OneTwentyEight is back - shaken a bit, and doubling down on a healthy diet - now that they are back. DKA is no joke - and they were being treated for sepsis.
NerdHaven is teaching me about a number of medical things - and sepsis is one of them that stuck with me. Once it starts, your odds of surviving drop by about 10% every hour or so.
OneTwentyEight knows this - they learned it at the same talk I did. Thankfully, the treatment for it is simple and effective. Once treatment began, OneTwentyEight was in the clear.
But they are not indulging like they used to - and our team is trying to do the same things as before (bringing in bagels, running for take out) without being insensitive. Hey! Who wants stuffed crust?
Things are stabilizing.
Noddy has reached a new level of annoying. So much so - that Runner, Sprint and I have regular meetings where we b!tch about Noddy. It's starting to affect productivity.
In the interest of not annoying the crap out of people I will skip over Noddy's latest entry into the D-bag Hall of Fame - and point out a small something that made me smile.
Today, we were meeting with Product - in kind of a big deal discussion of an upcoming project. And - as they have in countless meetings before - Noddy starts dozing off.
This has become so commonplace - that Runner and I share a brief eyeroll and get back to the meeting. Which is sad - shouldn't we do something? Say something? But what would we do? Hey, Noddy! Wake the hell up, huh? That would go out over the teleconference and into the recording.
I'm thinking.... well, I dunno - that I don't want to go there.
About the time I've forgotten about Noddy, I look over at Product and they are looking at Noddy. Then they look at me, feign like they are passing out and give me a look as if to say "Is that really happening?"
Runner and I just look back at Product. Hellyea that is happening.
It's petty of me - I know. But somebody outside of UX is noticing that Noddy sleeps on the job.
But that's not the good thing I wanted to talk about.
Back when I was bailing out of CorpWorld - I was contacted by the President of UX Candy Land. One of those "I hear music" kind of contacts. Full on awesome and (naturally) I'd just taken another job that would implode on me in seven months.
Thanks, but no thanks, PerfectJob...I'm gonna climb aboard this sinking ship. Bon Voyage!
I'd pointed Candy Land's president towards Stimpy - who was on professional life support over at CorpWorld - and let PerfectJob slip away.
Now, of course - Candy Land wouldn't be the perfect job for me. The commute's longer and - aside from Noddy - my current job is just awesome.
So today, out of the blue - the President of Candy Land contacts me again. He's looking for someone to do UX work for him. Short term - with the possibility of turning into a full time position (yeah, I know. Contract gigs always say that, but I'd lay good odds on this one).
Anyway. I'm genuinely flattered to be contacted again. The President isn't really asking me to apply - they just want to know if I could refer them to some UXers. I'm never going to be well connected - but I got to feel like a known entity in my profession.
In a ridiculously small way, I know.
I can't do this job, and most of the UXers I know are placed, but I ping Stimpy. Stimpy never got a shake at Candy Land last go round. I figure I'l ping them and see if they are up for some short term work.
Stimpy's just back from overseas and they are off CorpWorld's payroll. Not only are they interested, but they've already been contacted by Candy Land. Turns out, Candy Land's President remembers my earlier recommendation of Stimpy and contacted them directly.
Stimpy is so happy - and I'm practically radiating.
I mean - it's going to sound dumb, but no way I get where I am without the help of folks like Sensei, Anjin-san, The Artist, Ruby... hell, everybody in the old crew.
And you say 'thank you' when you can, but it's nowhere close to adequate. You've altered the trajectory of my life, made it possible for me to better provide for my children... so here's a card I bought in a drugstore.
There's no way to square that.
-But I can help Stimpy.
Its still early, and it may not work out. Or the gig may not go permanent. But the thought of finally being about to do something to help one of the old crew out...
Well, it's the best feeling I've had in a while.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Tuesday, September 02, 2014
Man Down
I'm going to break one of my rules and address how long it's been since I've posted.
It's been forever - and my thanks to those who have asked after me.
Nerdhaven has been good to me. I've herded some new features into production along with Runner & Sprint. Code was written, users were interviewed, and future iterations are planned.
And I've gotten two vacations since I started. Honest to God take-the-family-someplace-fun vacations.
We saw waterfalls - and buffalo. Someone broke into our car.
Fun was had by all.
We've survived the child care pong of summer - and with school at last beginning - I felt poised to start the final big push to land Arwafn with a full set of features.
Runner and I are joined at the hip these days - and we are going to get this thing done.
Without Noddy.
Because of a date picker. I'll explain.
Runner and I spent a good deal of time sorting through the work pile and looking for what gets spec'ed out next. We're given a truly staggering amount of leeway to do this and neither of us want to tank on this so we start getting micromanaged.
Deliver the goods on time, you get to run your own room. Fail to deliver - and corporate will be all up in your sh!t.
We want to avoid that at all costs. So we're hitting it hard. Problem is, that 'we' only includes two people. Noddy - while on paper assigned to help out with the larger effort that includes Arwafn - pointedly does jack sh!t.
I wish I was exaggerating this, but we log all our work into a web app. I can run activity histories on anyone on the project and the work they contribute to queue. True, a good amount of work is done outside of the app - but any tangible end product must end up there. You might have a gap in a log for awhile, but the gap would end with a flurry of activity when all your offline efforts turned into deliverables. I'm looking at Noddy's activity history and there's a two month gap of nothing.
Nothing. In two months. The gap starts when Noddy copies a set of old stories written by Sensei into a new section of the app. Copy and paste. Then two months of nothing... then three bits of work were slightly edited. Then two more weeks of nothing.
I have watched Noddy sit at their desk and surf Ebay. Now, we all hit the web sometimes at work. Perfectly acceptable, so long as you keep it under control.
Noddy is running a side business selling collectibles - during work hours, on their work machine.
Runner and I tried giving work to Noddy, in the hopes of bringing them around. Every single task we gave them turned into weeks of delay - followed by their asking us to do the work for them.
"Can you look through this? Feel free to edit whatever."
Or, you know, do it for me.
We asked Noddy to do a truly basic piece of UI - select a date range - just to keep them from meddling in the work that mattered. THREE WEEKS later - they return with a fully functioning prototype, delivered in executable file. They demo'ed it to us for feedback and Runner and I were just aghast.
In UX - you don't do this. Not out of the gate. Not without bouncing your early drafts off your colleagues. Because now we have to tell them that their shiny executable is (to put it mildly) horsh!t UI. A huge wedge of screen real estate devoted to a small problem - that could have been addressed with a one day mock up!
Three weeks. True - Runner and I were glad to have the break from Noddy. So long as they had something that was theirs, they would stop leaning over our desks and offering high handed wisdom about what we "should" be doing. So, we let them waste their time instead of ours.
But that was the last bit for me. I have regular check ins with the boss, UXDir and while I'd tried to stay above the fray - I finally lost it.
"What the hell is going on with Noddy?" I detailed our frustrations with getting work out of him - using two specific examples where time and effort were lost waiting for them to produce.
UXDir nodded knowingly and asked "If I get them out of your way, would that help?"
"Absolutely."
UXDir told me neither of us had to involve him in our project work - and that Noddy would be given other assignments.
Sweet!
Freed up from pretending to count on Noddy - or invite them to our meetings. Runner and I settled in to do get stuff done.
Noddy chose some low priority work and basically stayed at the back of the queue. They were working on stuff, they said- but it was so far down on the list it would never get worked on.
Which meant, again, that they did nothing.
Runner and I hurled ourselves into our project work. We would get nothing out of Noddy, but we had two kick-ass devs in BigDog and OneTwentyEight and we were giving them a steady stream of work.
Sh!t. Got. Done.
Over on the west coast, our senior team member, Sprint, was in a similar situation. The Professor had bailed out leaving a huge pile of smoke and mirrors in their wake that Sprint (and Data) would be expected to turn into awesomeness. And they were still crushing it. Sprint is just an incredible person. There's no real way to express my professional admiration for them without coming across as a total dork, so I try not to get in their way and remain pleasant.
I want to be like Sprint. Pair me up with a snobbish, do-nothing, pot-head of a designer - fine. I'll still kick this job's ass. What about that? Oh, they quit? Fine. Less hassle for me.
Sprint works with Data, but being down a UX role in that office is way less than ideal. Sprint has still outproduced Runner and I combined. For months. They rock.
Months you say? Yeah. I hate to pick on the boss, but UXDir is not really quick out of the gate on administration things. Y'know, stuff like standing on laggers' heads - or hiring replacements for folks who left in May.
A few weeks ago - we got invites to participate in panel interviews for replacing the Professor. I'm flattered to be asked. I remember my interview panel: Heater, Noddy, Flyer, UXDir and OneTwentyEight. Aside from Noddy - it was among the most fun I'd had at an interview, ever.
Now I was going to get to vet the replacement for the Professor. Cool!
Reading through the resumés, however, made me really wonder. Only one of the candidates had UX experience of any kind. Which is weird, because I get that you would get these applicants - I just didn't see how they would make it to a final interview stage.
UXDir flew out to the west coast office to do the interviews along with Sprint, the rest of us videoconferenced into them.
True to form, Noddy's phone rang in the middle of an interview (they always set it on piercingly loud, too). Later in the same interview, they surfed the web in full view of the camera.
That earned us all an admonition to bring no phones or laptops into the remaining interviews.
Next interview? Noddy brought an apple that they proceeded to eat during the interview. To be discrete, though, they sat immediately behind me and ate the apple right behind my head so it wouldn't be seen by the video camera.
Awesome, right?
I learned a lot about interviewing people by watching Sprint and most of our team agreed on who we'd hire and who we wouldn't. UXDir joked that he was thinking of settling down on the west coast - it was so nice, and they'd get to work with Sprint.
It was a good bonding thing.
Next week UXDir is back in the office looking utterly shredded from travel. I stayed out of their way. UXDir's got enough to do and I knew what my punch list was before vacay. No final decision was going to be made before I got back - so I sorted out my priority list and tried to make sure there were no loose screws.
I'm walking out the door "See you in a week"
UXDir "Yeah, if I don't get fired."
????
Okay, I'm terrible at getting UXDir's sarcasm - and they have a wicked sense of humor that I keep mistaking for candor.
"Uh..."
They grin. "Kidding. See you in two weeks. I'm on vacation, 'week after next."
Elevator door closes. Queue vacation montage.
Mountains.
Valleys.
Wildlife.
Crime-ridden, hellscape that is Billings, Montana.
Home.
Exhausted.
I reorient myself with the workflow. BigDog is bogged down in admin stuff, OneTwentyEight is absolutely killing it. Coding up a storm and tackling a particularly thorny custom PDF document to boot.
It has finally occurred to Noddy that performance metrics are being logged. So a flurry of vapor-work is appearing in our tracking app. They are doing something, but again - it is so far down in the priority list, they might have well stayed home.
Now, I might have sympathy for Noddy in this - they are being given the ass-end of project work - but only because no one wants to rely on them to do important work.
Further, were I Noddy - and found myself getting sh!t work - I would slap down some work, get it to RFD and march into my boss's office and demand more and better work.
Not Noddy. Noddy spins their wheels in purgatory like they're in paradise. Yea! Look at me, doing make work while everyone else is so stressed. Why so serious, guys? Huh?
Runner and I are no longer polite to Noddy.
Part of this is my fault. I had this ideal that I would not stoop to denying a fellow UX'er client time. Runner and I had interviews with clients who are testing our Arwafn feature and I just could not see excluding Noddy from them.
On what grounds would I do that, really?
We'd studiously scheduled meetings without Noddy when the entire topic was project work they weren't on - namely, Our work. Those I could stomach. I could look Noddy in the eye and say - "You aren't working on Arwafn - so we figured your time would be better spent on your projects."
I could do that.
But when it came to client contact (the all too rare source of many a good design) I just couldn't stoop that low.
So I invited Noddy.
Runner was just about apoplectic. "What the hell are you thinking? Sprint warned us about this!"
And they had. Told us how Noddy would jump into somebody else's client interview asking drawn out questions from their own agenda - derailing Sprint's carefully constructed interview script and wasting priceless client time.
But I'd sent the invites already. I figured Noddy might not come to all of our interviews. We had like six lined up, he might only go to half - at most.
The week of the first Arwafn interview - Noddy hears Runner and I talking about the setup work we're doing for them and asks "Do you have some interviews coming up? Can I come?"
Now, understand - They would have received invites for at least four interviews by this time. Four. They'd accepted all of them. Which means all of them are on their calendar - or should be.
"Yeah. We have three this week. One next week."
Noddy looks hurt. "Can you forward them to me?"
I. Fricking. Did.
"Sure."
I send all four that I have. Again.
Runner rolls their eyes.
* * * * * *
When we fire up the first Arwafn interview, Noddy is nowhere to be found. Runner and I get things rolling and we have a great interview going and -
Noddy bursts into the room 20 minutes late, and immediately starts offering commentary to Runner - distracting them from facilitating the interview. Runner's taken by surprise, and goes along for awhile. Noddy wants them to look up an online document for them that relates to something that Noddy wants to ask about.
Something that has NOTHING to do with what this interview is going after.
Noddy passes me a note about a question they want to ask. Noddy wants to build a certain feature in Arwafn - and he wants to ask the clients if they would like it.
This is bullshit research. A user who just says they 'like' something hasn't told you anything. They have to say what they would do with it that they couldn't do before. Give me a reason. When you do show and tell, or lead them with a question - you'll often get: 'that'd be nice.' Which doesn't help you understand why they want it.
But more to the point - the thing Noddy is asking about - is something that we've already gotten quality feedback on, fifteen minutes earlier on - when they weren't here. Now they want to waste our interview time so they can be personally caught up.
I head them off and keep to my script. Then Noddy passes me some other notes about other features - features that are nice to haves - when the purpose of the interview is to validate the basic function of Arwafn.
I don't need feedback on these other features - I know the users want them - and if I have time, we will build them for them. But FIRST, we need to know if Arwafn is hitting the mark on the absolute basics.
Noddy's done NONE of the design work, none of the interview setup, none of the legwork, hasn't read the script and shows up late - yet they still want to drive the interview towards their pet questions.
Worse, their pet ideas for Arwafn aren't even their ideas - these are features that are plain as day requests from the market - writ large. In Noddy's mind, however - they are championing a needed feature and Runner and I shutting them down means we are close minded.
The interview ends and Noddy continues to press for these extra bells and whistles. Like Runner and I haven't heard of them. Like we're opposed to them.
We're not. At this point, we just hate Noddy's guts and anything they say - but more professionally - we had research goals for the session and these features aren't part of them.
* * * * *
Incredibly, Noddy repeats their performance at least once more (late, pestering us with BS questions, the whole bit).
Runner is about to stab me in the eye with a pencil, but not before I stab Noddy first.
So. Sick. Of Noddy.
* * * * *
It's been forever - and my thanks to those who have asked after me.
Nerdhaven has been good to me. I've herded some new features into production along with Runner & Sprint. Code was written, users were interviewed, and future iterations are planned.
And I've gotten two vacations since I started. Honest to God take-the-family-someplace-fun vacations.
We saw waterfalls - and buffalo. Someone broke into our car.
Fun was had by all.
We've survived the child care pong of summer - and with school at last beginning - I felt poised to start the final big push to land Arwafn with a full set of features.
Runner and I are joined at the hip these days - and we are going to get this thing done.
Without Noddy.
Because of a date picker. I'll explain.
Runner and I spent a good deal of time sorting through the work pile and looking for what gets spec'ed out next. We're given a truly staggering amount of leeway to do this and neither of us want to tank on this so we start getting micromanaged.
Deliver the goods on time, you get to run your own room. Fail to deliver - and corporate will be all up in your sh!t.
We want to avoid that at all costs. So we're hitting it hard. Problem is, that 'we' only includes two people. Noddy - while on paper assigned to help out with the larger effort that includes Arwafn - pointedly does jack sh!t.
I wish I was exaggerating this, but we log all our work into a web app. I can run activity histories on anyone on the project and the work they contribute to queue. True, a good amount of work is done outside of the app - but any tangible end product must end up there. You might have a gap in a log for awhile, but the gap would end with a flurry of activity when all your offline efforts turned into deliverables. I'm looking at Noddy's activity history and there's a two month gap of nothing.
Nothing. In two months. The gap starts when Noddy copies a set of old stories written by Sensei into a new section of the app. Copy and paste. Then two months of nothing... then three bits of work were slightly edited. Then two more weeks of nothing.
I have watched Noddy sit at their desk and surf Ebay. Now, we all hit the web sometimes at work. Perfectly acceptable, so long as you keep it under control.
Noddy is running a side business selling collectibles - during work hours, on their work machine.
Runner and I tried giving work to Noddy, in the hopes of bringing them around. Every single task we gave them turned into weeks of delay - followed by their asking us to do the work for them.
"Can you look through this? Feel free to edit whatever."
Or, you know, do it for me.
We asked Noddy to do a truly basic piece of UI - select a date range - just to keep them from meddling in the work that mattered. THREE WEEKS later - they return with a fully functioning prototype, delivered in executable file. They demo'ed it to us for feedback and Runner and I were just aghast.
In UX - you don't do this. Not out of the gate. Not without bouncing your early drafts off your colleagues. Because now we have to tell them that their shiny executable is (to put it mildly) horsh!t UI. A huge wedge of screen real estate devoted to a small problem - that could have been addressed with a one day mock up!
Three weeks. True - Runner and I were glad to have the break from Noddy. So long as they had something that was theirs, they would stop leaning over our desks and offering high handed wisdom about what we "should" be doing. So, we let them waste their time instead of ours.
But that was the last bit for me. I have regular check ins with the boss, UXDir and while I'd tried to stay above the fray - I finally lost it.
"What the hell is going on with Noddy?" I detailed our frustrations with getting work out of him - using two specific examples where time and effort were lost waiting for them to produce.
UXDir nodded knowingly and asked "If I get them out of your way, would that help?"
"Absolutely."
UXDir told me neither of us had to involve him in our project work - and that Noddy would be given other assignments.
Sweet!
Freed up from pretending to count on Noddy - or invite them to our meetings. Runner and I settled in to do get stuff done.
Noddy chose some low priority work and basically stayed at the back of the queue. They were working on stuff, they said- but it was so far down on the list it would never get worked on.
Which meant, again, that they did nothing.
Runner and I hurled ourselves into our project work. We would get nothing out of Noddy, but we had two kick-ass devs in BigDog and OneTwentyEight and we were giving them a steady stream of work.
Sh!t. Got. Done.
Over on the west coast, our senior team member, Sprint, was in a similar situation. The Professor had bailed out leaving a huge pile of smoke and mirrors in their wake that Sprint (and Data) would be expected to turn into awesomeness. And they were still crushing it. Sprint is just an incredible person. There's no real way to express my professional admiration for them without coming across as a total dork, so I try not to get in their way and remain pleasant.
I want to be like Sprint. Pair me up with a snobbish, do-nothing, pot-head of a designer - fine. I'll still kick this job's ass. What about that? Oh, they quit? Fine. Less hassle for me.
Sprint works with Data, but being down a UX role in that office is way less than ideal. Sprint has still outproduced Runner and I combined. For months. They rock.
Months you say? Yeah. I hate to pick on the boss, but UXDir is not really quick out of the gate on administration things. Y'know, stuff like standing on laggers' heads - or hiring replacements for folks who left in May.
A few weeks ago - we got invites to participate in panel interviews for replacing the Professor. I'm flattered to be asked. I remember my interview panel: Heater, Noddy, Flyer, UXDir and OneTwentyEight. Aside from Noddy - it was among the most fun I'd had at an interview, ever.
Now I was going to get to vet the replacement for the Professor. Cool!
Reading through the resumés, however, made me really wonder. Only one of the candidates had UX experience of any kind. Which is weird, because I get that you would get these applicants - I just didn't see how they would make it to a final interview stage.
UXDir flew out to the west coast office to do the interviews along with Sprint, the rest of us videoconferenced into them.
True to form, Noddy's phone rang in the middle of an interview (they always set it on piercingly loud, too). Later in the same interview, they surfed the web in full view of the camera.
That earned us all an admonition to bring no phones or laptops into the remaining interviews.
Next interview? Noddy brought an apple that they proceeded to eat during the interview. To be discrete, though, they sat immediately behind me and ate the apple right behind my head so it wouldn't be seen by the video camera.
Awesome, right?
I learned a lot about interviewing people by watching Sprint and most of our team agreed on who we'd hire and who we wouldn't. UXDir joked that he was thinking of settling down on the west coast - it was so nice, and they'd get to work with Sprint.
It was a good bonding thing.
Next week UXDir is back in the office looking utterly shredded from travel. I stayed out of their way. UXDir's got enough to do and I knew what my punch list was before vacay. No final decision was going to be made before I got back - so I sorted out my priority list and tried to make sure there were no loose screws.
I'm walking out the door "See you in a week"
UXDir "Yeah, if I don't get fired."
????
Okay, I'm terrible at getting UXDir's sarcasm - and they have a wicked sense of humor that I keep mistaking for candor.
"Uh..."
They grin. "Kidding. See you in two weeks. I'm on vacation, 'week after next."
Elevator door closes. Queue vacation montage.
Mountains.
Valleys.
Wildlife.
Crime-ridden, hellscape that is Billings, Montana.
Home.
Exhausted.
I reorient myself with the workflow. BigDog is bogged down in admin stuff, OneTwentyEight is absolutely killing it. Coding up a storm and tackling a particularly thorny custom PDF document to boot.
It has finally occurred to Noddy that performance metrics are being logged. So a flurry of vapor-work is appearing in our tracking app. They are doing something, but again - it is so far down in the priority list, they might have well stayed home.
Now, I might have sympathy for Noddy in this - they are being given the ass-end of project work - but only because no one wants to rely on them to do important work.
Further, were I Noddy - and found myself getting sh!t work - I would slap down some work, get it to RFD and march into my boss's office and demand more and better work.
Not Noddy. Noddy spins their wheels in purgatory like they're in paradise. Yea! Look at me, doing make work while everyone else is so stressed. Why so serious, guys? Huh?
Runner and I are no longer polite to Noddy.
Part of this is my fault. I had this ideal that I would not stoop to denying a fellow UX'er client time. Runner and I had interviews with clients who are testing our Arwafn feature and I just could not see excluding Noddy from them.
On what grounds would I do that, really?
We'd studiously scheduled meetings without Noddy when the entire topic was project work they weren't on - namely, Our work. Those I could stomach. I could look Noddy in the eye and say - "You aren't working on Arwafn - so we figured your time would be better spent on your projects."
I could do that.
But when it came to client contact (the all too rare source of many a good design) I just couldn't stoop that low.
So I invited Noddy.
Runner was just about apoplectic. "What the hell are you thinking? Sprint warned us about this!"
And they had. Told us how Noddy would jump into somebody else's client interview asking drawn out questions from their own agenda - derailing Sprint's carefully constructed interview script and wasting priceless client time.
But I'd sent the invites already. I figured Noddy might not come to all of our interviews. We had like six lined up, he might only go to half - at most.
The week of the first Arwafn interview - Noddy hears Runner and I talking about the setup work we're doing for them and asks "Do you have some interviews coming up? Can I come?"
Now, understand - They would have received invites for at least four interviews by this time. Four. They'd accepted all of them. Which means all of them are on their calendar - or should be.
"Yeah. We have three this week. One next week."
Noddy looks hurt. "Can you forward them to me?"
I. Fricking. Did.
"Sure."
I send all four that I have. Again.
Runner rolls their eyes.
* * * * * *
When we fire up the first Arwafn interview, Noddy is nowhere to be found. Runner and I get things rolling and we have a great interview going and -
Noddy bursts into the room 20 minutes late, and immediately starts offering commentary to Runner - distracting them from facilitating the interview. Runner's taken by surprise, and goes along for awhile. Noddy wants them to look up an online document for them that relates to something that Noddy wants to ask about.
Something that has NOTHING to do with what this interview is going after.
Noddy passes me a note about a question they want to ask. Noddy wants to build a certain feature in Arwafn - and he wants to ask the clients if they would like it.
This is bullshit research. A user who just says they 'like' something hasn't told you anything. They have to say what they would do with it that they couldn't do before. Give me a reason. When you do show and tell, or lead them with a question - you'll often get: 'that'd be nice.' Which doesn't help you understand why they want it.
But more to the point - the thing Noddy is asking about - is something that we've already gotten quality feedback on, fifteen minutes earlier on - when they weren't here. Now they want to waste our interview time so they can be personally caught up.
I head them off and keep to my script. Then Noddy passes me some other notes about other features - features that are nice to haves - when the purpose of the interview is to validate the basic function of Arwafn.
I don't need feedback on these other features - I know the users want them - and if I have time, we will build them for them. But FIRST, we need to know if Arwafn is hitting the mark on the absolute basics.
Noddy's done NONE of the design work, none of the interview setup, none of the legwork, hasn't read the script and shows up late - yet they still want to drive the interview towards their pet questions.
Worse, their pet ideas for Arwafn aren't even their ideas - these are features that are plain as day requests from the market - writ large. In Noddy's mind, however - they are championing a needed feature and Runner and I shutting them down means we are close minded.
The interview ends and Noddy continues to press for these extra bells and whistles. Like Runner and I haven't heard of them. Like we're opposed to them.
We're not. At this point, we just hate Noddy's guts and anything they say - but more professionally - we had research goals for the session and these features aren't part of them.
* * * * *
Incredibly, Noddy repeats their performance at least once more (late, pestering us with BS questions, the whole bit).
Runner is about to stab me in the eye with a pencil, but not before I stab Noddy first.
So. Sick. Of Noddy.
* * * * *
Labor Day Weekend.
Sloth. Food. And More Sloth.
First day back promises to be busy. There's a critical prioritization meeting in the afternoon, and a team lunch we won at the company Olympics.
(Told you this place was cool.)
Anyway we start up with the Retro. Agile demands it.
BigDog is running the show - which is odd, because OneTwentyEight was on the signup sheet for leading today. OneTwentyEight's not in yet, which is also odd, because they always like to arrive early and leave early.
BigDog plows through the Retro with all speed, which is good because I've got my regular meeting with UXDir in less than a half an hour. I've been out, they've been out- there's a lot to talk about. I wrote an agenda for crying out loud.
Mid retro- UXDir sends a meeting to all of UX. "Quick Meeting."
I know what you're thinking. Sudden meetings with the boss are bad. But that was CorpWorld. This is Nerdhaven. Runner is thinking the same thing.
"What do you think the meeting is?"
I bluff. "A decision's been made on the new UX hire."
But I know that's not right.
* * * * *
Retro ends and we go into UXDir's office.
They start out with "Candidate 3 has accepted our offer."
Awesome. They were my favorite.
UXDir continues, "...and my last day will be September 17."
And there it is. The answer to that hollow spot that's been floating around them for the past month.
They have been marginalized in their current role. They've been looking for a new challenge and there did not seem to be any good choices for them here at Nerdhaven. Their kids are just starting school - so a move at this point is easier than later. And they've been offered a good opportunity to start a UX team from scratch. They had to....
That old feeling, back again. The Boss leaves, and the team they leave behind feels the world tilt a bit...
...towards the door.
I have my one on one with them immediately afterwards and they go out of their way to assure me that UX is not going anywhere. "It is ingrained in our process here. That's part of why my current role is so limited."
I joke, "Your work here is done."
UXDir laughs. They are such an immensely likable person. I've never had more trouble reading a person I liked so much. I'm constantly mis-communicating with them - yet the are truly inspiring in their role. They've done it all before, and my suggestions always sound stupid to me when I'm talking to them. They let the air out of any procedural bullshit they see - seize on it and hurl it outside before it derails the room.
I've spent a lot of time working for people who don't get UX, and until September 17 of this year - I will be working for a person who makes me feel like I don't get UX at all. I want them to stay. I want to catch up to where they are.
UXDir is a bit of a mess as a manager - but they are an inspired designer.
And they lead from the front.
* * * * *
I'm back in the project room - I think. We rip through the day - Lunch with most of the team. No YQA or OneTwentyEight, but the rest of us have a good time.
Later we get with product, sort our priorities out. Mostly. Product refreshingly doesn't want to deal in the details, but that means sometimes they assume the "obvious" details are being handled. We're meeting to get on the same page.
UXDir and Product come to an agreement. Then I'm off to telecommute from home.
I'm in my easy chair, firing up the VPN and Runner IM's me and we decompress about UXDir's departure means.
I sincerely believe that UX is sound in this shop.
But Noddy.
Noddy scares me. UXDir was never going to can them - but with UXDir gone, there are a few possibilities that are unfolding simultaneously in Runner's mind and mine.
- Nerdhaven hires to replace UXDir, Noddy applies for the job and since they are "Lead UX" some higher up decides they should go with the internal candidate.
- Nerdhaven doesn't hire to replace UXDir. The purely admin duties of managing us go to some other manager with lots of other mouths to feed and the day to day leadership of UX is given to "Lead UX" Noddy.
- Nerdhaven doesn't hire to replace UXDir. UX is left to its own devices and Noddy continues their well established pattern of doing the absolute minimum.
Runner and I are advancing our most likely scenarios going forward - IM'ing back and forth like pessimistic hummingbirds when they stop dead:
OneTwentyEight is in ICU!
What?
Runner explains. OneTwentyEight is a diabetic. They've been admitted with DKA - Diabetic Ketoacidosis. This means that OneTwentyEight's insulin level is low enough that their body has started to eat itself.
OneTwentyEight is not some elderly, overweight person neglecting their health. They are young. Very young. With a disease that will progress in severity over whatever time it is given.
And they are sitting in an ICU - while Runner and I have been fretting over something as stupid as an annoying coworker.
It's hard to express the sentiment that builds up on a good team for me. Most of my life I moved around and left the people I knew behind without much thought.
But I like stable. And I like my team - and I don't want to get too over the top, but they are good people. I want to help them.
I doubt we would hang out outside of work without some pronounced awkwardness - but as a unit we kick major ass. And OneTwentyEight is in real trouble. And there is nothing we can do for them.
I suppose I could stop whining.
...
OneTwentyEight is in ICU!
What?
Runner explains. OneTwentyEight is a diabetic. They've been admitted with DKA - Diabetic Ketoacidosis. This means that OneTwentyEight's insulin level is low enough that their body has started to eat itself.
OneTwentyEight is not some elderly, overweight person neglecting their health. They are young. Very young. With a disease that will progress in severity over whatever time it is given.
And they are sitting in an ICU - while Runner and I have been fretting over something as stupid as an annoying coworker.
It's hard to express the sentiment that builds up on a good team for me. Most of my life I moved around and left the people I knew behind without much thought.
But I like stable. And I like my team - and I don't want to get too over the top, but they are good people. I want to help them.
I doubt we would hang out outside of work without some pronounced awkwardness - but as a unit we kick major ass. And OneTwentyEight is in real trouble. And there is nothing we can do for them.
I suppose I could stop whining.
...
Friday, May 02, 2014
Circular Firing Squad
I'm on the phone with Data, our in-house BI expert - talking about a feature of Arwafn that utterly blew up when we met with the SMEs.
It's not going well.
I've let Data down - again. This seems to be my lot in life. I'm told to move the ball forward, with the understanding that a first attempt will not be perfect - but we will improve as we go.
This is the opposite of what Data wants from me. Data wants me to have all of my sh!t together before I ask them to do their bit.
And I understand this. But UXDirector has given me explicit instructions to not to wait until everything is perfect. UXDirector is tired of waiting for perfect - and they want movement. Now.
They are the boss. So, I do what they say - only to end up utterly letting down Data.
Data has conviction. They are principled. "We cannot fake this. We have to get it right."
And I agree with this. I just believe that we will get it right, after a few revisions. We do not know what we do not know. So we will go forward, take some beatings - and learn.
Data doesn't want to take beatings. Right now, they are dishing them out.
I've often joked that a big part of UX is taking the beatings. So I lean into it until they are done.
"Do you know this stuff? Really know it?" They are talking about Arwafn.
I hedge a bit - which is stupid.
"I don't have it memorized, but I believe I know it."
Data can sniff out BS like a bloodhound. "Because we cannot get this wrong. This has to be right. Customers won't go through the misery of setting this up if they don't see the value."
I'm trapped between two competing design strategies. UXDirector and Data are not on the same page. And there seems to be no way to make them both happy.
Somewhere in the beating Data drops a bomb.
"The Professor is leaving."
What?
The Professor is Data's partner on a big chunk of our current project. They both share the "first, get it right" philosophy of design - and have been collaborating well.
"Yeah, their last day is a week from Friday."
I do the math. It's Wednesday, which means if the Professor gave two weeks notice, the UXDirector has known for two days and has not told anyone.
What the what?
I like the UXDirector. But if they have a major weakness, it is in their communication skills. In person, you will get all you need to know - but only if you seek them out. If you are waiting for a bulletin from them - don't hold your breath. Once, they emailed us the day before they left the office for two weeks. Nobody knew a thing about it. "Bye department, I'll be gone until..."
And now, mum on the departure of a team member.
* * *
Bit of background is in order here: The Professor is someone I have a good deal of professional respect for. They clearly have UX and research chops.
But here's the thing: they flat out suck at working with people like me. I've never had a meeting with the Professor where I didn't feel like I was getting lectured.
Here's what I did... and here's the background on how I approached it and here's the proper technique...and-
"I have a question"
Let's table that for now. Now you can see here that..."
"What is that pattern?"
I would push back on the term 'pattern.' This is clearly an expression of a design language. Now, as I was saying...
And so on.
Hours of this.
We used to refer to some of the meetings with the Professor as "Watch Professor Type." They'd show up with stuff they wanted to show off, and brush off anyone else's material until they'd lovingly walked through every last facet of their design. At which point, any questions or alternate designs were swatted aside until the Professor would conclude that their design had carried the day.
It's just a strawman.
Strawman. They said this so often that it became a joke with Runner, Noddy and I. We actually had a drinking game where each of us would take a drink every time the Professor said the word.
Being in the office the drinks were usually sparkling water, but it made us all smile.
And I don't think the Professor is a bad sort, they just had no idea how to collaborate. At one point I got into an email rant with them about a particular design choice they'd assumed we'd all adopt. I proposed a compromise and - they took me up on it.
The ice was broken - somewhat. And I'd hoped this would be the beginning of better things. The Professor had a good sense of humor and our meetings usually had more than a few good laughs.
So, right after Data tells me the Professor is leaving, they invite me to a technical review of the work Data and the Professor have been doing. This, I consider a win. Data would like me to be there. They would like Runner to be there as well, but not Noddy. As they put it "I don't want them to screw it up."
So, Data and I are on the same page about Noddy. Really, how could we not be? Noddy is a total tool.
Anyway, I go into the tech review and sit back while the Professor launches into another tour of their grand vision.
I've seen this part before - and I'm wondering what the Hell the Professor is up to. A technical review is basically "I want to build this. How many technical hurdles do you see at first blush?"
A rapid description of the features would suffice. But this is the Professor: He begins with his persona research. Then his task patterning. About three more abstract visualizations later, the developers are checking their smartphone email. Then the Professor starts talking about their prototyping tool. How it works, what their initial approach was - the problems they encountered - and why the performance of the tool was currently sub-par.
If the Professor had any empathy for their audience (aside from me, all developers) they would realize that absolutely nobody gave a sh!t about what they were talking about.
Some 45 minutes into the verbal barrage, the Professor finally arrives at showing page mockups and discussing the data requirements. This - devs care about. Questions begin flying in earnest, but there are so many unknowns that the meeting ends 15 minutes later with the devs as mystified about what was required as they were when the meeting began. Eight high-priced developers burned an hour to get a UX theory lecture and walked away with very little new information.
Awesome.
And there was a niggling little detail in the presentation that I couldn't manage to forget. In the past, the Professor hasn't been shy about lacing his documents and communications with snide nicknames for people and things he has little respect for. They'd referred to the Marketing Department's branding guidelines as "the art project" and I suggested we stop calling it that - lest one of these folks get wind of it and take offense. This was my attempt at being diplomatic.
The Professor laughed it off - like it was silly to even worry about it - and just left the term in their documents. And proceeded to forcefully use the term in our subsequent meetings. It struck me as tacky - not a huge deal, but evidence that the Professor didn't easily turn off their scorn.
This is in the back of my mind, when I see the Professor's summation of our UX team's current projects.
Next to the entry for Arwafn - under the column that indicated who was working on it - the Professor had written 'the three Amigos.'
Meaning Runner, Noddy & I. In the eyes of the Professor, we're the three Amigos.
Now, I'd seen this 'cognitive walkthrough' of the Professor's before - only this part hadn't been in the tours I'd seen.
And I wasn't supposed to be in this meeting - Data had invited me at the last minute.
Nice. Way to belittle your peers in front of the Devs.
I mean, Runner and I are making fun of the Professor on a regular basis - we're just not documenting it and showing it to folks outside our team.
Okay. I see how it is.
* * *
So, the Professor is quitting. Taking a job for less pay, because they want to get out. They've tried ("and tried.. and tried" they say) to win UXDirector over to their design philosophy. No traction.
Hmm... maybe it's your delivery.
And they're going to - in their words - "a rockstar shop." So be it. If they find an environment that suits them, they are better off. Frankly, I think we will be, too.
I mean, I've been in a lot of pointless meetings - but the Professor had a way of describing things that they were "going to do" - and then not do them.
This is perhaps the reason that UXDirector is not embracing their design philosophy. Because it is so slow.
* * *
Which still leaves the question as to why the UXDirector hadn't bothered to tell anyone that the Professor is leaving the company. Given the UXDirector's communication style - I can't say this omission carried any special significance. You don't get much from UXDirectory unless you ask for it. Nobody asked them if the Professor was leaving the company - so, they hadn't said.
* * *
So, it's today. I'm still smarting from the week's beatings. I've recently acquired a new set of standards for Arwafn - and I can see it will require changes to its basic function. This will go over with Data like a lead balloon.
I remember Noddy talking about this particular function and find an email from them from March. They are asking about this function based on another document. They email basically everyone on the project to say "look what I've found." Product weighs in and says "make this change." A SME weighs in and says "we must do this."
I remember talking with Noddy about it - I was trying to figure out how big a deal this would be. I had no concept of how big of an issue this was - it seemed like an edge case. I wasn't eager to make changes, but I wasn't opposed to it. And Noddy had been greenlighted by Product.
Noddy does...nothing.
A month later - I'm looking at new specs that tell me I need to make this change
Hooray. I'm looking for ways to break this to them and opt to go to another person in Data's field - Heater. Heater instantly knows what I'm looking for and starts the machinery to make the necessary changes.
Heater is thorough - so they copy the UX team - which means Data. Data is clearly irritated at this new discovery. Clearly I'm not doing my job well - otherwise I'd have known about this.
My attitude is that making fixes as we go forward was always part of the plan. UXDirector has said we'll put our code into an environment and throw actual production data against it to see where the holes are. This strikes me as a great next step.
I've mentioned this to Data and while they are clearly on board with this - test and make improvements. But this new change of mine is still heresy.
*sigh*
UX is all about taking the beatings.
Later, I'll go tell the devs that we'll have to change working code.
Noddy stops by to tell me that he knew this would be a problem, that'd he'd asked for these features a long time ago and "...nothing happened."
Gee, wonder why that was...?
*sigh*
* * *
It's the afternoon. I'm looking at a farewell email from the Professor in amazement.
I've seen my share of awkward goodbye messages - but the Professor's is on a whole new level.
I mean, what do you usually say in a goodbye message? "So long, it's been great. I've learned a lot. Here's my contact info. Keep in touch."
Not the Professor. Their message has something else.
It has a chart.
The Professor is having their last meeting about the style guide. The style guide has been a recurring lecture series where the Professor tells everyone to do what they say.
To be fair, the sessions had improved from the first few sessions - but we hadn't met in recent weeks because we were all too busy.
Now the Professor wanted to have one last session and we couldn't really find a reason to turn them down.
We started out cordial enough. The Professor asked if anyone had some items for the group and I pointed out that everyone else in the room would still be around the following week to discuss things - but if the Professor wanted to say something, they should probably say it now.
"Fair enough," says the Professor - and they proceed to walk us through "their process."
Again.
I've seen this document before. At least three times. And now four. This matters not at all to the Professor and they replay their earlier lecture as if it were hot off the press.
They detail personas and affinity diagrams. And how they "informed their early iterations" and how this led to "an integrated feature set." How meeting with users had allowed them to "move forward with confidence."
At this point, I've had it.
I interrupt. "Are you showing us these things because you think they are new to us?"
I mean seriously, pal. Everyone in this room works in UX. You are talking to us like we are schoolchildren.
AND I - FOR ONE - AM SICK OF IT.
The Professor seems surprised. "No. Not at all."
Then why the F*#k are you lecturing us on this stuff like you've just invented it?
The Professor just wants to share their design philosophy with us, they say. They want to point out how they've managed to do all this research AND still deliver stories in a timely manner.
* * *
Need to step back a bit here - and I appreciate you for hanging in there on this one. It's ramblier than usual because this stuff just happened a few hours ago.
The Professor and Data have been working on their project for as long as Runner and I have been working on Arwafn. We have a number of accepted stories and a bunch of stories Ready for Development. RFD, the coveted status of UXers in our company.
RFD = Devs don't go hungry = points on the board.
And we have stories that are in progress - and more on the way.
The Professor? The one saying they were able to "deliver stories in a timely manner?"
They have zero stories that are RFD.
TWO DAYS AGO, they dropped 40 stories into the queue and got them estimated. This means they are not RFD, not about to be RFD, but about to be worked on so they will eventually become RFD.
And the Professor is leaving in two hours. These stories - whatever they eventually become - will owe precious little to the Professor, since Data and Sprint will be stuck doing the work to actually make them happen.
And quite possibly Runner and me.
Professor? I CALL BULLSHIT.
* * *
So, knowing this - hearing all this, I've stopped being patient and started to call out the competing philosophies in the room. Up front vs as you go.
If I had a choice, from a standing start - with room to breathe - I honestly can't say which of these I would reach for first. Each of them have their advantages.
But there was no choice. UXDirector spelled it out. We are an as-you-go shop. We'll move stuff forward, make mistakes - and then make things better. The Professor has basically ignored this and has gone their own way. UXDirector has let this happen, under the hope/assumption that good stuff will eventually come down the chute. And - to my mind - the Professor has landed a big pile of maybe and is trying to rub our noses in it on the way out.
"I'm frustrated." I say. I point out how I'm told to write a simple story NOW - then make it better. And my reward for that is to drive Data into a near fury.
"I'm not trying to drive you crazy. I'm doing what my boss has expressly told me to do."
And then all kinds of sh!t starts letting go. Data takes issue with my version of RFD. The Professor asserts that our amount of rework will be less than theirs. I'm incredulous.
"You think you won't have rework?"
"Not as much."
The Professor is shoving 40 pigs through the python at once. Or, they would be if they were sticking around to make them RFD. Instead, Sprint and Data will try to make these pieces flow through the system - all interconnected - all co-dependent - and minimize the rework.
Good.
Effing.
Luck.
A lot of the stories are clones of one another, so you build one, you can easily build the other. But if you start them at the same time and one dev finds a problem that another doesn't...?
The devs were saying as much after the tech review. All that interconnectivity being built at the same time ups the risk substantially.
Sprint, bless them, stands up for me. I get the sense that Sprint and UXDirector are on the same page. Sprint lets go with some stuff that had been bottled up for awhile.
And Runner joins in. "We are not an effective team."
And we aren't. Runner nails it. Three of us are in one office and three (soon to be two) are on the coast. We used to have regular meetings as a team and now it's just impromptu phone calls and email.
And stuff gets missed. And then we get angry at...everything.
It's like therapy. Soon people are apologizing and we're agreeing to have regular check ins. Data volunteers to have regular work sessions with Runner and me on Arwafn.
It was horrible and beautiful all at once.
But I'm so glad it happened.
I end up wishing the Professor well - I do hope they are happier in their new shop - but I am glad they are moving on. I suspect I am not alone in that. I want to work in a team and (with the exception of Noddy) everyone else on the UX team is somebody I like and respect.
We just need to get past the awkward and the awful and move forward.
And I think despite - or perhaps because of - the Professor, we took a big first step.
Huzzah!
It's not going well.
I've let Data down - again. This seems to be my lot in life. I'm told to move the ball forward, with the understanding that a first attempt will not be perfect - but we will improve as we go.
This is the opposite of what Data wants from me. Data wants me to have all of my sh!t together before I ask them to do their bit.
And I understand this. But UXDirector has given me explicit instructions to not to wait until everything is perfect. UXDirector is tired of waiting for perfect - and they want movement. Now.
They are the boss. So, I do what they say - only to end up utterly letting down Data.
Data has conviction. They are principled. "We cannot fake this. We have to get it right."
And I agree with this. I just believe that we will get it right, after a few revisions. We do not know what we do not know. So we will go forward, take some beatings - and learn.
Data doesn't want to take beatings. Right now, they are dishing them out.
I've often joked that a big part of UX is taking the beatings. So I lean into it until they are done.
"Do you know this stuff? Really know it?" They are talking about Arwafn.
I hedge a bit - which is stupid.
"I don't have it memorized, but I believe I know it."
Data can sniff out BS like a bloodhound. "Because we cannot get this wrong. This has to be right. Customers won't go through the misery of setting this up if they don't see the value."
I'm trapped between two competing design strategies. UXDirector and Data are not on the same page. And there seems to be no way to make them both happy.
Somewhere in the beating Data drops a bomb.
"The Professor is leaving."
What?
The Professor is Data's partner on a big chunk of our current project. They both share the "first, get it right" philosophy of design - and have been collaborating well.
"Yeah, their last day is a week from Friday."
I do the math. It's Wednesday, which means if the Professor gave two weeks notice, the UXDirector has known for two days and has not told anyone.
What the what?
I like the UXDirector. But if they have a major weakness, it is in their communication skills. In person, you will get all you need to know - but only if you seek them out. If you are waiting for a bulletin from them - don't hold your breath. Once, they emailed us the day before they left the office for two weeks. Nobody knew a thing about it. "Bye department, I'll be gone until..."
And now, mum on the departure of a team member.
* * *
Bit of background is in order here: The Professor is someone I have a good deal of professional respect for. They clearly have UX and research chops.
But here's the thing: they flat out suck at working with people like me. I've never had a meeting with the Professor where I didn't feel like I was getting lectured.
Here's what I did... and here's the background on how I approached it and here's the proper technique...and-
"I have a question"
Let's table that for now. Now you can see here that..."
"What is that pattern?"
I would push back on the term 'pattern.' This is clearly an expression of a design language. Now, as I was saying...
And so on.
Hours of this.
We used to refer to some of the meetings with the Professor as "Watch Professor Type." They'd show up with stuff they wanted to show off, and brush off anyone else's material until they'd lovingly walked through every last facet of their design. At which point, any questions or alternate designs were swatted aside until the Professor would conclude that their design had carried the day.
It's just a strawman.
Strawman. They said this so often that it became a joke with Runner, Noddy and I. We actually had a drinking game where each of us would take a drink every time the Professor said the word.
Being in the office the drinks were usually sparkling water, but it made us all smile.
And I don't think the Professor is a bad sort, they just had no idea how to collaborate. At one point I got into an email rant with them about a particular design choice they'd assumed we'd all adopt. I proposed a compromise and - they took me up on it.
The ice was broken - somewhat. And I'd hoped this would be the beginning of better things. The Professor had a good sense of humor and our meetings usually had more than a few good laughs.
So, right after Data tells me the Professor is leaving, they invite me to a technical review of the work Data and the Professor have been doing. This, I consider a win. Data would like me to be there. They would like Runner to be there as well, but not Noddy. As they put it "I don't want them to screw it up."
So, Data and I are on the same page about Noddy. Really, how could we not be? Noddy is a total tool.
Anyway, I go into the tech review and sit back while the Professor launches into another tour of their grand vision.
I've seen this part before - and I'm wondering what the Hell the Professor is up to. A technical review is basically "I want to build this. How many technical hurdles do you see at first blush?"
A rapid description of the features would suffice. But this is the Professor: He begins with his persona research. Then his task patterning. About three more abstract visualizations later, the developers are checking their smartphone email. Then the Professor starts talking about their prototyping tool. How it works, what their initial approach was - the problems they encountered - and why the performance of the tool was currently sub-par.
If the Professor had any empathy for their audience (aside from me, all developers) they would realize that absolutely nobody gave a sh!t about what they were talking about.
Some 45 minutes into the verbal barrage, the Professor finally arrives at showing page mockups and discussing the data requirements. This - devs care about. Questions begin flying in earnest, but there are so many unknowns that the meeting ends 15 minutes later with the devs as mystified about what was required as they were when the meeting began. Eight high-priced developers burned an hour to get a UX theory lecture and walked away with very little new information.
Awesome.
And there was a niggling little detail in the presentation that I couldn't manage to forget. In the past, the Professor hasn't been shy about lacing his documents and communications with snide nicknames for people and things he has little respect for. They'd referred to the Marketing Department's branding guidelines as "the art project" and I suggested we stop calling it that - lest one of these folks get wind of it and take offense. This was my attempt at being diplomatic.
The Professor laughed it off - like it was silly to even worry about it - and just left the term in their documents. And proceeded to forcefully use the term in our subsequent meetings. It struck me as tacky - not a huge deal, but evidence that the Professor didn't easily turn off their scorn.
This is in the back of my mind, when I see the Professor's summation of our UX team's current projects.
Next to the entry for Arwafn - under the column that indicated who was working on it - the Professor had written 'the three Amigos.'
Meaning Runner, Noddy & I. In the eyes of the Professor, we're the three Amigos.
Now, I'd seen this 'cognitive walkthrough' of the Professor's before - only this part hadn't been in the tours I'd seen.
And I wasn't supposed to be in this meeting - Data had invited me at the last minute.
Nice. Way to belittle your peers in front of the Devs.
I mean, Runner and I are making fun of the Professor on a regular basis - we're just not documenting it and showing it to folks outside our team.
Okay. I see how it is.
* * *
So, the Professor is quitting. Taking a job for less pay, because they want to get out. They've tried ("and tried.. and tried" they say) to win UXDirector over to their design philosophy. No traction.
Hmm... maybe it's your delivery.
And they're going to - in their words - "a rockstar shop." So be it. If they find an environment that suits them, they are better off. Frankly, I think we will be, too.
I mean, I've been in a lot of pointless meetings - but the Professor had a way of describing things that they were "going to do" - and then not do them.
This is perhaps the reason that UXDirector is not embracing their design philosophy. Because it is so slow.
* * *
Which still leaves the question as to why the UXDirector hadn't bothered to tell anyone that the Professor is leaving the company. Given the UXDirector's communication style - I can't say this omission carried any special significance. You don't get much from UXDirectory unless you ask for it. Nobody asked them if the Professor was leaving the company - so, they hadn't said.
* * *
So, it's today. I'm still smarting from the week's beatings. I've recently acquired a new set of standards for Arwafn - and I can see it will require changes to its basic function. This will go over with Data like a lead balloon.
I remember Noddy talking about this particular function and find an email from them from March. They are asking about this function based on another document. They email basically everyone on the project to say "look what I've found." Product weighs in and says "make this change." A SME weighs in and says "we must do this."
I remember talking with Noddy about it - I was trying to figure out how big a deal this would be. I had no concept of how big of an issue this was - it seemed like an edge case. I wasn't eager to make changes, but I wasn't opposed to it. And Noddy had been greenlighted by Product.
Noddy does...nothing.
A month later - I'm looking at new specs that tell me I need to make this change
Hooray. I'm looking for ways to break this to them and opt to go to another person in Data's field - Heater. Heater instantly knows what I'm looking for and starts the machinery to make the necessary changes.
Heater is thorough - so they copy the UX team - which means Data. Data is clearly irritated at this new discovery. Clearly I'm not doing my job well - otherwise I'd have known about this.
My attitude is that making fixes as we go forward was always part of the plan. UXDirector has said we'll put our code into an environment and throw actual production data against it to see where the holes are. This strikes me as a great next step.
I've mentioned this to Data and while they are clearly on board with this - test and make improvements. But this new change of mine is still heresy.
*sigh*
UX is all about taking the beatings.
Later, I'll go tell the devs that we'll have to change working code.
Noddy stops by to tell me that he knew this would be a problem, that'd he'd asked for these features a long time ago and "...nothing happened."
Gee, wonder why that was...?
*sigh*
* * *
It's the afternoon. I'm looking at a farewell email from the Professor in amazement.
I've seen my share of awkward goodbye messages - but the Professor's is on a whole new level.
I mean, what do you usually say in a goodbye message? "So long, it's been great. I've learned a lot. Here's my contact info. Keep in touch."
Not the Professor. Their message has something else.
It has a chart.
A timeline illustrating the projects the Professor has been involved in - what the goals were - and the (Totally awesome) success each of them ended with. There are at least three swim lanes in the data table and...
...skip it. It was ridiculous. A victory lap for someone who saw their every action as triumph.
I'm deleting it when I remember that I have another meeting with them.
The Professor is having their last meeting about the style guide. The style guide has been a recurring lecture series where the Professor tells everyone to do what they say.
To be fair, the sessions had improved from the first few sessions - but we hadn't met in recent weeks because we were all too busy.
Now the Professor wanted to have one last session and we couldn't really find a reason to turn them down.
We started out cordial enough. The Professor asked if anyone had some items for the group and I pointed out that everyone else in the room would still be around the following week to discuss things - but if the Professor wanted to say something, they should probably say it now.
"Fair enough," says the Professor - and they proceed to walk us through "their process."
Again.
I've seen this document before. At least three times. And now four. This matters not at all to the Professor and they replay their earlier lecture as if it were hot off the press.
They detail personas and affinity diagrams. And how they "informed their early iterations" and how this led to "an integrated feature set." How meeting with users had allowed them to "move forward with confidence."
At this point, I've had it.
I interrupt. "Are you showing us these things because you think they are new to us?"
I mean seriously, pal. Everyone in this room works in UX. You are talking to us like we are schoolchildren.
AND I - FOR ONE - AM SICK OF IT.
The Professor seems surprised. "No. Not at all."
Then why the F*#k are you lecturing us on this stuff like you've just invented it?
The Professor just wants to share their design philosophy with us, they say. They want to point out how they've managed to do all this research AND still deliver stories in a timely manner.
* * *
Need to step back a bit here - and I appreciate you for hanging in there on this one. It's ramblier than usual because this stuff just happened a few hours ago.
The Professor and Data have been working on their project for as long as Runner and I have been working on Arwafn. We have a number of accepted stories and a bunch of stories Ready for Development. RFD, the coveted status of UXers in our company.
RFD = Devs don't go hungry = points on the board.
And we have stories that are in progress - and more on the way.
The Professor? The one saying they were able to "deliver stories in a timely manner?"
They have zero stories that are RFD.
TWO DAYS AGO, they dropped 40 stories into the queue and got them estimated. This means they are not RFD, not about to be RFD, but about to be worked on so they will eventually become RFD.
And the Professor is leaving in two hours. These stories - whatever they eventually become - will owe precious little to the Professor, since Data and Sprint will be stuck doing the work to actually make them happen.
And quite possibly Runner and me.
Professor? I CALL BULLSHIT.
* * *
So, knowing this - hearing all this, I've stopped being patient and started to call out the competing philosophies in the room. Up front vs as you go.
If I had a choice, from a standing start - with room to breathe - I honestly can't say which of these I would reach for first. Each of them have their advantages.
But there was no choice. UXDirector spelled it out. We are an as-you-go shop. We'll move stuff forward, make mistakes - and then make things better. The Professor has basically ignored this and has gone their own way. UXDirector has let this happen, under the hope/assumption that good stuff will eventually come down the chute. And - to my mind - the Professor has landed a big pile of maybe and is trying to rub our noses in it on the way out.
"I'm frustrated." I say. I point out how I'm told to write a simple story NOW - then make it better. And my reward for that is to drive Data into a near fury.
"I'm not trying to drive you crazy. I'm doing what my boss has expressly told me to do."
And then all kinds of sh!t starts letting go. Data takes issue with my version of RFD. The Professor asserts that our amount of rework will be less than theirs. I'm incredulous.
"You think you won't have rework?"
"Not as much."
The Professor is shoving 40 pigs through the python at once. Or, they would be if they were sticking around to make them RFD. Instead, Sprint and Data will try to make these pieces flow through the system - all interconnected - all co-dependent - and minimize the rework.
Good.
Effing.
Luck.
A lot of the stories are clones of one another, so you build one, you can easily build the other. But if you start them at the same time and one dev finds a problem that another doesn't...?
The devs were saying as much after the tech review. All that interconnectivity being built at the same time ups the risk substantially.
Sprint, bless them, stands up for me. I get the sense that Sprint and UXDirector are on the same page. Sprint lets go with some stuff that had been bottled up for awhile.
And Runner joins in. "We are not an effective team."
And we aren't. Runner nails it. Three of us are in one office and three (soon to be two) are on the coast. We used to have regular meetings as a team and now it's just impromptu phone calls and email.
And stuff gets missed. And then we get angry at...everything.
It's like therapy. Soon people are apologizing and we're agreeing to have regular check ins. Data volunteers to have regular work sessions with Runner and me on Arwafn.
It was horrible and beautiful all at once.
But I'm so glad it happened.
I end up wishing the Professor well - I do hope they are happier in their new shop - but I am glad they are moving on. I suspect I am not alone in that. I want to work in a team and (with the exception of Noddy) everyone else on the UX team is somebody I like and respect.
We just need to get past the awkward and the awful and move forward.
And I think despite - or perhaps because of - the Professor, we took a big first step.
Huzzah!
Monday, April 07, 2014
Another Letter
Round two came back in the mail after only three days. I was rushing out the door, and almost missed it. I'd sent out maybe a dozen or so documents and, lo and behold, back came an envelope containing a dozen or so sheets of paper.
I chucked the rest of the mail on the couch, balanced my bag on the handrail - and ripped it open. It had a cover letter. One hand reaching for my keys, I looked for the check box.
But there wasn't one. This was a genuine letter, signed even. It said "Enclosed are the documents you requested."
I'm halfway out of the house, swinging the door closed, reading-
George _________ - Born March 20, 1887.
Hospitalized: August 31, 1921 - April 17, 1923.
There it was, in black and white. I sat down on the porch and began reading.
It was not a happy story.
It began with interview notes. In them, the patient is described as a common laborer. In the blank next to "education," the doctor has entered - "not much." The patient is asked a series of questions about the world around him; He knows who the president is, he knows that the Mississippi is the largest river in the US, and so on.
He doesn't know why he's here. He knows he owns his own house; he's had trouble with his wife over the children. He did threaten to kill her, but he didn't mean it. He thinks his wife doesn't care for him, that she might be unfaithful. She's been saying things, you see.
The diagnosis is brief.
The other documents were a chronology of patient behavior and disposition. Every month or so, the patient gets three or more lines of text.
Lines like:
...patient does no work...
...sits and stares into space...
...wanders the ward aimlessly...
...dull and stupid.
The last entries record a change in demeanor: the patient has "a high opinion of himself" and occasionally attacks staff. The final entry has an almost exasperated tone:
Transferred by order of the Board of Control. Condition unimproved
If there is more to be had, I'll find it.
Tuesday, April 01, 2014
I am Weasel
Runner [3:29 PM]: just feeling a bit grumpy today
murph [3:30 PM]: whazzup?
Runner [3:31 PM]: oh the earlier stuff with our buddy
murph [3:31 PM]: Yeah, that's totally shitty
Runner [3:31 PM]: did you talk with him?
murph [3:32 PM]: I did.
Caution.
This will not help your mood
Runner [3:32 PM]: OK
give it to me
murph [3:33 PM]: He basically said all the things he should of said to the SMEs, but didnt'.
He thinks he was taking the bullet in the call and in his discussion with BigDog.
I do not think that is so.
He believes that he went through the stories with you to find ones that were ready for dev.
I made him repeat that.
Basically doubling down on the line of bullshit
I just....
I mean WT screaming hell?
Runner [3:36 PM]: so I take the bullet for it
murph [3:36 PM]: I went after that. "So now, the SMEs are going to think this is on Runner?"
He's like "No, I took the bullet for this."
I did not get that out of his conversation on Friday at all.
Runner [3:37 PM]: did you mention that?
murph [3:37 PM]: I did not. I sat there like a tool.
I could not believe his shit and I did nothing about it.
Which does not help.
Runner [3:38 PM]: well whatever it is done
I learned a valuable lesson
murph [3:38 PM]: Noddy is a weasel. And I'm not much help.
Runner [3:39 PM]: well you don't want to get too involved in this
I think people know that, right?
murph [3:39 PM]: No, Runner I let you down in there. Same as Friday.
I just could not believe how far down the rabbit hole he was going.
I just sat there.
I made sure I wasn't mis-hearing him but I didn't call him out.
Which is shit.
And I'm sorry, but I'll do better. This can't be how it goes.
Runner [3:41 PM]: don't worry about it
sounds like this isn
this isn't the first time it's happened
and really it's my fault for letting it happen
murph [3:42 PM]: No, letting it happen is on me, too. And I should not let this roll like that.
Runner [3:42 PM]: and truth be told, I probably shouldn't have written up those stories without combining everything and getting it all in there
murph [3:43 PM]: That's gonna be a thing, for sure for all of us.
Anyway, Runner - I'm sorry I didn't pounce on him. I was all pissed off, and then I got nowhere with him.
I don't think I can fix the overall situation, but Noddy should know that he's in the wrong.
I don't want the drama, but I hate the unfair.
Runner [3:45 PM]: well lesson learned is that we can't just move stories ready for dev unless we vet them
murph [3:45 PM]: Yeah. Totally
And we don't move stories that aren't ours.
Runner [3:47 PM]: yep
murph [3:47 PM]: See. Told you it wouldn't improve your mood.
Runner [3:47 PM]: I was expecting that really
murph [3:30 PM]: whazzup?
Runner [3:31 PM]: oh the earlier stuff with our buddy
murph [3:31 PM]: Yeah, that's totally shitty
Runner [3:31 PM]: did you talk with him?
murph [3:32 PM]: I did.
Caution.
This will not help your mood
Runner [3:32 PM]: OK
give it to me
murph [3:33 PM]: He basically said all the things he should of said to the SMEs, but didnt'.
He thinks he was taking the bullet in the call and in his discussion with BigDog.
I do not think that is so.
He believes that he went through the stories with you to find ones that were ready for dev.
I made him repeat that.
Basically doubling down on the line of bullshit
I just....
I mean WT screaming hell?
Runner [3:36 PM]: so I take the bullet for it
murph [3:36 PM]: I went after that. "So now, the SMEs are going to think this is on Runner?"
He's like "No, I took the bullet for this."
I did not get that out of his conversation on Friday at all.
Runner [3:37 PM]: did you mention that?
murph [3:37 PM]: I did not. I sat there like a tool.
I could not believe his shit and I did nothing about it.
Which does not help.
Runner [3:38 PM]: well whatever it is done
I learned a valuable lesson
murph [3:38 PM]: Noddy is a weasel. And I'm not much help.
Runner [3:39 PM]: well you don't want to get too involved in this
I think people know that, right?
murph [3:39 PM]: No, Runner I let you down in there. Same as Friday.
I just could not believe how far down the rabbit hole he was going.
I just sat there.
I made sure I wasn't mis-hearing him but I didn't call him out.
Which is shit.
And I'm sorry, but I'll do better. This can't be how it goes.
Runner [3:41 PM]: don't worry about it
sounds like this isn
this isn't the first time it's happened
and really it's my fault for letting it happen
murph [3:42 PM]: No, letting it happen is on me, too. And I should not let this roll like that.
Runner [3:42 PM]: and truth be told, I probably shouldn't have written up those stories without combining everything and getting it all in there
murph [3:43 PM]: That's gonna be a thing, for sure for all of us.
Anyway, Runner - I'm sorry I didn't pounce on him. I was all pissed off, and then I got nowhere with him.
I don't think I can fix the overall situation, but Noddy should know that he's in the wrong.
I don't want the drama, but I hate the unfair.
Runner [3:45 PM]: well lesson learned is that we can't just move stories ready for dev unless we vet them
murph [3:45 PM]: Yeah. Totally
And we don't move stories that aren't ours.
Runner [3:47 PM]: yep
murph [3:47 PM]: See. Told you it wouldn't improve your mood.
Runner [3:47 PM]: I was expecting that really
Monday, March 31, 2014
One Small Box
I don't know exactly what I expected to find when I started chasing after my great grandfather, but it wasn't this.
I was hot on the trail.
As it happened, there is a facility with that name right where I live (what luck). All the documentation I needed practically fell into my lap. All I needed to do was write a letter and ask them to send me everything they had on my great grandfather. This was going to be a fairly straightforward case.
So be it. If the hunt was to be easy - there was still the anticipation of what I would discover - what they would send me.
Here's how I pictured it:
I would wait a few days, then weeks, and then about the time I'd forgotten about ever making the request, it would arrive.
In my imagination, it would be a small, well-worn box. It would have a few dusty photographs of people I'd never met, maybe a book or two written in Russian, and (best of all) official documentation of my great-grandfather's confinement. There would be a certain amount of finality to it, but with enough leads to take me to new mysteries - if I was interested.
That's what I expected, but then - Hollywood has really done a number on my generation.
What I did get was a letter. In it was the request and supporting documentation I'd sent them - they were sending it back. They'd attached a cover sheet with four lines of text on it. Each line was next to a check box.
One of these boxes was checked. It said:
Our files have been carefully checked and we are unable to determine that the patient was ever seen at [our facility]
So much for round one. Round two is in the mail, and I've queued up round three. Mysteries be damned, I just hate to lose.
I'm still on the trail.
Friday, March 28, 2014
Accent on the 'We'
Okay, Great Grandpa George is gonna have to wait.
I'm gonna let go with some sh!t.
I'm gonna let go with some sh!t.
And I want to start this off by saying that my current job is - by far - the best job I have ever had. Challenging work, a noble cause, outstanding UX support, and free coffee.
I'd also like to say I've been there long enough to say this isn't a case of being in love with the honeymoon.
I work on a team stocked with rockstars. These are people worth going to the mat for.
My UX role is backed up by management. I own the problem, study it, design a solution - and then my devs build it.
Note the curious absence of corporate bullsh!t
As I said, It's a killer UX job.
But I am now going to hurl a co-worker under the bus.
...because they so effing deserve it.
Back when I interviewed for this job, the only sub-awesome bit was the UX guy. A veteran designer, but clearly somebody who thought an awful lot of themselves.
This post is about them.
Let's call them Noddy.
Over two months ago, the UX director called us into a room and asked each of us to take one of the many projects on Product's to-do list. Immediately after doing this, they informed me that I would be working on a report with a funny name.
The UX director has a way of doing this. I think it's their way of cutting the crap.
Fair enough. At the time, it's not like I would have known enough to make an informed choice - so they chose for me.
UXDir then drove the point home by asking "What do you know about [A Report With A Funny Name]?"
Having decided to be honest at this job, I said, "If I think about it awhile, I might be able to spell it. ARWAFN."
UXDir grinned.
Okay, we're all friends here.
The rest of the UX team got their marching orders. Noddy got a pair of reports, Sprint and WatchMeType already had serious project work - which they kept, and Runner got the dashboard that held all the reports.
Work these problems.
So, off we went. And I spent a pornographic amount of time learning about Arwafn. What it is, what it does, why people use it, how people use it.
In all former lives, this luxury of time was unheard of. You need to be done two weeks ago. Go.
At Nerdhaven, so long as the devs had stuff do, you could take the time you needed to solve your problem.
Awesome!
We all plunged into our assignments and started ramping up.
In the meantime, Noddy was still keeping our devs busy by giving them features and fixes so they had stuff to do - AND they had to work their reports.
Sprint and the Professor kept their devs working on their project work.
All was well.
I started writing up things for our devs to do, a lot of Arwafn was stuff people had been asking for for ages, so writing requirements for it was a lot like transcribing our customer's broken dreams.
For the love of God, give us an Arwafn that works!
Doesn't take a genius to write specs for that feature.
1) Make an Arwafn report that works.
2) Also, make it not suck.
I write these up - give it to the devs, aaaaand - they pause.
They hem. They haw.
The existing Arwafn is not in our code base.
Ramping up for my Arwafn work will take time. They will do it, but all my work is the same to them: Stuff they cannot start now.
The Devs are hungry for work, and my stuff doesn't help them. Runner's still ramping up to make stuff, Noddy's stuff is all they have.
And... Noddy's stuff is pretty thin gruel.
I mean, we work in two week sprints, so you don't give a dev a slab of work that takes more than fourteen days. But still...
Noddy writes up stuff like "add a value to a dropdown menu," or "change this text label." These are things that need to be done, but if I was writing up the work, I'd do a bunch in an afternoon and move on to real work.
I'm sure the devs think of them the same way. Developing even simple things takes longer than you'd think - particularly if you do it well, and our Devs are awesome. So, I can't help but think they are uninspired by the work they are getting.
But Noddy's the only one giving them stuff they can do, and they're on two other projects. Runner and I need to step up.
Runner connects with our Subject Matter Experts, and starts getting a list of things that need to get better in report-land. This is something I'm bad at as a noob. I have all kinds of research materials at my disposal, my first inclination is to use them - not schedule a conference call.
Runner does the right thing - they get the SME's on the phone and Noddy shows us the ropes on Nerdhaven's version of virtual meetings.
Aside: Virtual meetings suuuuuuuuuck.
But Noddy shows us how to record our sessions so we don't miss stuff, and facilitates the introductions to the SMEs and generally gets us rolling. I spend the entire call waiting for someone to talk about Arwafn, and I don't think anyone did.
Afterwords, Runner reviews the recording and writes up a summary/partial transcript with timestamps. At the time we're both looking for guidance for what we should be doing and Runner's wondering if they're wasting their time with the transcript. They send it to me and Noddy for review and I forward my edits.
Noddy never forwards any edits. To Noddy, this is a waste of time.
I believe this is not a waste of time.
We had a session full of good info, but all of it was stored in our fragmented memories - and a video recording.
Months from now, when someone asks what we came up with in the meeting, we'll all have forgotten the call and we'll be left with the video.
A two hour video.
PRO TIP: You cannot skim video.
If we wanted to know what was in that file, it would take 2 hours. And if we didn't write anything down when we watched it, we'd have the same problem a month later.
This, I learned, from Sensei.
Sensei wrote up notes on some conference calls that saved me a ton of time. A summary I can skim and learn "This two hour video is all about reports." If I want more, I can read in detail, or (last resort) watch the video.
Moral: Write the damn notes. If you never find a use for them, someone will.
Also: Thanks, Sensei.
Anyway, our Devs are starving for work. Our team lead, BigDog, is trying to be patient, but wants us to give his devs work.
Soon.
I write up more stuff for Arwafn. Because it's what I've been told to do. The other UX folks are going to land stuff soon, and after those are done - the devs can take my stuff.
Noddy lands a few more appetizers, but nothing resembling real work. The devs sigh, but when all you have is fritos, you eat the fritos.
Fast forward a sprint.
We're reviewing work for the devs and I proudly call up my specs for more Arwafn stuff. BigDog is straining to be nice, but they can't eat Arwafn yet. I've got a seven course meal of inedible.
I feel like I've let the BigDog down. I go to UXDir and ask if there are things I can give our devs to work on that they can do right now. They aren't on our goal list, but there are literally a *ton* of things we could improve in our UI.
UXDir is polite, but firm. "No."
Noddy is no help. This time around, they don't even have appetizers.
What we end up with is pretty much a typo correction: Remove Reports 1 & 2.
What we end up with is pretty much a typo correction: Remove Reports 1 & 2.
Dead simple features. Not even features, really. Delete some things. Whoo...
Dev's gotta eat...
So, we're deleting Reports 1 & 2. Maybe a hour of code time for each. Twice that to make sure nothing else got broken in the process.
But it's a joke of an iteration. Devs are meeting to figure out how to spool up for Arwafn work and a bunch of other things we have in the pipeline - but when we show our clients what we've been doing lately, we should expect a yawn.
At Nerdhaven, we do Agile - and Agile means you stand in front of your work and show your clients what you've been up to. When you land big slabs of awesome, you and your team look awesome.
When you take a bow in front of a heap of nothing - you and your team look stupid.
Agile is about forcing that realization upon people and using it as motivation.
We don't want to look stupid, ergo, we will get our sh!t together.
We don't want to look stupid, ergo, we will get our sh!t together.
Yesterday, we took our bow in front of nothing. Noddy was the MC, and tried to put the best spin on it they could. "We'll have you out of here in two minutes, end to end."
Noddy shows the clients that - in the past two weeks - a room of highly-paid professionals has succeeded in deleting two reports.
And then things go wrong. And not in the way you'd think they would. Our SMEs are on the conference call asking why in the hell we've deleted Reports 1 & 2.
Noddy's ready with the pat answer, "Reports 1 & 2 have been replaced by newer reports and are no longer needed."
I vaguely remember this, and something about having never removed the old reports. We were just fixing this. Why was this a question?
I'm almost relieved no one is giving us the business about the scant offerings, but the SMEs aren't done.
"Reports 1 & 2 have functionality that do not exist in the newer reports. Why did you get rid of them?"
Noddy mentions the earlier meeting with the SMEs about reports. "We'd agreed we could get rid of these reports. But if you need them back, we can certainly roll back the changes."
QA weighs in - Reports 1 & 2 have some benchmarks that are unique.
This is news to Noddy.
This is news to me - I paid no attention to these stories. I'm the Arwafn guy. I know nothing about Reports 1 & 2.
All three UXers in the room look dumbfounded.
In front of the clients.
Awesome.
Noddy assures everyone that the SMEs had agreed to this change, but we can revisit the decision.
We end the meeting promising to follow up with the SMEs.
Back in the room. BigDog has had it. He gives Noddy an earful "I can accept that the reports need to come back, I can accept that we made a mistake. What I can't accept is that we're at showcase and DON'T KNOW WHY WE DID THIS WORK?"
There is no argument. BigDog is completely right. We work up ways to check on this sort of thing. The SMEs have changed their minds since we talked - and now they want their report back. We should be ready to confront them with evidence of their reversal. We should not sit silent while they ask why we did what they asked.
Product shows up and catches the tail end of BigDog's rant. Product is clearly displeased that the SMEs are pointing us in different directions.
Product is clear: Sort this out.
Later that day. Runner and I are hashing out what happened. Runner points out that removing Reports 1 & 2 was their feature, but Noddy pushed it to the devs. Runner is just sick that people think they pushed bad work.
Runner had some doubts about it, but Noddy said it was ready. So it went.
It was a simple task: Remove Reports 1 & 2. Not like there was a lot to review.
But Runner's pointing out there was a whole meeting about those reports. And it was recorded. And Runner transcribed it.
The SMEs asking questions today has Runner remembering that we were supposed to migrate stuff out of Reports 1 & 2 before we blew them away.
Runner's worried. BigDog is pissed - and BigDog knows this feature was written by Runner. And we all should have caught this, but Noddy shouldn't have given Runner's story to the devs.
I tell Runner I'll talk to BigDog. If this story comes from Runner, it's going to sound like Runner's shirking blame. Runner's not like that, but they don't want soak up all the fail on this.
I talk to BigDog and lay it out. This is a UX fail, not a dev fail - but Noddy moved somebody else's work without knowing it was ready. We should have stopped them, but no way this is Runner's thing.
BigDog nods like I'm telling him something he already knows.
Today.
I'm rolling in around noon - little e was sick - and I meet Noddy in the hall.
They're like "That call with the SME's on the reports, that was recorded?" Or words to that effect. I was out of it. But it was odd that they were asking about this, first thing, in the hall.
I'm like, "Yeah. We recorded it."
Noddy starts talking about it being a two hour recording, and grumbling about how hard it would be to listen to the whole thing. They said something like they'd started to, but it was just too much of a pain...
I kill that noise.
"You could just read the transcript." I am so glad I talked with Runner yesterday. "Runner wrote the whole thing up and sent it around for edits, remember?" I bet you don't.
Noddy leaves and I hit my desk.
BigDog is on me soon as I get my coat off. He wants to know the details on the Report discussion we had with the SMEs.
This is a thing.
I find the transcript, CTRL-F for the report names.
It is dead obvious that the SMEs are right. The transcript has them asking us to move the features out of Reports 1 & 2 and afterwards we can delete them.
Five seconds to the answer.
I spend five minutes scrubbing to the matching part of the video file to listen and make certain.
Noddy told them they'd agreed to remove the Reports.
He was mistaken, or he lied.
I give the information to BigDog who begins digging into it immediately.
The day is a blur of catching up from missing the morning, but finally we arrive at the moment that made me write this.
I'm talking to BigDog after a long meeting with Runner. Noddy's talking to one of the SMEs on the phone.
He's saying "Well, we had a new BA."
I'm like: No way I heard that right.
BigDog and I are cross talking about something funny. BigDog is either hilarious or fascinating on pretty much any subject he wants to be.
I'm trying to keep up with him, but I keep hearing Noddy's cross talk.
Noddy is blaming Runner.
I sit straight up and look right at Noddy, but it has no effect. Noddy wraps it up and before I can think to say anything, BigDog is all over Noddy.
"I heard you talking to the SME, and you said some things that were not true."
BigDog's been tracking the conversation longer than I have and he's going after what Noddy told the SMEs in our showcase.
Noddy starts out with his "its in a two hour recording-"
BigDog takes him out at the knees. "I've read the transcript. I listened to the 20 minutes where you were discussing these reports."
Noddy keeps weaving, shifts to saying it was Runner's story.
BigDog calls up the audit trail. "You pushed it to 'ready for dev.' There's your name, right there."
And finally, Noddy shifts to the position he should have started with - shared blame.
"We missed it."
Which is just another floor down in Noddy's house of bullsh!t, but closer to a professional truth. UX gave Dev specs that should not have been coded.
Which is just another floor down in Noddy's house of bullsh!t, but closer to a professional truth. UX gave Dev specs that should not have been coded.
At this point, I should pile on with BigDog, stick a fork in Noddy.
But I don't.
BigDog did the right thing, the hard thing. He stuck it to Noddy over the BS line to the SMEs.
About pretending it was all on Runner.
I did the easy thing. Said something magnanimous about making sure any new features pushed to dev have been agreed on by UX. But that's shit. Noddy was part of a mistake the team had to eat. Instead of owning up to that, he tried to lie his way out of it, then blame it on Runner.
He's a weasel.
And there was a right thing to say right then and I didn't.
Which is why I'm writing this post. This post is my promise into the void that I will not let this slide.
Noddy and I are going to discuss this - and I am going to say what's on my mind.
My team is a good one and they deserve better.
From Noddy - and from me.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
A Letter For George
I wrote this story about ten years ago.
At the time, it was a curiosity - a mystery, even. I've said before, I'm stubborn.
But I think this story has me beat.
Apologies to those who've heard this chapter before, but this time around - there will be new chapters.
For most of my family, the story began with an envelope that arrived sometime before 1965.
It was an unremarkable envelope, and it arrived at my grandparent's home while my grandfather George was away. It was addressed to him, but it was my grandmother who opened it. There was a Lancaster postmark, and the return address was from a hospital she'd never heard of.
Within moments of reading it, my grandmother was in hysterics.
The letter was from a physician. He seemed to be asking for permission to amputate George’s leg. This was necessary, the doctor explained, because George was not fit to make such decisions on his own.
Her husband worked on a train - had there been an accident? She frantically called coworkers and friends. No, they assured her, there had been no accident on the train. Even if there were - they certainly wouldn't notify the family by mail. George should be home on schedule, and everything should sort itself out.
Which left my grandmother at home staring at the clock and wondering; Why was it addressed to George? Was this all a mistake?
George did arrive on schedule, unharmed. When his wife confronted him with the letter, his response was indirect: “My God, he's still alive."
Who?
"My father."
And that was all he'd say. The letter's existence was only enough to pry out the necessary detail that George and his father shared a first name. After that, all questions were met with a gruff, "leave it alone."
The letter vanished, presumably signed and returned. Somewhere in Lancaster, a man no one knew lost his leg. There would be one more letter, years later. Grandpa George would read that one in private.
A lot never occurred to me back then. I also never wondered about why I had a grandfather with a surname shared by none of my great-grandparents. I was a kid, and had no interest in old people with funny names.
He was a history buff. He loved hearing a good story as much as telling one - so long as it was true. He had no use for fiction. Grandpa had an elephantine memory for battles and their generals, and he could put you right in the middle of whatever battle he was describing.
He loved firearms, and had a gun collection that was modest in size, but had no peer when it came to maintenance. Nobody had cleaner guns than Grandpa George. He'd take one out for just a minute, then clean it for ten before putting it back. We used to joke that grandpa liked cleaning guns more than shooting them.
I spent a lot of time watching grandpa clean his guns. That, and listening to everything grandpa knew about gun safety - grandpa was nuts about gun safety.
He was of course, much more than that. But I was a kid with simple questions and simple views. By the time my questions actually meant something, the time to ask them had passed.
It was in college that my curiosity finally connected the dots on why my great-grandmother didn’t share Grandpa George’s last name; she'd remarried. A fact that everyone knew, but one that somehow managed to elude me for more than two decades. Of course she'd remarried, her husband had left her.
Asked and answered.
"Our father had a terrible temper," she'd told my mother, "just terrible."
It seems that George Sr. also had a modest collection of guns, and also kept them in near-immaculate condition. One day when my grandfather was around ten years old, he took one of his father's guns without permission and went shooting out in the woods. Once he was done, he snuck it back into his father's gun case and never said a word.
Of course, he'd put them back dirty.
It's easy to imagine what happened next. The father comes home and notices that someone has been using his guns. He confronts his son, who - being a kid - denies everything. Then he shows George Jr. the proof: dirt and residue on rifles that are always clean.
Then, according to Francie, George Sr. proceeded to beat his son.
Francie was a kind soul, so she called it a beating. But beating is far too small a word for what my great-grandfather did to his son that night.
I should point out that unless some ancient police report surfaces, there is no way to know what occurred with any certainty. All who were there are now dead. However, the two facts I have pretty much tell the story.
After that night - my great-grandmother gathered her children and left her husband forever. Because of what he did, my great-grandfather was put into a state mental hospital, where he spent the rest of his life.
It was this hospital that sent my grandfather the letter all those years later.
It was, oddly enough, at a time when my parents and uncles were in the next room. I had figured they were too busy to worry about me, and anyway - I wanted to pick up the pistol.
It was a Browning 9mm, your classic movie pistol, and it was impressive. Aping what I had seen on TV, I gripped it and pulled the slide back-
-and watched a live round slide halfway out of the side of the gun, jamming it open.
I was dead. I knew it, I was too terrified to let the slide go back, because any slip could make the gun go off. Even if I managed to clear the jam, I'd have to take a bullet out of the gun and grandpa would know.
Kid logic exhausted, I gave up. I set down the pistol and went to my grandpa and told him to follow me.
As I entered his room with him behind me, I could just see it coming. I'd let him down. Everything he'd shown me, everything he taught me, I'd blown it, and he was going to hit the roof. He'd start with, "NEVER pick up a gun without an adult!!" and then my parents and everyone would come in and join in, and my life would be over.
But he didn't.
He cleared the jam, put the pistol away, and said "Forget about it. I've forgotten about it already." Then he pushed me out of the room. I couldn't believe it. He didn't punish me, he didn't even yell.
He got rid of the pistol after that, but he never brought that day up again - or told anyone about it - and I never understood.
At the time, it was a curiosity - a mystery, even. I've said before, I'm stubborn.
But I think this story has me beat.
Apologies to those who've heard this chapter before, but this time around - there will be new chapters.
For most of my family, the story began with an envelope that arrived sometime before 1965.
It was an unremarkable envelope, and it arrived at my grandparent's home while my grandfather George was away. It was addressed to him, but it was my grandmother who opened it. There was a Lancaster postmark, and the return address was from a hospital she'd never heard of.
Within moments of reading it, my grandmother was in hysterics.
The letter was from a physician. He seemed to be asking for permission to amputate George’s leg. This was necessary, the doctor explained, because George was not fit to make such decisions on his own.
Her husband worked on a train - had there been an accident? She frantically called coworkers and friends. No, they assured her, there had been no accident on the train. Even if there were - they certainly wouldn't notify the family by mail. George should be home on schedule, and everything should sort itself out.
Which left my grandmother at home staring at the clock and wondering; Why was it addressed to George? Was this all a mistake?
George did arrive on schedule, unharmed. When his wife confronted him with the letter, his response was indirect: “My God, he's still alive."
Who?
"My father."
And that was all he'd say. The letter's existence was only enough to pry out the necessary detail that George and his father shared a first name. After that, all questions were met with a gruff, "leave it alone."
The letter vanished, presumably signed and returned. Somewhere in Lancaster, a man no one knew lost his leg. There would be one more letter, years later. Grandpa George would read that one in private.
In all the memories of my grandfather, I can remember only one utterance about his father. "He said he was from Georgia. White Russia." He had said it like he was unsure -and wished he wasn't. I never asked him why he hadn't just asked his dad to be certain, it just didn't occur to me.
A lot never occurred to me back then. I also never wondered about why I had a grandfather with a surname shared by none of my great-grandparents. I was a kid, and had no interest in old people with funny names.
My early memories of Grandpa George were simple.
He was a mountain of a man with a booming voice. He was the kind of person who would do anything for you if he liked you, but he gave off vibes that told you not to ask for much. Truth was, I was afraid of him for a long time.
He was a history buff. He loved hearing a good story as much as telling one - so long as it was true. He had no use for fiction. Grandpa had an elephantine memory for battles and their generals, and he could put you right in the middle of whatever battle he was describing.
He loved firearms, and had a gun collection that was modest in size, but had no peer when it came to maintenance. Nobody had cleaner guns than Grandpa George. He'd take one out for just a minute, then clean it for ten before putting it back. We used to joke that grandpa liked cleaning guns more than shooting them.
I spent a lot of time watching grandpa clean his guns. That, and listening to everything grandpa knew about gun safety - grandpa was nuts about gun safety.
He was of course, much more than that. But I was a kid with simple questions and simple views. By the time my questions actually meant something, the time to ask them had passed.
Over time, I learned little else about my Great-grandfather. Mostly from how people said something about him, rather than what words they'd chosen. "Oh, yeah..." they'd say, "he left when grandpa was young."
It was in college that my curiosity finally connected the dots on why my great-grandmother didn’t share Grandpa George’s last name; she'd remarried. A fact that everyone knew, but one that somehow managed to elude me for more than two decades. Of course she'd remarried, her husband had left her.
Asked and answered.
Not too long ago, some other peoples' memories finally came bubbling to the surface. They were from George's sister Francie, by way of my mother. Before she died, Francie had told my mother a little about George Sr.
"Our father had a terrible temper," she'd told my mother, "just terrible."
It seems that George Sr. also had a modest collection of guns, and also kept them in near-immaculate condition. One day when my grandfather was around ten years old, he took one of his father's guns without permission and went shooting out in the woods. Once he was done, he snuck it back into his father's gun case and never said a word.
Of course, he'd put them back dirty.
It's easy to imagine what happened next. The father comes home and notices that someone has been using his guns. He confronts his son, who - being a kid - denies everything. Then he shows George Jr. the proof: dirt and residue on rifles that are always clean.
Then, according to Francie, George Sr. proceeded to beat his son.
Francie was a kind soul, so she called it a beating. But beating is far too small a word for what my great-grandfather did to his son that night.
I should point out that unless some ancient police report surfaces, there is no way to know what occurred with any certainty. All who were there are now dead. However, the two facts I have pretty much tell the story.
After that night - my great-grandmother gathered her children and left her husband forever. Because of what he did, my great-grandfather was put into a state mental hospital, where he spent the rest of his life.
It was this hospital that sent my grandfather the letter all those years later.
One other memory from my childhood comes back to me now. There was a time when my grandfather kept a pistol in his nightstand. Being a kid, it took no time at all for me to find it, and only one or two days for me to build up the nerve to actually pick it up.
It was, oddly enough, at a time when my parents and uncles were in the next room. I had figured they were too busy to worry about me, and anyway - I wanted to pick up the pistol.
It was a Browning 9mm, your classic movie pistol, and it was impressive. Aping what I had seen on TV, I gripped it and pulled the slide back-
-and watched a live round slide halfway out of the side of the gun, jamming it open.
I was dead. I knew it, I was too terrified to let the slide go back, because any slip could make the gun go off. Even if I managed to clear the jam, I'd have to take a bullet out of the gun and grandpa would know.
Kid logic exhausted, I gave up. I set down the pistol and went to my grandpa and told him to follow me.
As I entered his room with him behind me, I could just see it coming. I'd let him down. Everything he'd shown me, everything he taught me, I'd blown it, and he was going to hit the roof. He'd start with, "NEVER pick up a gun without an adult!!" and then my parents and everyone would come in and join in, and my life would be over.
But he didn't.
He cleared the jam, put the pistol away, and said "Forget about it. I've forgotten about it already." Then he pushed me out of the room. I couldn't believe it. He didn't punish me, he didn't even yell.
He got rid of the pistol after that, but he never brought that day up again - or told anyone about it - and I never understood.
I think I do now.
...
...
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Agile in All Caps
I'm a few days into the new gig, and I've already reverted to CorpMode.
Item one: the parking ramp. Headlights on ("For safety!") and then I'm crumping my way up the levels to find my slot. As ever, the nearest slots are reserved for people who are never there. Then there's a host of open slots I could park in, but are clearly poor choices because the early crowd passed them over.
It's all about proximity to the building, and with the ground floor reserved or taken - the sweet spot for all other levels becomes anything next to the main stairwell. Which is completely socked in by the early crowd. I'm in the second wave, so my choices will always be far corner or go up a level. None of which is a big deal - it's just funny how ubiquitous the parking logic is. If there's a ramp - this is how it is.
Funnier still, is how fast I've started forgetting where I parked. Which I'm sure isn't helped by age - but my current theory is based on Minority Report. In a typical day, I add 2 car parking memories:
Arrive in the morning AM 1.
Arrive after lunch/errands PM 2.
Two nearly identical memories layered onto my brain. Each day.
1 - in the morning:
Drive into ramp. AM
Park car. AM
Get gear. AM
Walk to stairwell. AM
Enter building. AM
Done. AM
and 2 - returning from lunch:
Drive into ramp. PM
Park car. PM
Get gear. PM
Walk to stairwell. PM
Enter building. PM
Done. PM
Neither is particularly exciting. Commute = BORING. So the part of my brain that is responsible for tracking things for later use starts phoning it in. Which means at the end of the day, I ask my brain "where's the car?" and it coughs up:
Drive into ramp. PM
Park car. AM
Get gear. PM
Walk to stairwell. AM
Enter building. PM
Done. PM
-which results in me heading down the ramp to where my car was in the morning - and about midway down the ramp and not seeing my car I start looking around like a lost sheep.
And on the half visible level that is ramping up away from mine - I make out my license plates on a car that looks exactly like mine.
The number of times this happened back at CorpWorld was... well, humiliating. I spent serious time looking for a car only to realize I was in the wrong parking ramp. CorpWorld had two and if I was running late I would sometimes park in the A ramp - creating an A ramp memory that was utterly drowned out by thousands of B ramp parking memories.
Where the F$#* is my car???
And you know it's your brain letting you down - not even a desperate thief would steal my car - but asking for today's parking memory just returns a "Drive into ramp B" highlight reel.
Thanks, brain. Way to go.
And here I am doing that again.
Only this time it's at my new Corporate gig - a place I'll call NerdHaven.
I should call it HighCeilings - because - well, DAMN they have some stupid high ceilings in this place. I mean, I'm not a terrifically tall person, but I'm used to being able to touch the ceiling if I try.
At NerdHaven? Not a chance. If I stood on a chair, maybe - but I'd probably have to jump. I'm thinking if all the floors in this building were made normal, they'd have room for at least two more floors without changing the height of the building.
And the doors are massive, too. Part of the school of design that says "OUR SH!T IS BIGGER THAN YOURS, FEAR US."
Oh, they'd never write that in the building's MLS, - but that's totally what they mean.
HEAVY doorknobs.
SOLID framing.
Carpet that says, Yeah, we could have bought cheap and durable - but then we thought 'Nah, blow another thirty grand. Why not? Who wants some sushi?
CorpWorld was a marvel - but NerdHaven has all the bling, plus style and attitude. These guys know they are cool. New guys wear khakis, the veterans wear jeans and tee shirts - with logos on them. I'm not sure the rank and file can get away with that yet, and there's more than a little of the "Yeah? I know this is borderline - but who's gonna get big about it, you? Yeah, I *thought* so."
The first day was a trip. I buzz in and get some random soul who lets me in on my say so. "I'm starting work here today." Bzzzz! And in.
I meet a random staffer who immediately hands me over to tech support.
Mental note: NerdHaven does not have reception. You cannot call the operator, because there isn't one. You either know the extension you need - or you don't get anyone.
Tech support is ably represented by OneLetter - a football jersey wearing, easygoing breath of fresh air who is also in charge of making sure your slice of NerdHaven tech is up and running.
OneLetter gives me the nickel tour, points out the break room where coffee, tea, juice and soda are all complimentary.
They have a pizza oven.
While my brain is digesting that fact, One Letter scans me through a door into yet another massively tall hallway, another secure door and into my future project room.
It is immediately clear that Agile is the name of the game here.
* * *
At CorpWorld, we used to do Agile software development. As anyone in tech knows, there are many, many flavors of Agile.
CorpWorld's flavor went something like this: Someone in management heard that the there was this newnewthing called Agile (that had been around since the 90s) and we should probably have some of that.
Years later, project teams were formed to capitalize on this "emerging" trend - and my last big project was created to pilot its use at CorpWorld. We would do heavyweight waterfall development, but we would sit near each other and stand up for a half an hour each morning to "scrum."
In the eyes of the higher ups, this made us Agile.
I did straight waterfall projects for years before this and I never saw more documentation than when CorpWorld shifted to Agile. We did version-controlled user stories in Excel spreadsheets - stored on Sharepoint. I did mockups in Axure, took screenshots of them and then pasted them into Excel.
It was horrible, but eventually it became normal. I switched to Visio - which I thought made it less terrible, but thinking back - it was a giant bundle of insane. We should have abandoned the spreadsheets after the first sprint and done something, anything else - but the CorpWorld train was all about soldiering on, cost and reason be damned.
There were advances from the typical CorpWorld approach - it must be said. Their "Agile" approach had two genuine improvements - co-location and the scrums.
Co-location was the slow burn win for CorpWorld. A company that large is always going to have communication issues - but departmental fault lines had become so pervasive that any cross department effort was virtually hamstrung from the outset.
Departments grew insular - Why are you bothering us? was the typical first response, followed almost immediately by We like things they way they are.
Even with funding and the support of management, getting cooperation was frequently a nightmare. A unit might request endless meetings to discuss and revise baselined requirements. Or they might just be so slow to respond you'd give up and move on to someone else.
Or initial cooperation would turn into obstinacy when management wasn't around. Name a disfunction, CorpWorld had it.
But with co-location - all (well, most of) the resources your project needed were allocated full time. You weren't pleading with a group of developers in some other wing of the building, you were pleading with a group of developers right next to your desk.
My last project, we had analysts, testers, devs, and managers all in one big huddle of desks. You worked right next to them. There was none of this "I'm too busy right now to get to that, I'll get it to you in two weeks" crap. Whoever was asking for something could look over at you and see damn well you were screwing around on YouTube and give you grief about it.
Co-location was a big shift in how CorpWorld worked.
So were the scrums.
I know a lot of the people on my team hated the scrums. I did - off and on - but they did something that Atul Gawande's Checklist Manifesto crystalized for me. The book described a pre-surgery checklist with an item that seemed laughably basic: "the surgical team should learn each other's names before beginning the procedure."
Gawande points out that a surgical team frequently won't know each other's name - and this mental distance will make them less likely to contribute to the team. If I don't know anyone - I will speak less, I will ask for help less and - crucially - I will be less likely to intervene when I see a colleague do something questionable.
Our scrums forced our team to talk to one another. With zero practice or guidance, we were terrible. Most of us would blather on about this or that or make small talk or jokes until it was somebody else's turn. I can recall spending a good amount of time trying to come up with something to say that sounded useful - even if the truth was I hadn't done a whole hell of a lot.
This was defeating the larger purpose of the scrums - make yourself accountable to the team, make useful connections, and commit to units of work. Our managers used to stand in and listen in the beginning, but they were soon bored and stopped coming.
But there was another win there all the same. I learned who my teammates were. What they worked on - what kind of a person they were. In prior projects, people were resources- representatives of a given discipline like architecture - and they were the go between for a slew of people you'd never meet. "I have a question about this integration, who do I meet with?" Your architect rep wouldn't know, but they'd look into it. And another week would go by.
With scrums, you knew who to go to.
I have an integration problem - I go to Zero.
Anything with the proxy? - it's Lion.
System design? Rico Suave.
Main code base? Alpha, or more likely, Ace.
Main requirements? The Builder, Spock, or The Machine.
And so on.
At CorpWorld, this was a very new thing. Yeah, you had a contact list like that for other projects, but you didn't know those people - and they sure as hell didn't know you.
After months of the scrums - nobody was afraid to talk to anyone in the group. Well, plenty of people were afraid to talk to Alpha, but that's why everyone went to Ace.
We worked together. It was slow, it was awkward - and it sure as hell wasn't Agile, but we managed to release a solid app into the wild.
Because, in the end, we were a team.
* * *
NerdHaven does Agile. The full blown affair - and while there are definite risks to the Agile approach, watching someone actually do all the things my CorpWorld team missed out on...
Well, its a hell of a thing to see.
We are all in a single project room. Co-located cheek by jowl in the way that says "if you're screwing around, everyone will know." So, you don't screw around, at least, not without the group buying in.
There are team rules. You don't talk on the phone in the project room - unless it's a conference call for the team. Any time somebody needs quiet, there's a STFU indicator on the wall they can set so that everyone knows that loud time is over. No shout downs, no calling management - just a mutual understanding that anyone has the right to muzzle the room if they need it.
Respect.
That's what this depends on. Done badly, this could be a bunch of rules enforced by some managerial type - which would suck. But in this team environment - we're pretty much our own law so long as the velocity is good.
Build it on time - and you get to rule your own room without interference.
And the group looks to be pretty solid. By unspoken assent, the leader of the group is BigDog - an immensely capable coder who has passed that point where they need to scrap for respect. You listen to the BigDog, because the BigDog knows things. And they're not a jerk about it. I listened to the BigDog read out the prime directive of our team - a really mature statement of "we are all doing the best we can with what we know at the time" - and I really think this is how they see it. Be up front, and expect your team members to be the same.
If you get to a point where you suspect your team members of malicious intent then you're part of the problem. You should be calling them out with direct questions and learning what is up - not holding back and inventing malicious intent to fill in the resulting gap. Don't wonder - ASK.
Today I watched the retrospective and planning session and there were a lot of familiar moments that were just done better than we'd ever done at CorpWorld.
The team share out was a case in point - a quick icebreaker with the stated purpose of "once you've spoken to the group, you're more likely to contribute later. So speak now, even if it's something stupid. There is value in this."
And there was. I barely know my group, but a few minutes in and we're picking a team nickname and poking fun of each other's choice of animal totems. And later, when it comes time to share work info - everyone is involved. Method to the madness - realized.
I can see lots of macro mistakes to Agile - chunking everything into tiny bits can allow for a lot of big picture goofs - and (as I am now seeing) a ton of inconsistent UI - but this is part of why they brought me here. To work on that. The team needed something, so they asked for it. And management made it happen.
Seeing stuff like that happen in such a short span of time is disorienting for a veteran of CorpWorld. I'm sure there will be a massive amount of adjusting on my part.
But, honestly?
Kinda looking forward to it.
And free coffee definitely helps.
I should call it HighCeilings - because - well, DAMN they have some stupid high ceilings in this place. I mean, I'm not a terrifically tall person, but I'm used to being able to touch the ceiling if I try.
At NerdHaven? Not a chance. If I stood on a chair, maybe - but I'd probably have to jump. I'm thinking if all the floors in this building were made normal, they'd have room for at least two more floors without changing the height of the building.
And the doors are massive, too. Part of the school of design that says "OUR SH!T IS BIGGER THAN YOURS, FEAR US."
Oh, they'd never write that in the building's MLS, - but that's totally what they mean.
HEAVY doorknobs.
SOLID framing.
Carpet that says, Yeah, we could have bought cheap and durable - but then we thought 'Nah, blow another thirty grand. Why not? Who wants some sushi?
CorpWorld was a marvel - but NerdHaven has all the bling, plus style and attitude. These guys know they are cool. New guys wear khakis, the veterans wear jeans and tee shirts - with logos on them. I'm not sure the rank and file can get away with that yet, and there's more than a little of the "Yeah? I know this is borderline - but who's gonna get big about it, you? Yeah, I *thought* so."
The first day was a trip. I buzz in and get some random soul who lets me in on my say so. "I'm starting work here today." Bzzzz! And in.
I meet a random staffer who immediately hands me over to tech support.
Mental note: NerdHaven does not have reception. You cannot call the operator, because there isn't one. You either know the extension you need - or you don't get anyone.
Tech support is ably represented by OneLetter - a football jersey wearing, easygoing breath of fresh air who is also in charge of making sure your slice of NerdHaven tech is up and running.
OneLetter gives me the nickel tour, points out the break room where coffee, tea, juice and soda are all complimentary.
They have a pizza oven.
While my brain is digesting that fact, One Letter scans me through a door into yet another massively tall hallway, another secure door and into my future project room.
It is immediately clear that Agile is the name of the game here.
* * *
At CorpWorld, we used to do Agile software development. As anyone in tech knows, there are many, many flavors of Agile.
CorpWorld's flavor went something like this: Someone in management heard that the there was this newnewthing called Agile (that had been around since the 90s) and we should probably have some of that.
Years later, project teams were formed to capitalize on this "emerging" trend - and my last big project was created to pilot its use at CorpWorld. We would do heavyweight waterfall development, but we would sit near each other and stand up for a half an hour each morning to "scrum."
In the eyes of the higher ups, this made us Agile.
I did straight waterfall projects for years before this and I never saw more documentation than when CorpWorld shifted to Agile. We did version-controlled user stories in Excel spreadsheets - stored on Sharepoint. I did mockups in Axure, took screenshots of them and then pasted them into Excel.
It was horrible, but eventually it became normal. I switched to Visio - which I thought made it less terrible, but thinking back - it was a giant bundle of insane. We should have abandoned the spreadsheets after the first sprint and done something, anything else - but the CorpWorld train was all about soldiering on, cost and reason be damned.
There were advances from the typical CorpWorld approach - it must be said. Their "Agile" approach had two genuine improvements - co-location and the scrums.
Co-location was the slow burn win for CorpWorld. A company that large is always going to have communication issues - but departmental fault lines had become so pervasive that any cross department effort was virtually hamstrung from the outset.
Departments grew insular - Why are you bothering us? was the typical first response, followed almost immediately by We like things they way they are.
Even with funding and the support of management, getting cooperation was frequently a nightmare. A unit might request endless meetings to discuss and revise baselined requirements. Or they might just be so slow to respond you'd give up and move on to someone else.
Or initial cooperation would turn into obstinacy when management wasn't around. Name a disfunction, CorpWorld had it.
But with co-location - all (well, most of) the resources your project needed were allocated full time. You weren't pleading with a group of developers in some other wing of the building, you were pleading with a group of developers right next to your desk.
My last project, we had analysts, testers, devs, and managers all in one big huddle of desks. You worked right next to them. There was none of this "I'm too busy right now to get to that, I'll get it to you in two weeks" crap. Whoever was asking for something could look over at you and see damn well you were screwing around on YouTube and give you grief about it.
Co-location was a big shift in how CorpWorld worked.
So were the scrums.
I know a lot of the people on my team hated the scrums. I did - off and on - but they did something that Atul Gawande's Checklist Manifesto crystalized for me. The book described a pre-surgery checklist with an item that seemed laughably basic: "the surgical team should learn each other's names before beginning the procedure."
Gawande points out that a surgical team frequently won't know each other's name - and this mental distance will make them less likely to contribute to the team. If I don't know anyone - I will speak less, I will ask for help less and - crucially - I will be less likely to intervene when I see a colleague do something questionable.
Our scrums forced our team to talk to one another. With zero practice or guidance, we were terrible. Most of us would blather on about this or that or make small talk or jokes until it was somebody else's turn. I can recall spending a good amount of time trying to come up with something to say that sounded useful - even if the truth was I hadn't done a whole hell of a lot.
This was defeating the larger purpose of the scrums - make yourself accountable to the team, make useful connections, and commit to units of work. Our managers used to stand in and listen in the beginning, but they were soon bored and stopped coming.
But there was another win there all the same. I learned who my teammates were. What they worked on - what kind of a person they were. In prior projects, people were resources- representatives of a given discipline like architecture - and they were the go between for a slew of people you'd never meet. "I have a question about this integration, who do I meet with?" Your architect rep wouldn't know, but they'd look into it. And another week would go by.
With scrums, you knew who to go to.
I have an integration problem - I go to Zero.
Anything with the proxy? - it's Lion.
System design? Rico Suave.
Main code base? Alpha, or more likely, Ace.
Main requirements? The Builder, Spock, or The Machine.
And so on.
At CorpWorld, this was a very new thing. Yeah, you had a contact list like that for other projects, but you didn't know those people - and they sure as hell didn't know you.
After months of the scrums - nobody was afraid to talk to anyone in the group. Well, plenty of people were afraid to talk to Alpha, but that's why everyone went to Ace.
We worked together. It was slow, it was awkward - and it sure as hell wasn't Agile, but we managed to release a solid app into the wild.
Because, in the end, we were a team.
* * *
NerdHaven does Agile. The full blown affair - and while there are definite risks to the Agile approach, watching someone actually do all the things my CorpWorld team missed out on...
Well, its a hell of a thing to see.
We are all in a single project room. Co-located cheek by jowl in the way that says "if you're screwing around, everyone will know." So, you don't screw around, at least, not without the group buying in.
There are team rules. You don't talk on the phone in the project room - unless it's a conference call for the team. Any time somebody needs quiet, there's a STFU indicator on the wall they can set so that everyone knows that loud time is over. No shout downs, no calling management - just a mutual understanding that anyone has the right to muzzle the room if they need it.
Respect.
That's what this depends on. Done badly, this could be a bunch of rules enforced by some managerial type - which would suck. But in this team environment - we're pretty much our own law so long as the velocity is good.
Build it on time - and you get to rule your own room without interference.
And the group looks to be pretty solid. By unspoken assent, the leader of the group is BigDog - an immensely capable coder who has passed that point where they need to scrap for respect. You listen to the BigDog, because the BigDog knows things. And they're not a jerk about it. I listened to the BigDog read out the prime directive of our team - a really mature statement of "we are all doing the best we can with what we know at the time" - and I really think this is how they see it. Be up front, and expect your team members to be the same.
If you get to a point where you suspect your team members of malicious intent then you're part of the problem. You should be calling them out with direct questions and learning what is up - not holding back and inventing malicious intent to fill in the resulting gap. Don't wonder - ASK.
Today I watched the retrospective and planning session and there were a lot of familiar moments that were just done better than we'd ever done at CorpWorld.
The team share out was a case in point - a quick icebreaker with the stated purpose of "once you've spoken to the group, you're more likely to contribute later. So speak now, even if it's something stupid. There is value in this."
And there was. I barely know my group, but a few minutes in and we're picking a team nickname and poking fun of each other's choice of animal totems. And later, when it comes time to share work info - everyone is involved. Method to the madness - realized.
I can see lots of macro mistakes to Agile - chunking everything into tiny bits can allow for a lot of big picture goofs - and (as I am now seeing) a ton of inconsistent UI - but this is part of why they brought me here. To work on that. The team needed something, so they asked for it. And management made it happen.
Seeing stuff like that happen in such a short span of time is disorienting for a veteran of CorpWorld. I'm sure there will be a massive amount of adjusting on my part.
But, honestly?
Kinda looking forward to it.
And free coffee definitely helps.
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