Perspectives of a Child

I am an adult but it wasn't long ago that I was a child. Now I am a father, and in the transition from being a son to being a father, I became aware of how unbalanced the adult-child relationship actually is. As a kid, I most often interacted with my teachers, parents, and friends' parents, which led to the buildup of a set of assumptions. Now, I live with adults, I work with adults, and I am an adult (at least, I feel like one). Being on the other side, I've discovered that adults are not the people I thought they were. Here is a list of the most incorrect assumptions I used to have.

Adult development is static

It always seemed to me that kids were the only ones growing. I now know that adults grow too. The difference is that kids are forced to grow, as their bodies change and their responsibilities expand. Adults must choose to grow, by intentionally placing themselves in situations outside their comfort zone. For the adults that make that choice, they can look forward to a lifetime of growth.

Adults are patient

This is a lie. Adults only look patient because as masters of their environment they seldom have to wait for anything. Parents will harp on their kids to wait their turn, but on the occasions that you see those same people stuck in traffic or on hold with customer support, you'll realize that this is one of those areas where many adults still need to grow up.

Adults exercise self-control

This is the biggest lie of them all. An adult's lack of self-control doesn't usually result in a temper tantrum but it is pervasive in a variety of other forms. You'll see it in mindless gossip, heated arguments, drunkenness, dodging responsibility, over-eating, consumer debt, infidelity, online flame wars, grudges, bitterness, strained relationships with in-laws, fault-finding, divorce, lawsuits, materialism, communication breakdowns, disorganization, disrespect, racism, bigotry, and many other attitudes that harm families and send negative ripples throughout our communities.

Hypocrites

All in all it seems that parents tend to be hypocrites… scolding their children for the very behaviors they fail to correct in themselves. Christ had several teachings around this topic (he had a way of calling out hypocrites). He called the pharisees "whited sepulchers" who looked respectable on the outside, but on the inside were filled with "dead men's bones" [1]. He commanded them to clean the inner vessel first [2], and to cast the beam out of their own eye, before searching for motes in the eyes of others [3]. These teachings take on new meanings when applied to the parent reproving a child.

However, a few of my childhood assumptions were actually correct. I'll leave you with just one.

Adults are boring

While there are exceptions, this one is largely true. At our annual family reunions in Star Valley, Wyoming, the adults would congregate in the family room and talk. I would stand there for a little bit, but I would instantly become bored and run off to hunt for bugs, or rocks, or materials to build a fort out of. Then, occasionally, I'd pop back in to see what was going on but I would always find them still sitting there, talking. We just drove 8 hours so you could all sit here and talk?!? No water-balloon fight? No Frisbee throwing? Not even a board game? In their defense, we actually would have these activities, but to me it seemed like nearly 90% of their time was just spent in that living room… talking. BORING!

The open source community that embraces designers most, wins.

That's my theory. Here's my reasoning:

The nature of open source projects is that they are built out of the small contributions of hundreds and thousands of developers all over the world. Think about it. This is a logistical nightmare. You have thousands of people with thousands of opinions firing in all sorts of directions. It's a nightmare even if you have a strong governing body directing the work. Most software companies have leadership teams with the authority to guide projects, cut funding, lay off workers, add resources, negotiate scope, or determine priorities. With open source projects, the developers do all these tasks. It's amazing really. How do they do it?

They establish a process for contribution. Then they design and develop collaboration tools and contribution workflows that make the process possible. In these workflows, they put checks in place to ensure high quality, solid integration, and attention to security. For example, the Linux project has developed a host of software tools including LXR, Git, and their own Kernal.org code repository to help manage the contribution effort. Other open source organizations like Mozilla and Drupal have since adopted many of these tools (like here, and here, and here).

Unfortunately, when you have groups of developers building software for themselves, you wind up with open source contribution infrastructure that only fits the needs of developers. And good software (by today's standards) requires much more than developers. The best software, like Basecamp, Photoshop, or iOS is the result of collaborative efforts from several kinds of people with competing interests, including Graphic Designers, Interaction Designers, and Information Architects, to name a few. Can an open source project be successful if its contribution channels repel these kinds of people?

Maybe. Take a look at the open source success stories (we'll define "success" as projects that grew to acquire a huge marketshare in their industries). We've got Apache, MySQL, and PHP… all successes, but it's all software that isn't even seen by the mass markets. Exceptions exist, like Firefox, but by and large, you could say that open source aimed at the mass markets has largely been a flop. Has GNU/Linux ever been a serious contender with Macs and PCs? How has Open Office (or Libre Office) fared against Microsoft Office? Have you even heard of Inkscape or GIMP or Thunderbird? Those are the free alternatives for software that you currently pay for.

If you have tried to use any of this software, I think you'll quickly notice where the breakdown occurs. It's pure and simply, poor user experience. And when user experience is poor, it doesn't matter if your Photoshop wannabe can map a fractal trace using four different types of Mandelbrot parameters (and yes, it can). It doesn't matter if if costs $700 less than the commercial alternative (and yes, it does). You'll pick user experience over features any day of the week. And in order for open source to deliver a solid user experience, they'll need to do better at bringing designers on board.

--

(note: by just glancing at the websites of the projects I've mentioned, the lack of contributing designers is evident. Only one site really outshines these rest... Mozilla's. I cannot speak for their contribution processes, but clearly, they got designers involved somewhere along the way. And with designers on board, is it any surprise that they were the ones that got mass market penetration? Not to me.)

Fantastic links from an expert on these topics:

Family of Four

Are we really a family of four?

A family of four... that phrase sounds so strange to me. It's like we're the perfect, stereotypical, American family. But it isn't what I thought It would be like. When I think of such a family, I picture my Mom, my Dad, and two curious boys. But I'm not my Dad... at least not yet.

My Dad was strong, principled, and always completely in control. He didn't ever sleep in, or forget to take out the trash, or arrive late to church, or over-commit himself, or procrastinate getting an oil change. He didn't react in anger, fall through on a commitment, make a selfish choice, or give in to a guilty pleasure. He certainly wasn't afraid... not of change, or people , or uncertainty, or public speaking, or spiders, or whatever things people are afraid of. Of course, he was flawed. His singing wasn't great, and his dancing was worse, but when it came time to sing or dance, he always made a noble attempt. He wouldn't refuse, or shy away from the possibility of embarrassment. He was above such tendencies, or so I thought.

Now that I have a real education, a real job, and two kids of my own, I keep expecting to wake up one day and be just like him.

But I don't.

I struggle every day to not take the path of least resistance, but I often do it anyways. I'm afraid of all sorts of things... of making a bad impression, of saying the wrong thing, of demonstrating how ignorant I actually am. I seek validation and I want to impress my friends. I think of myself before others. Of course, I have some qualities. My dancing isn't bad, and my singing is better, but I shy away from opportunities to share my talents with others. I get frustrated with my kids, and even more frustrated with myself.

These flaws of mine always seem to stick around, despite my efforts to overcome them. And slowly, I'm realizing that this perfect, stereotypical, American family I've been looking forward to having, doesn't actually exist.

Is there really anybody out there who is completely in control? Who is selfless? Who has no fear? Does anybody perfectly balance their priorities, skillfully dividing their time across the things competing for their attention? Are we not the only ones who are living like "The Simpsons" in a picturesque, 21st century "Leave it to Beaver" America?

President John F. Kennedy said, “The greater our knowledge increases, the greater our ignorance unfolds." Perhaps this is not only true, but also ideal. We cannot go through the next stages of our lives, riding on the same assumptions that got us through the previous stages. Maybe my family of four won't be exactly as I expected, but it can still be good. For me that means reinventing the kind of father I ought to be, in a way that is compatible with who I am.

Imperfections included.

How could I have ever forgotten

I hop on the metro. I'm wearing a pinstriped suit, a collared shirt and a blue tie. I've got a lightweight laptop bag hanging casually over my shoulder. I check my smartphone: four events on my calendar. Lunch with my manager at Giovanni's. Two meetings with important clients. A conference call with my team.

I look around me. There's a woman sitting nearby, reading her Kindle. A man to her right reads the Washington Post. An older gentleman stands nearby, browsing on his iPhone while he listens to an audiobook. I choose to stand.

I walk the city streets of downtown Washington DC with a degree of confidence bordering on all-out swagger. I pass other suit-clad men as they walk past with their briefcases. Probably on their way to the capital building. Lawyers, accountants, senators and judges. I give a disparaging look to a beggar asking for change. How dare he annoy me.

I flash my badge as I enter the building. I'm cleared to continue and I move quickly towards the bay where the elevators wait. As I round the corner, I am caught off-guard and I run straight into a man going the opposite way. My bag falls to the ground and a pile of documents spill out. The man moves to help but I wave him off. "I got it," I say, but in my mind I wonder why this jerk can't watch where he's going.

As I gather my things, my eyes fall on a photograph.

It belonged to me, but it seemed unfamiliar. I hadn't seen it for a long time. I turn my head slightly to one side as I lift it up and examine it more closely.

- - -

Felipe Feliciano

- - -

His name was Felipe Evaristo Feliciano. We were friends once. Good friends. In another life. He didn't speak English very well, but he tried his best. We would go grocery shopping together, and he would point to a fruit and ask, "What is this one?"

"It's a lemon."

"Ohhh. Lemon. I like this one. It's nice."

"What is this one?"

"Avocado."

"We eat a lot of this one in my country."

Felipe was from Mozambique, where he grew up in a village just outside of Beira. His father passed away while he was still young and he was raised by his mother. That's all I know about his past.

I remember his willingness to learn. He would ask me to correct his English. "Please!" he would say. "I don't feel bad. If you do not tell me, then I will not learn." He had a heart of pure gold. I remember reaching to put on my pair of black dress shoes and finding them already polished and brushed for the day. It happened often. He never said anything and I never said anything but we both knew. He taught me with his example. He showed me of the many ways to communicate clearly without even saying a word. When I think of his humility, his sincerity, his kindness, I begin to remember.

How could I have ever forgotten.

It seems to be an innate human trait to seek validation. To desire to have people be impressed with you. To be respected. To be in demand. To be important.

"Remember, Caesar, thou art Mortal," goes the whispered warning to Julius Caesar in Shakespeare's great tragedy. How could Caesar have forgotten? He was drunk with power, insulated by his fame and popularity. His pride blinded him.

The story you just read about me in my pinstriped suit was mostly true. Sure, there was no collision, no photo falling out of my bag. But as I walk around DC, I sometimes think about how terrifyingly easy it would be for me to start behaving like that man. Proud. Arrogant. Condescending.

In some situations, for brief moments, I've actually felt that way. It's shocking, really, that I could forget so quickly that I was a struggling student not long ago, with nothing to my name. I'm no different a person today than I was 6 months ago. So why act like I am?

Ultimately, if fame, respect, or importance, ever causes me to be like the man in the pinstriped suit, then I will have made a grave mistake. It's the modern day selling of the proverbial birthright for a mess of pottage. "For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? [1]" I hope to never aspire to such a profit. Because once you meet someone like Felipe Feliciano you begin to realize that the inflated egos of successful CEOs, Wall Street brokers, or superstar athletes doesn't amount to a hill of beans when compared to the incredible character of a humble friend.

Here's looking at you kid.

Changes

Hey everyone. In case you haven't noticed, there have been a lot of changes in my life. We have a new baby boy, a new job, and we've moved across the country. Along with these changes, I've also changed BryanBraun.com to better fit my future uses of the site. I'll be brief.

I'm Mobile Friendly

Slowly, over time, I've been making incremental changes to the site in order to make it easy to use on mobile phones. It's not perfect but you can now visit the site without having to play the pinch and zoom game all day.

Double-blog  goodness

I now have two blogs. My personal blog will continue to contain the same kind of yummy material I've always posted, with an increased emphasis on life in the Braun house. In the past, I've had a tendency to drone on and on, so I will also be making an effort to keep my musings brief (this one is pretty good, right?). For that one person out there who actually reads this regularly, do not be alarmed. I will continue to post here weekly.

My new blog will contain material related to my the work I'm doing in the Web industry. I love this stuff and I can't help but pontificate endlessly about it. It's a bit unfair to subject my poor family to such treatment, so if you like building web stuff and want to geek out with me, you can do it at bryanbraun.com/drupal.

My Books

I love to read and with all the time I invest in reading, I've been looking for a way to reflect back on what I've read and share my recommendations with other people. As such, I've decided to put up a booklist containing the books I'm reading and the ratings I'd give them. I'm also hoping that people will see what I like and give me some good recommendations. If a book inspires me, I don't want to keep it to myself. You shouldn't either.

In Conclusion...

Life is awesome. I wish I could talk about all the incredible changes my family and I have been going through but I fear I would wear out the keys on this laptop. I hope that by opening up my site a little more, I can better share my thoughts, ideas, and experiences.

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Life is awesome.