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The death of a thousand barbs

One of the things we do when we grow up is learn when to stop. When my daughter comes up to me and pokes me in the ribs with a finger? Ha-ha, everyone laughs. Does it again? Maybe a little less laughter. Does it again? "Please stop." Does it again? "I asked you to stop," with growing anger.

It's a lesson she's still learning at 11.

If I was getting a little poke in the ribs from different people, or by the same person on different days, it would be a lot harder to seem justified in losing my temper over it. "Hey, it's just one poke. Lighten up."

One poke by you, or that you say. But not for me.

And here's where that applies in a bit more culturally sensitive of a context … #ddtb

Reshared post from +Les Jenkins

Sexism is a problem everywhere it seems.

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The Million Little Barbs Of "Lighten Up"
Recently, I was asked why a woman who loves coding would ever leave the field. In short, I got tired of being told to “lighten up.”

It's true: at one point in my life, I decided that coding would be something I'd do only in private. I was only slowly pulled back into the fold. Let me tell you, I love coding. Been doing it since before I hit puberty. I did it when I barely had the money to keep a server up. I do it on the weekends and evenings, and I'm teaching my kids how to do it. I've spe…

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