How could anyone resist being enchanted by so much enthusiasm, so much passion and dedication? It felt like a privilege to be at the Libre Graphics Meeting and sense so much energy and warmth. Even though I didn't understand all of the technical details, it was good to hear the people who make the tools I use talk about them, how they make them, how much they care about them. I found myself wondering how many other people in the room felt the same way. I wished I could bring everyone who uses these tools for the work they care about into this space, urge them to listen, to think about how we, as users, can respond to this dedication and commitment, find other ways to share in the responsibility. How much room is there at the LGM for "users"? Or is that even the right question? Maybe the conventional categorization of "developers" and "users" doesn't quite fit in the realm of free software, maybe it gets in the way of more useful and meaningful communication. Listening to people talk about their work, hearing their pleasure in being able to share that attention to detail with others who understand, I can see the great need for a meeting like this for people to discuss technical details and developments with others who understand and are able to engage with the issues in a meaningful and informed way. Appreciation is important, but it is not always sufficient, just as it is possible to collaborate remotely in ways that are intense, enjoyable and productive, but sometimes it can make a huge difference to be able to meet in person, at least briefly, as well. What I found especially striking in the run-up to the LGM was the warmth and affection among the members that was quite tangible as people began arriving. As encouraging and heart-warming as this was to observe, it naturally also raises questions about inclusion and exclusion that discussions of numbers and "quotas" can't even touch. As an old feminist, when I looked around I couldn't help but notice that it all seemed strongly male dominated. But these are such nice men, does it matter? Still as an old feminist, I believe it does, but I find this difficult to address without exacerbating the situation. The women who gave presentations and ran things don't need extra mention simply because they are female, they are obviously very good at what they do. Nevertheless, I wished there were more women, so that those who were there might seem less conspicuous. Of the seven presentations by women, only two were specifically about technical issues. This also feels uncomfortable. It is well known, of course, that there is generally a low percentage of women in computing, and the numbers are even lower for Open Source/Free Software. No one was talking about that at LGM, at least not that I heard, and somehow I have an uneasy sense that it would almost feel unfair to bring it up now, as though it would sound like a reproach that would be misdirected at the men there. Yet how could it work to encourage women – not just young women, but women of all ages – to come and listen and feel inspired to want to be part of this and to take a more active part? At some point, a group of us there affiliated with Genderchangers realized that we could have, perhaps should have given some kind of presentation as well. Why didn't that occur to us until it was too late? This is a question we have to ask ourselves, of course, but I think there is still also the question of how it might have been conveyed earlier (or maybe for next time) that we probably would have been welcomed and listened to, that what we do can be appreciated in a context like this. In terms of age, there appeared to be a very broad distribution among the male participants, which seemed less the case among the female participants, who were clearly listening attentively, but not speaking up much, although those who did were listened to and heard. With a more mixed audience, would it have felt slightly less jarring, for example, to hear a young man talking about "old women", as though "old women" were an alien, barely intelligible species? He meant well, of course, his talk was delightfully enthusiastic, and I imagine he didn't mean me (I don't know anything about knitting or quilting, after all), but I know from experience what it feels like to be identified and treated as a member of this alien species in other contexts, and I wonder how it might feel if there were more of us, a visible, palpable presence, listening to a talk like this. There seemed to be ample and welcoming room for all kinds of "other" here, but I have an uneasy sense that "other" is still "other" – even when welcomed. Is it necessary for an assembly like LGM to be completely inclusive? To make an explicit effort to be inclusive? Being there, listening to the conversations and presentations, I'm not sure how necessary that might really be. Especially for people who collaborate remotely and work a great deal on their own, the work can take a giant leap very quickly, when people have a chance to meet in person, in the flesh, face to face, sitting at a table together using hands and feet and facial expressions and any objects on the table or the screen to communicate. This is especially true when people working together don't necessarily share a common language or at least not to the same degree. And I know from my own experience how good it can be to be able to talk about more obscure details with someone who really understands and shares that passion – the way violin makers talk about varnish and hide glue, the way I sometimes need to have in-depth conversations about punctuation marks. It is usually a futile exercise for musicians who play the violin to attempt to engage in a violin makers' discussion about varnish or hide glue, but they should hear those kinds of intense and passionate debates to appreciate the kind of skill and dedication that goes into making the instruments they play, listening as a form of expressing respect. Conversely, of course, who could really make master violins without wanting to hear the music played on violins? But sometimes violin makers just need to discuss varnish and hide glue in ways that make other mortals beings' eyes glaze over with incomprehension very quickly. Is it really even possible to balance these kinds of different needs in the realm of free software within the framework of a gathering like LGM? A desire to do so certainly seemed evident in Brussels. Perhaps that desire needs to be more clearly articulated – but articulated by whom to whom? In analogy to instrument makers and musicians, there are, of course, software "developers" and "users", but as much as this dichotomy clearly applies in the realm of commercial software, it was most encouraging to hear it questioned – even if a bit hesitantly – at LGM. Some people make the tools, some people use the tools, sometimes the boundaries blur. I'm interested particularly in how this gray area might be made more productive, perhaps as another difference between free software and proprietary software, for communication, for exchanging insights, needs, mutual respect and responsibility. To me it seems that there are several points where issues blur in ways that are less helpful. On the one hand, the cultural sector (broadly speaking) has often adopted the idea of "F(L)OSS" with a rather romantic notion of "open to everyone", which tends to elide inequalities of access at many different levels, and gloss over real and different skill sets that are a prerequisite for participation and responsibility. (1) In this context, I have serious doubts about how useful the term F(L)OSS is. I understand a desire to avoid polarization and endless ideological arguments, but there are indeed very different, not necessarily compatible issues, intentions and goals at the root of the difference between Open Source and Free Software. (2) Glossing over those differences with a purportedly neutral term can easily pave the way to more damaging and complex divisions when those differences do become more evident. It seems to me that since the name "Libre Graphics Meeting" neatly avoids choosing sides or adopting an ambiguous and not entirely satisfactory third option, there might be more room for honest exchanges about the intentions and goals pursued by the various members. Thinking about the people I met in Brussels makes me feel more optimistic about that possibility. This thought, however, also brings me a bit closer to what I perceived as an elephant in the room. As fascinating as it was to listen to people describing how they ran into a barrier in what they were trying to do and took "time out" to grapple with it until they were able to find a feasible solution, I admit that I also sometimes felt a twinge of envy. Who can afford – in every sense of the word – to do that? Of course, the problems, for which we take all the time required to solve them, are a matter of personal choice – but also of personal responsibilities, obligations, constraints of all kinds. At the least, everyone needs to pay the rent and buy groceries, right? I found myself becoming more and more curious about how all the different people at LGM manage to organize their lives so that they have the freedom to be able to do what they do so well. Listening in on the encouraging and well informed discussion about the possibility of forming something like an association or a foundation was illuminating. The difficulties of trying to earn a living working on free software seemed to be common knowledge, just as it is clear that there is no easy solution. This is an issue I would wish to see discussed openly, collectively, cooperatively. In a kind of analogy to the point explicitly made by Florian Cramer and implicitly by others, that free software is not merely a no/low-cost substitute for existing commercial products, perhaps that kind of discussion might be able to open up different possibilities for sharing resources, or at least for mutual support and encouragement in finding ways to balance needs, interests and commitments that do not simply follow the conventional logic of figuring out how to earn money working on something that is (ambiguously) free. Of course, there are no simple answers and easy solutions, but the software is not a result of simple solutions and solo achievements either. If there is a group that might be able to overcome conventional "lone hacker hero" attitudes, I would not be surprised to find that the LGM is it. Looking not only at the results, but also at the contexts providing fertile conditions for the processes leading to these results, might also strengthen the foundation for exchanges among people working on the software and those working with the software without further cementing the dichotomy of "developers/users" with its implicit gender divide. Or maybe I'm just a dreamer. Nevertheless, my experience at the Libre Graphics Meeting certainly suggests that dreaming is not just a waste of time. Notes: (1)The adoption of "Open Source" ideals in the field of culture was succinctly outlined by Felix Stalder with further references in: "On the Differences Between Open Source and Open Culture", http://publication.nodel.org/On-the-Differences (2)There are countless articles and blog posts about this issue, and the relevant Wikipedia talk pages reflect much of the complexities and controversies involved. One early example of a concise and lucid explanation of the differences is: Eben Moglen, "Free Software Matters: Free Software or Open Source?", http://emoglen.law.columbia.edu/my_pubs/lu-07.html