Words. Ideas. Actions.

07 November 2022

I tried to stay above the fray today. It was tough; there was lots to follow. But about halfway through the afternoon, I saw something on the Twitter Alumni Slack that changed both my focus and mood for the rest of the day: the #OneTeam Tweep Talent Directory.

Started by Chanddan Maloo, this is the compilation of hundreds of form entries to collect both the names, titles, and LinkedIn profiles of former Tweeps now looking for their next gig in one tab, and another tab with a collection of recruiters and companies who are looking to hire the amazing talent that has been so abruptly shunted off.  

I took some time to scroll through it, searching for familiar names from the Design and Research team. I wanted to find few, naively hoping my former teammates had already put enough pieces in place to weather this storm. But as I came across name after name, I realized I needed to get more involved. 

I sent each of them a message, commiserating about how shitty all this is and offering any help they thought I could provide. I also recommended they look through the current Google job listings to see if anything there piqued their interests; lawd knows how much we value internal referrals.

I’ve heard back from a few already, and we’re talking about how to narrow options and take some new steps in the next part of their career journey. But, if you’re reading this and you’re currently looking, too, please let me know how I can help. Although you know I’m trying (and occasionally failing) to stay off of The Bird App, you can still DM me, and I’ll probably see it sooner rather than later. Or, in an effort toward expediency, if you're interested in a Google gig, you can email me at my work address (my LDAP is srfox@). Whether we’re Tweeps or not, we’ll always be #OneTeam.

See you tomorrow?

06 November 2022

Just a short post for you today because I’m feeling sentimental, and all the product thinking from yesterday makes me want to reevaluate how much time I should spend rehashing product decisions for a company which no longer employs me. With that in mind, let’s reminisce a bit about one of the big reasons I always wanted to be a Tweep: #LoveWhereYouWork. 

If you’re reading this (and thank you for that), then you probably know that Tweeps around the world have used this hashtag for years as a shorthand for the affection we have for the platform, people, and places we worked. But it’s more than a slogan. The hashtag developed organically, based in love, admiration, and gratitude.

Whenever I had guests visit the office, I always made sure to stop by the fifth floor so that I could share this story with each and every guest. And although in my almost five years working for Twitter, I only ever visited two other offices, I made sure to visit their #LoveWhereYouWork installations before I left. 

Our facilities team, which we called REW, made sure that while each office was unique and built to be part of the neighborhood fabrics in every city we were in, every office had consistent touches to make sure we could honor and represent what Lucy’s hashtag really meant. This idea, and the fact that we lived it every day, made me not just proud to work for Twitter, but lucky enough to work at Twitter as well. It’s one of those memories that, no matter what current ownership does to the product, will always be a part of what I loved about my time there.

See you tomorrow?

04 November 2022

Last night, shortly after I posted yesterday’s entry, I saw a link in the Twitter Alumni Slack for a Twitter Space featuring current and former Tweeps, and I reluctantly joined. I’m glad I did. In it were current and former Twitter employees sharing fond stories, favorite memories, and lots of honest, genuine admiration for each other and what we have built. One thing that stood out for me, though, was the intense sense of camaraderie. 

We talked about Tea Times and One Team and the stories behind how we got certain celebrities back on the platform. And, as the night grew later, and the tales got more sentimental, one thing was clear: There is nothing like Twitter. And no matter who owns it, nobody can take those memories away.

One story that was shared happened at a Tea Time in 2018, right after most other platforms were booting a certain loud-mouthed Texan with a penchant for denying the reality of a massacre of 26 teachers and children. Twitter, and Jack specifically, had decided not to follow suit. There’s a lot more I want to share about this later — and I intend to — but it was a reminder that no matter how much we loved each other and this platform, we had to continually face, and respond to, almost each and every unpredictable event the globe could throw at us. While still building for the future. It’s no wonder why our bond is so strong.

I tried my best to go about my day today as normal, but it was simply impossible. Seeing new members join the Slack, hearing their histories, and reuniting with people I haven’t talked to in more than two years meant the world to me. And just being able to commune and commiserate with them did me some good as I watched news story after news story come to the same realization we had already reached: Twitter will never be the same.

Today exhausted me, and I didn’t even get laid off! But all of this news has definitely taken an emotional toll. I just hope I’m able to redirect this sadness and angst into something more productive, like finding these Tweeps new roles, and helping maintain the community that’s sprung up out of the decomposing body of what was a living, vibrant, beautiful organism, thoughtlessly buried by all this needless turmoil. Here’s hoping that all this decomposition leads to many new blooms very soon.

See you tomorrow?

03 November 2022

I started drafting this right after getting out of this week’s therapy session. In a surprise to absolutely no one, what’s happening at Twitter was a big part of my conversation. I posted a shorter version of this in the relatively new Twitter Alumni Slack (if you are a former Tweep and need an invite, please let me know), but I wanted to flush out my initial thoughts here a little bit, in an effort to process the utter disaster that is happening to some of my former colleagues and current Tweeps right this minute. (For the most up-to-the-minute updates — assuming you’re avoiding Twitter like me — I’d recommend following the reporting of Mike Isaac, Casey Newton, and Will Oremus.)

One thing to keep in mind, please, as I think out loud tonight is this: The people being laid off, and the way it’s being done, is the most important aspect of this. There is nothing more important than their safety and wellbeing. The words I am grasping to collect here as this unfolds is just a desperate attempt to try and personally process all of this. There is just so little else I can do, other than watch newly former-Tweeps post in the Twitter Alumni Slack in real-time as their corporate access gets cut off.

From a practical standpoint, the Twitter Alumni Slack is at least a pragmatic focus, a distraction for good, helping Tweeps find their next role. It’s helped mitigate a lot of my rage and anxious energy, but there’s also a value — for me, at least — in acknowledging how sad all this is. Sad for current Tweeps. For former Tweeps. And especially for the ones being let go. Seeing something we put so much time, effort, and care into get completely gutted from the inside, it’s just heartbreaking. To paraphrase a thought I came across in one of the many, many links people have been sharing today, Twitter is no more. The service that people worked for will never be the same. And even if you survive the pending purge, the role you originally had, and the culture that surrounded it, is gone forever. 

As I’ve toiled with my own complicated feelings, I had been telling people it feels like I lost a friend. But today — and with apologies for the possible ableist language, I’m just trying my best here — I realized maybe it feels more like losing a limb in that an important part of me, something I used every day and relied on for multiple tasks and reasons, is now gone. Yes, I’m still here and able to function, but it’s not the same. And it’s never going to be the same.

I have no idea what additional trauma tomorrow will bring for Tweeps, but as I wrap up this attempt at trying to make some sense of absolutely anything at all, I want to make sure you know this: If you are a former Tweep, and you need something, no matter how big or how small, please let me know. 🫡

See you tomorrow?