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Embrace openness: Write for yourself, write for your community

The idea of having something to teach others may sound strange to you. Maybe you've heard from others that you have nothing to offer—let me tell you, they're wrong. Reading what you have to tell us is even more exciting when you're coming from a field that isn't tech! Humble us. You have a place in this space. I'll fight anyone who says otherwise. · 5 min read

In November 2017, I became one of the 42 people selected to participate in Outreachy. Given my short, but meaningful experience with internationalization and localization in free software at that point, I decided to apply to work on a project called “Translation outreach: User guides on MediaWiki.org”. The project I'd picked was one of the only project offered that didn't involve software development, and that would quickly become a source of anxiety over the course of my application: Wikimedia had stated they intended to select 5 interns, but they had listed 6 projects.

I remember spending days reading books, articles, blog posts, and interviews about the role of internalization, localization, and documentation in free software in an attempt to find arguments to justify the importance of my project. I was both a Mechanical Engineering student and a novice free software contributor, and I had no idea of the true dimension of the technology field; seeing programmers—and only programmers—being so acclaimed made me feel small. In retrospect, I let some of that fear creeped in when I wrote my first blog post:

The application process was exhausting not for the amount of work, but for the emotional process. You are required to make long-term plans to present proposals, but at the same time this is emotionally stressful because you constantly carry within yourself the fear of creating too much expectations and ending up failing. You wish that days would come and go quickly and the results to get announced soon but simultaneously you don’t want it to happen too quickly since you are afraid of an outcome that won’t make you happy. But sometimes, what seems impossible actually happens.

That had a profound impact on my approach to writing daily notes, blog posts, and other reports as an Outreachy intern: I’d force myself to write and publish everything I'd write, even if I didn’t feel like it, out of fear of having the merits of my work questioned. I would then spend years seeking the validation I thought an "actual professional title" could offer me without realizing that what made me such an interesting person was containing such a richness I couldn't be easily defined[1]. As I read our interns' reports about the outcomes of their internships, I realized I'm now in a position where I can be the person I needed 7 years ago.

A gentler approach #

Whether you're an Outreachy applicant, intern, alum, or just someone interested in reading what I write, I want to tell you: you should consider writing about your work, but with a different mindset than the one I had. Write for yourself:

To do that, follow Julia Evan's advice to write a brag document. Allow yourself to have moments of introspection where you can reflect about current and past events. Write, even if it never sees the light of day again. Write, even if it seems silly. As I wrote in My second brain remembers:

My notes are a just model of reality, and like any other model, it doesn't fully capture the full dimension of reality itself. But it's precise enough to work like a map — always there to help me remember my way home.

As an Outreachy applicant and—later on—as an intern, you will join communities built on the principles of open work. You will work with and on projects so impactful they’re are considered public goods. As such, your work will be built on the work of others that came before you—and your work will become a source of inspiration for others coming after you. Write for your community:

The idea of having something to teach others may sound strange to you. Maybe you've heard from others that you have nothing to offer—let me tell you, they're wrong. Your unique perspective can reveal so much about what we get right and what we get wrong about onboarding procedures, contribution processes, synchronous and asynchronous communication, and so on. Reading what you have to tell us is even more exciting when you're coming from a field that isn't tech! Humble us. You have a place in this space. I'll fight anyone who says otherwise.

What should I write about? #

If you’re an Outreachy applicant or a newcomer, here’s what I’d love to hear from you:

If you’re an Outreachy intern, here are some questions I’d love for you to answer:

And if you’re an Outreachy alum, I love reading about what happened after your internship: your struggles and accomplishments, your surprises and disappointments. Long form, short form, shitposts—anything goes. Just don’t be a stranger!

Thank you #

This October will mark 6 years working with Outreachy—that means I’ve been personally involved in the success of 655 internships as of September 2024. It’s incredible to say that my job is to give others the same or a better opportunity in tech than the one I was given 7 years ago. It feels like an accomplishment of a lifetime, but this is only the beginning of my career.

I’d like to thank you for the confidence in our work organizing such an impactful internship program. As you may know, Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion initiatives and non-profits are struggling this year. Some of them have completely closed down, some of them are downsizing significantly. Outreachy is also facing financial challenges — we had to decrease cohort sizes this year. If you've already written about your story with Outreachy and would like us to share it with the world: please send it to us! Reading and/or listening to them is what makes this job so worth it. It's what keeps me going.


  1. My experiences with gender identity, sexuality, disability, and language all have one thing in common: the struggle of feeling I was existing in between two different worlds or ways of being, but never truly fitting in; I wasn't (and never will be) one or the other—I'm something else entirely. ↩︎

  2. Reading what I wrote at that time always surprises me in the most beautiful ways—I'm often amazed and amused at how ambitious I already was. It reminds me of that Undertale quote: "Despite everything, it's still you." ↩︎