In Charlottesville, the police were present in riot gear, but the rioting white people were treated with kid gloves, a stark difference from Fergusen police reaction reported by @JayDowTV who was there.
These people feel comfortable declaring it a war: “And to everyone, know this: we are now at war. And we are not going to back down. There will be more events. Soon. We are going to start doing this nonstop. Across the country. I’m going to arrange them myself. Others will too, I’m sure, but I’m telling you now: I am going to start arranging my own events. We are going to go bigger than Charlottesville. We are going to go huge.”
General McMaster, US National Security Advisor tells us “I think what terrorism is, is the use of violence to incite terror and fear. And, of course, it was terrorism” (NBC via Vox)
A Christian minister writes this plainly on his post, Yes, This is Racism. We each need to declare what we stand for in this moment and always.
We are not with you, torch-bearers, in Charlottesville or anywhere.
We do not consent to this.
In fact we stand against you, alongside the very beautiful diversity that you fear.
We stand with people of every color and of all faiths, people of every orientation, nationality, and native tongue.
We are not going to have this. This is not the country we’ve built together and it will not become what you intend it to become.
So you can kiss our diverse, unified, multi-colored behinds because your racism and your terrorism will not win the day.
Sometimes when I talk about customer use cases for software that I’m building, it confuses the people I work with. What does that have to do with engineering? Is my product manager out on leave and I’m standing in?
I’ve found that customer stories connect engineers to the problems we’re solving. When we’re designing a system, we ask ourselves “what if” questions all the time. We need to explore the bounds of the solutions we’re creating, understanding the edge cases. We consider the performance characteristics, scalability requirements and all sorts of other important technical details. Through all this we imagine how the system will interact. It is easier when the software has a human interface, when it interacts with regular people. It is harder, but just as important, when we write software that only interacts with other software systems.
Sometimes the software that we are building can seem quite unrelated from the human world, but it isn’t at all. We then need to understand the bigger system we’re building. At some point, the software has a real-world impact, and we need to understand that, or we can miss creating the positive effects we intend.
On many teams over many years, I’ve had the opportunity to work with other engineers who get this. When it works there’s a rhythm to it, a heartbeat that I stop hearing consciously because it is always there. We talk to customers early and often. We learn about their problems, the other technologies they use, and what is the stuff they understand that we don’t. We start describing our ideas for solutions in their own words. This is not marketing. This influences what we invent. Understanding how to communicate about the thing we’re building changes what we build. We imagine this code we will write, that calls some other code, which causes other software to do a thing, and through all of the systems and layers there is some macro effect, which is important and time critical. Our software may have the capability of doing a thousand things, but we choose the scenarios for performance testing, we decide what is most normal, most routine, and that thing needs to be tied directly to those real effects.
Sometimes we refer to “domain knowledge” if our customers have special expertise, and we need to know that stuff, at least a little bit, so we can relate to our customers (and it’s usually pretty fun to explore someone else’s world a bit). However, the most important thing our customers know, that we need to discover, is what will solve their problems. They don’t know it in their minds — what they describe that they think will solve their problems often doesn’t actually. They know it when they feel it, when they somehow interact with our software and it gives them agency and amplifies their effect in the world.
Our software works when it empowers people to solve their problems and create impact. We can measure that. We can watch that happen. For those of us who have experienced that as software engineers, there’s no going back. We can’t write software any other way.
Customer stories, first hand knowledge from the people whose problems I’m solving spark my imagination, but I’m careful to use those stories with context from quantitative data. I love the product managers who tell me about rapidly expanding markets and how they relate to the use cases embedded in those stories, and research teams who validate whether the story I heard the other day is common across our customers or an edge case. We build software on a set of assumptions. Those assumptions need to be based on reality, and we need to validate early and often whether the thing we’re making is actually going to have a positive effect on reality.
Customer stories are like oxygen to a development team that works like this. Research and design teams who work closely with product managers are like water. When other engineers can’t explain the customer use cases for their software, when they argue about what the solution should be based only on the technical requirements, sometimes I can’t breathe. Then I find the people who are like me, who work like this, and I can hear a heartbeat, I can breathe again, and if feels like this thing we are making just might be awesome.
I built a fake fireplace in celebration of our team shipping Cloud Functions for Firebase. The codename was “hearth” — the product was almost ready for public beta by the time I joined the team, yet I know it was an epic journey to create a long-awaited feature and I felt the milestone deserved dramatic punctuation.
If you would like to build your very own fake fireplace, here’s how…
I reached out to our helpful facilities staff to make sure that I understood the constraints of the space. (I didn’t want to buy or create something that would be immediately taken down!) James Miller from facilities investigated some options:
“Since a hearth is technically the flat stone floor or the part outside of the fireplace, putting up just a fireplace and mantel leaves out the most important part, but including it presents a tripping hazard.” He suggested a quick and easy solution would be to temporarily change the display play a 8hr yule log video or on extra computer monitor with some fake foam bricks. He noted that some prop fireplaces which look pretty good in the photos, but are just cardboard. There are more expensive electronic fireplaces, but we can’t have anything that includes heating features similar to a space heater, and he reported “most that I’ve seen online are also missing the most important part… the actual hearth.”
Initially I felt that a literal interpretation of the “hearth” code name was not a critical element. We explored buying a real fake fireplace, but the ones we found were very small and we felt they were very expensive relative to the potential impact. However, his thoughts on the meaning of “hearth” later led to some important design elements. I love being involved in a collaborative creative process!
James suggested that something in a stage prop style would have dramatic effect, perhaps using styrofoam so that it would be light and easy to move, if we needed to shift it in the future around team moves. In brainstorming location, he helped me remember to pick out a spot with an electrical outlet.
Measure Twice, Cut Once
I surreptitiously took a photo of the area, and arrived early one morning with a tape measure to determine its maximum dimension.I then measured the computer monitor I planned to use to determine the minimum internal dimension.
There was actually a third, very important measurement: the internal size of my car, which later became a critical optimization. I designed the fireplace in three pieces, so it could fit into the car, which also made it much lighter and easier to transport. Styrofoam is rather fragile, and the smaller pieces fit easily through doors.
Tools & Supplies
Tools: tape measure, hammer, screw driver, propane torch, safety googles, mask, electric drill, electric sander, garden shears, mat knife, level, steel square
I had never worked with styrofoam before and read that it could be carved with a sharp knife, acetone or a hot knife. If it were a small project, a regular soldering iron would likely have been fine, but I wanted something that would be fast and really liked that the propane torch I found had two different tips as well as an open flame option. The small hand-held propane filled torch is also easier to work with than my electric soldering iron which requires an extension cord.
I tested carving and painting the styrofoam very early, including figuring out how long the paint took to dry. I found that painting the white cracks before painting the red bricks made it come out a bit better. It was also good to test carving to create an effect that looks like mortar.
Wooden frame: I uses 1″ thick boards for the frame. Discount Builders in San Francisco has a friendly staff and cut long 12′ or 8′ boards into the lengths I needed. The hearth is a separate component, which is like a hollow box with one side missing, where the missing side is actually attached to the larger frame, so the top can rest on it for stability and is not actually physically attached. I used a level and steel square for an even frame and wood screws.
Top: I used a single 1″ thick board and drilled small holes for pegs to attach the top to the frame in a way that could be easily removed, yet fit snugly. I used garden shears to cut a long wooden dowel into 1″ lengths to create the pegs. I used an electric sander for rounded edges on three sides, and finished with fine sandpaper. I then coated with a few coats of gloss paint (which would have been easier if I had remembered primer!).
Styrofoam: for the large panels I found that using small nails to hold the styrofoam in place made it easier to keep everything steady while gluing it all together. I attached all of the styrofoam panels before carving bricks with the torch. Large cuts were most effective with a mat knife.
Carving the bricks: I found a few inspirational Fireplace images via Google Image Search and drew bricks with a Sharpie, then traced the lines with the torch using the soldering gun tip. Then I went back and made the brick edges a bit irregular and created a few cracks in random bricks. I also used an open flame in areas to create more texture.
Painting the bricks: I mixed acrylic paint with a little dish soap and water, which makes it easier to coat the styrofoam. I noticed that most fireplaces have irregular brick colors, so I varied the colors a bit with yellow and brown highlights, as well as black “sooty” areas.
The inside is painted black with a piece of cardboard as backing.
I studied sculpture in college, so I had practical experience with wood construction, and learned a bit more from the amazing people who publish about their experience on the web. Here are some links to resources that I found particularly helpful.