendships be shaken and cemented.

It was a safe place because I could say who had access to my shares and comments, but also see how “outsiders” interacted on the shares of dear friends. It was intellectual and thought-provoking because it was based on content, not social exchanges. It introduced people dear to my Tribe in a way that was based around shared ideals and interactive thoughts, not popularity or witticisms. And most of all, it was a way to normalize my friendships and emotional connection during constant travel. I always knew, no matter what timezone I was in, that someone had shared something, commented on someone else’s shares, and would have the consistency in character and access that geography and timezones made cognitively dissonent otherwise.

I’ve laughed at the persistent humor and intelligence of friends left in other geographies. I’ve seen and cherished the exploration and shift of gender, sexuality, and relationships of tender souls. I’ve learned about fashion and pleating and nails, things I never would have cared about but now find fascinating. I’ve trolled about Juggalos and claimed BUNK. This medium has allowed me the closeness of connection, the vulnerabilities, and the rejoicing that closely approximate real life. To someone whose “local” is geographically distributed, this has meant the world to me. It let me determine how public I was, and that is a rare and beautiful thing. And now, in yet one more place, my friendships and thoughts have become a commodity.

Apparently the same usability exists to people on G+, with some changes to make people “click” more instead of delving deep into the content, assessing, and responding. It’s more public, more based on how many followers you have. As someone who is fairly well-followed, I will be clear that the only way I can be as awesome as I am is because of my core group of dear friends. My dear friends who, as cristobat (of course a sharebro) says, “you don’t have to be cool around.” My dear friends who I can share a post about disaster response next to an image one of my kinks next to an article about cyborgs and their only response it to comment honestly about each in a way which honors, questions, and builds upon those aspects of my Self.

I can’t join G+ because I have an odd name, and risk losing acces to the other tools of theirs I use. Yes, they’re allowing pseudonyms soon, but there will be several weeks at least in the interim. Google, why are you succumbing to a broken system of “clickiness” instead of standing up for the very real, very dear exchanges that occur on your established tool? It’s like a city cutting taxes by removing the arts. Sure, it benefits a few people in the short term, but the long term societal effects are disastrous. I thought you would be better than that. I guess I was wrong. A strong and informed community would have been more beneficial to you in the long run than any capitalistic metrics of potential consumers ever would.

I uploaded screencaps of some of my favorite GReader exchanges. You have to be a friend on Flickr to see them, because they are sensitive. Ping me if you don’t have access and think you should. You can also see the Lexicon for an index of ways we’ve interacted and might one day interact again in the future.

Farewell, Dear Reader. It’s been great.

Serendipities

Wandering a museum full of the works of friends and collegues, none of which was really made initially as art, but as a way of interacting with the world — which is of course art. Explaining to a Cuban gentleman via a translator how a QR code works. He had never seen a smart phone before. My aunt smiling in the background, pleased at culture being created and shared across generations and experiences.

Searching for a can of lentil soup. Forgetting for a just a moment what city I am in, knowing only that this grocery store is like so many others, and yet so distinctly different. It’s one of those that tries desperately to be Local, but comes across as universally green washed (and delicious). Am I in a gentrified part of Berlin? In a Queen Anne shop in Seattle? In Williamsburg in NYC? Oh no, this is San Francisco. What is transit like here again?

Same person who put me in the plane JFK>SFO is waiting to pick me up in DCA. The mayor of my layover airport has a user image of a “FALL RISK” bracelet, exactly like the two put on my wrist in SFO for very charming and different reasons.

Watching friends all over the globe support and participate in protest, mourning, joy, and creation. Comments to track police activity next to posts about beautiful tattoos next to well wishes next to waking remarks from people 6 hours in the future. A new dear friend making me laugh from 2 time zones away by anthropomorphizing autocorrect. We’re not settling on simply stating what is wrong, we are creating what will take us into the future.

Finding a love note of sorts wrapped tightly around a nerd pin, lodged in a film canister, deep in my luggage. It’s written on a Berlin rail pass, making the heart strings twinge in more than a few ways.

There have also been incredibly long walks, and blue hair on dead trees, and robotic hearts sent over the ethers. I’ve used 3D displays, been handed 20 Kroners by an Icelander, tied balloons to a man in a denim suit, and played skeeball by the Atlantic.

Seattle in another 30 minutes (this will be posted later, no doubt) – one of the only two places I think “I could stay here” whenever I land. Here are my closest friends, my motorcycle, and a bed I bought. There are things called hangers, and a desk with a filing cabinet, and a cat next door.

And now I’ve landed, and been greeted in the rain by a kind heart with a lovely smile. And someone took a scrub brush to my apartment, and there are fresh flowers and local milk, and the windows have been open just long enough for a breeze. There is also a ninja sword and a surprisingly interesting bottle of wine. What a lovely life, all the parts. I may be the luckiest robot on this pale blue dot.

Postgeographic Sexuality and Hacker Pants

So I gave a talk at Arse Elektronika and here’s the prezi. I’m pretty damn proud of it.

Video streaming by Ustream
Thinking about the explicit nature of geek relationships (lulz) makes me think about the perception of geeks being socially inept. I don’t think it’s the case. People who tend to be geeks are incredibly cognizant of their interactions with people, pieces, and ideas. It’s that breaking systems means caring less for all the sections of those systems, and seeing the value in social niceties goes away with contempt for anti-intellectual culture.

Basically what I’m getting at is that I’m interested in geek sex. And not just in having it, but studying it! We had a fantastic conversation later in the day of Arse about Citizen Science for Sex Studies. I’m seriously considering doing a full-blown (again, lulz) sociological study on Hacker Pants. I’d want to know about disclosure, dark humor, consent, defining queer, gender roles, etc. What would you want to know about?

The Right to Get Paid

Paul ScrivenOh man, do I hate capitalism. But I also dislike blanket statements. SO HA.

I like paying taxes (I like roads and schools, don’t you?). I like paying devs. I like it when I have a bit of cash to pay a friend to help me sort through my house or a database. I like indicating my intent with money. I like the simplicity of expressing appreciation of effort and ability that money allows. I also like the ease of transfer of time contributions from my community-building and humanitarian response efforts to, say, the roads I get to ride on.

So here’s the thing – if someone is going to benefit from your efforts in this current system, you better be compensated either via that system or in such a way that is still worth your while. Bartering is awesome. References can also be rad (when needed and you’re just starting out).

“You are trading your life for value. Be sure you get the value.”
at Barcamp Seattle session on Shares in Startups (wish I had caught his name)

I love buying books. I love sending money to musicians. I loved paying for my Burning Man ticket (thanks, Mer, for putting it in a bracket I could afford). I love trading fruit snacks to the coffee roasters for a cup of amazing complicated Stumptown. I love making the introductions that legitimize my gifted laptop.

End point: go watch this.

Ubiquitous Burning Man Change My Life Post

image by adamcecc

image by adamcecc

This past week I learned to sit with my own ineptitude. I went to Burning Man, which the best description I’ve heard to date is “This is where you bring your best ideas of the year to burn them, because they are not good enough.”

I finally came to terms with the fact that we don’t know what we’re doing, where we are going as the human race. That we both need to work on our problems and think about what further problems our solutions will cause. We can both sit with and work on our shit. Think of it like an issue of invasive species introduced to solve a very specific problem which then overruns everything.

I saw both the artists who are so proud of what they’ve built and the people who truly appreciate it, to the people who only attend for the weekend under the false pretense that this is about debauchery with no responsibility. It is about debauchery, but about the decadence you achieve when you have next to nothing. We are digital gypsies, unifying around ideals and identities in post geographies of conferences and camps. Splitting up and reuniting around other ideals in other times and places. We flaunt the things we DO have (joy, knowledge, and yes at times even monies) and laugh at what others rely on (certification, consumerism).

The camp I went with greatly influenced my view of Burning Man, of course. A group of people who are radically self reliant, enjoy helping others, no drama, and just enough fun to maybe get caught. A group that understands the gravity of the world (haha, physics joke!) and that it must be worked on, but in order to do so there must be breaks and self care.

<3 to Saturday Morning Cartoons and our 2-story high blanket fort.

UK Passport Control

I maybe love my traveling life a bit too much.

Woke up at 0Dark:Thirty Friday morning to be in a cab to TXL by 06:00. Had already packed my bag. <3 to the Hacker Hostel. Got to the airport. They patted me down. Dumped out my bag. I removed the blade from my boot knife (box cutter ftw) and explained the CCCamp R0ket badge. They put my stuff through again, had me walk through the thing again. Took me to a side room to open up all my electronics and wipe them down with their fancy bomb towels. Sent me through again. At least the lady patting me down was attractive. A bit gruff though.
Customs in London. Passport, ticket, that little piece of paper that says who your contact is and where you’re staying (mine: London Hackerspace, woods).
“How long are you here for?”
“5 days.”
“What are you here for?”
“Conference.”
“About what?”
“Uhh.. how humanity is fucked but the stories we can tell to build better culture”
“..Kay. Who puts it on?”
“Uncivilization / Dark Mountain / New Public Thinking”
“And where are you staying?”
“In a tent.”
*glare*
“In the woods. Somewhere near London. I think. Dunno yet. Internet will tell me.”
“And Monday night?”
“Dunno yet. I think someone is hosting me, likely in my e-mail, I can pull up the info.”
“Are you traveling with anyone?”
“Not yet.”
“Do you have any paperwork? Tickets?”
“Can’t stand the stuff.”
“Do you have your ticket to return home?”
*Show her my flight info as an event on my phone*
“To Berlin. What are you doing there?”
“Staying one more night before going to Burning Man.”
“And before?”
“More camping. That time with hackers.”
“..”
“Between that and this I was working in a flat in some neighborhood I can’t pronounce.”
“Working? You don’t have a work visa.”
“No, telecommuting for work in the US.”
“What do you do?”
“I link up hacker communities to humanitarian organizations.”
*blink*
*smile*
*stamp*

Chaos Camp and What’s the Point?

20+ hours into travel (LAS->TXL), I watch the sun set over German forests. Two new friends sleep hard in the seats next to me, our luggage tucked under the seats. Cellos in my ears. Camp tomorrow.
…
Sitting in the woods, aircraft from WWII the Cold War (thanks, Skytee!) surrounding us. Chill acoustic music over the quality sound system (likely being played live a short walk away). Mate in hand, disco balls in trees. Every person I have met here is exceptional. Ever talk I have heard has been interesting.
…
As camp closes down, I feel like I’m doing the walk of shame back home from The Future. Unwashed, same clothes as the night before, the people I pass and I smile knowingly at me.
I’ve been walking and walking and walking. Finding tiny pockets of projects I hadn’t yet seen. The crepe robot. The lamayed fighter jet. The ammunitions bunker tiny rave. I haven’t slept yet since last night: there was a flash mob dance party that lasted 6 hours followed by a celebration party for going so long. There was Chinese tea service and stories in the Metalab tent in the wee hours.
I think it must be the sleep dep – people speaking moon language and wandering around in thongs and with bloodied eyes. There are fighter jets whose bombs have been yarn-bombed and a lounge on top of a tank.

But no.. It’s just Camp.

It’s not all party tho. I learned about electronic waste and more about bitcoins. I learned about my new favorite activist group, Telecomix. A lovely gent walked me through how to use sonar to make me brighter as people get closer to my bike. We’ve cooked, we’ve lugged pallets, bridged politics and hacked badges.

Was asked today what I’m taking away from life. Here are my thoughts on it:
Most mornings I wake up and I have to watch Carl Sagan videos on youtube. We’re all monkeys in clothes with language and illusions of grandeur. We have no purpose, but we can give ourselves purpose. I don’t know what answers are, but I can push to empower individuals in such a way that also makes stronger communities. I don’t think the biggest dangers will come in my lifetime, but I can help prepare for them. Shoulders of giants and all that. Ella and I get in fun conversations all the time about fighting for the survival of the species, or fighting for the advancement of the species, or just fighting for the diminishing of suffering while we’re around.
So.. taking something away? I don’t know about that. I’m learning. I’m fucking up. And I’m meeting amazing people who are far smarter and kinder and powerful than I am. And that’s an entirely enjoyable existence.

Something I love about Berlin and the European hacker scene is that there is an assumption of competence AND people tend to be much more politically minded. Of course you know what’s going on. You have an opinion on it. And you take action about it.

I could get spoiled about this.

Train Station!

even the train stations are awesome


Tiny Stories from DEFCON

Feeling at home. Looking like a badass.

Pausing conversations about individuals as mathematical constructs to hop over a bar railing to hug on Sirus.

Getting all the knots in my back worked out by a masseuse at the Paloalto party and then dancing my toes bloody to the Crystal Fucking Method playing Depeche Mode and a slew of other amazing songs. People making a variety of hearts on their phones to wave at Ken and Scott, and them playing too (mine was drawn on a whiteboard program, theirs was scrolling bit hearts).

Talking to Dan outside, drinking beer in the dry heat. Self-care while traveling, the community of distributed Tribe, and geek social responsibility.

Waking up at the castles, wandering out into the main room. Some people are drinking coffee. Some are drinking beer. Some are drinking both. There are people in swimming trunks and people in ties and people trying to find their pants. And a group of hackers sitting around, watching TV. I went over to mock them – the conversations to be had are far too fantastic to be watching TV. Ends up they were watching Modern Marvels on milk. MILK. So I sat down and joined them. It was fascinating. And you know what? They filter milk through a series of tubes.

Walking to the No More Cheap Bugs party after dim sum with the best-damn dressed group in the place. ElevatorCon (fit as many people as possible into an elevator, bounce gently). Balcony pool, Keith on decks, dance dance dance with people who are fast becoming one more Tribe. I am so spoiled.

And we still have tonight and tomorrow.