As a fresh graduate student, I had the good fortune to be welcomed into the privacy enhancing technologies (PETs) community that remains a core part of my academic work. Reflecting on what made a difference to me in feeling a sense of belonging I pick out two memories that have stuck with me over all these years and which, I think, hold a few lessons that I have taken away.
My first memory is of a Tor-dev meeting, which brings the developers, network operators, and many other contributors to the Tor project, and how it was run.
The format was a new one for me: each day was broken up into 1-hour blocks and the first part of the morning was deciding what those blocks would be used for. To arrive at topics everyone was given sticky notes and asked to take 10 minutes to think of things that they’d like to have discussions about, learn more about, or work on and then to stick these on to a large wall with all the other sticky notes from everyone else.
After all the sticky notes were up, we were asked to start moving the stickies around into topic clusters (no guidance on what made a cluster, that was for us to decide). This resulted in around 8-10 clusters being formed. Then we were each given 5 little coloured stickers that we could affix to the sticky-clusters if we also wanted to hear/work/think about the topic that had emerged. The clusters with the most stickers were then allocated the 1-hour blocks with participants being free to choose which ones they went to. Every block had someone in attendance report back on take-aways so that everyone got a chance to hear about all the topics.
What struck me as a newcomer was how inclusive the 2-day meeting was: anyone, a newcomer or old-timer, could have their thoughts right up there for anyone to see and to discuss. It also meant that people were generally more invested in the sessions they went to and provided a great way to mix old and new people together.
My take-away here was that ideas can come from anywhere, and getting people invested in what happens requires giving them a choice of what to do and how to do it.
The second memory is also about that first Tor-dev meeting, but from the perspective of the people I met. As an academic, albeit a novice one, I came in with the perspective of finding and solving important problems. However, I soon encountered in the participants a different world of thoughts, hopes, and dreams that gave me pause on what was important and who would care about my solutions. Here were people who would not give out their real names, who were wielding soldering irons and burning out capacitors to disable the microphones and cameras on their laptops, and who were not interesting in publications, but their actual safety in the real world.
At first this seemed surreal and paranoid, but over the course of the two days I started to see that these different mindsets, and lived experiences, and backgrounds, were the diverse truth (i.e. the many aspects of real problems). I had come in thinking of a particular set of experiments, schemes, and protocols, but left thinking more about whether Alice and Bob* were actually safe in the real-world and how I my work would help (or harm them).
The takeaway for me was real world solutions must be many-sided catering to many diverse users, their needs, and their local contexts. This continues to be a guiding principle in my research work, which is both inspiring yet overwhelming at times.
While I have related these examples above to my academic work, I think the take-aways also relate more generally to leadership and community building, two aspects that we all exercise at different scales and times in our lives, especially as members of the Informatics community.