Saturday, February 24, 2018

Learning from Yucatán and Quintana Roo

As we started driving out of Cancún, I couldn't help looking for patterns. How is this place the same or different from the parts of the U.S. and Germany that I know? After a week with my family in Valladolid, Tulum, and Playa del Carmen, I still have more questions than answers.

In Puerto Morelos yesterday, I bought a book called "Mañana Forever? Mexico and the Mexicans" from a lovely bookstore called Alma Libre. I'll see if I can put together some answers.

I'm not looking for the "national character" of Mexico or of any place, just patterns of prevailing beliefs of the people who live there. Before diving into that book, here are my initial observations and hypotheses.

More people smile back to me in Mexico than in San Francisco.

People spend more time face to face with friends and acquaintances. They share a vehicle, sit together without devices, talk and laugh. I saw three young women in the Tulum library doing crafts together.

People "give it everything they've got" as [xxxx] put it in [xxxx link]. Yet they also rest more consistently.

People spend a lot of their time tired or happy or both. Most don't try to hide these feelings, except in more polished service jobs, where they put on happy faces like in the U.S. with which they only partially convince themselves and their patrons.

People living in shacks across the street from our Tulum hotel are certainly poor, but in a particular way which rarely exists in the San Francisco Bay Area. The closest I've seen was the squatter settlement on Albany Bulb before it was shut down. These are working poor people, in a lifestyle which could be sustainable if job and health allow. The book [squatter cities xxxx] has influenced my perceptions.

Like anywhere, the written rules and the unwritten ones overlap and coexist. I would like to learn the different ways Mexicans feel and talk about rules and laws.

Official communications from the government make it sound like Mexicans are proud of their government institutions, but I haven't yet noticed that vibe from individuals. National treasures like Chichén Itsá and Sian Ka'an are possible exceptions.

I talked the most with Joaquín. He is writing a multilingual primer on a contemporary Mayan language. Mayans are proud of their culture, but resent a pattern of lack of access to opportunities.

People resent smug entrenched wealth, represented not just by US tourists like me but also by Mexican oligarchs and corporations. When I am kind, someone like Santos our boat pilot can feel good about me as a person while continuing to resent the inaccessible wealth that I represent. Building these bridges requires two people to communicate; it doesn't extend to two degrees of separation.

I expected conversations to land more decisively on English or Spanish. It took me a few days to become comfortable switching between Spanish and English within a single conversation or even a single thought, whatever got the message across. This pattern was quite common where we were.

Only in our last evening in Playa del Carmen I realized that the insulated tourist zones are legitimately part of Mexico, just as San Francisco is so different yet a genuine part of the United States. (Moxie convinced me over dinner.)

These are all first impressions. I've not had enough experiences to be confident about any of these generalizations, even within the communities I visited.

Monday, October 02, 2017

Is disclosing ADHD a good idea? Let's find out

It's time. In recognition of World Mental Health Day and ADHD Awareness Month, I've decided to start telling everybody about my ADHD brain.

For people who know me, the revelation that I go off on mental tangents might be the least surprising news of the day. Yet I struggled with the decision to say "I have ADHD" out loud in a public forum, and I won't claim that disclosure is for everybody.

According to a 2015 survey of ADHD disclosure, respondents were evenly split on whether outcomes in the workplace were positive or negative. "The severity of negative outcomes varied. Some were fired, passed over for promotion, ridiculed, or the ADHD disclosure was ignored by the employer and no attempts were made to implement or offer accommodations."

On the other hand, it's easier and safer for me to talk about my ADHD than it is for a lot of other people. As a white male in the United States, I started at a spot near the front of the line which I never earned. Maybe because of a strong moral compass that I got from my parents, my impulsivity has always made me look like a goody-goody, instead of taking me in less productive directions. I'm blessed with strong literacy and analytical skills, for which I'm particularly grateful since others with ADHD are not so fortunate. Today I work in a growing specialty field called digital accessibility (auto-play video) where my colleagues celebrate our diversity every day. With a lot of luck, and some hard work especially in recent years, my life looks like a success story according to today's mainstream norms.

The stigmas around ADHD are unacceptable, and hiding just reinforces them. So if I don't take this risk, who will?

Ask me questions. Don't worry about how to phrase the questions. It'll be fine. I used to be less-than-completely comfortable talking about this, but only because I was managing who knows and who doesn't. Now that I've blogged about it, I've shed that layer of hesitation.

Friday, February 26, 2016

Can JavaScript set a Sequential Focus Navigation Starting Point?

This is a follow-up from my last blog post. Should a web author be able to explicitly set a Sequential Focus Navigation Starting Point using JavaScript?

There are several reasons why the answer should be "yes."

It can improve user experience in some cases

Today, for accessibility it's often necessary to set focus on a div or static text. If browsers and assistive technologies will provide a consistent experience for anchor links, then instead of setting focus on non-actionable content, it would be more like native browser behavior to set a Sequential Focus Navigation Starting Point. In such cases users would expect to see the element in the viewport, so the author should also use Element.scrollIntoView().

Less often, this same technique can solve a usability problem when JavaScript sets focus on a text input. In devices with virtual keyboards (iOS Safari at least), input.focus() causes the virtual keyboard to appear. This is appropriate in some cases, where the design intent is to strongly prompt the user to enter something. But what if the intent is only to start the user at a logical spot in the form? For example, after the user cancels out of a modal dialog. In this case using JavaScript to set a Sequential Focus Navigation Starting Point would provide a better experience.

It conforms to WCAG 2.0 as well as anchor links do

I've never heard of failing Success Criterion 2.4.3 Focus Order or 2.4.7 Focus Visible because of the browser-default behavior of anchor links. This JavaScript technique would do the same thing.

There are good technical precedents

Setting window.location.href creates the same effect as a user clicking a link to a new page.

In most browsers, Element.focus() creates the same effect as a user clicking an anchor link to land on a focusable element.

So if JavaScript can create the effect of an anchor link landing on a non-focusable element, it would be very consistent with those existing capabilities.

It might already work

When an element has focus, then the expected behavior of Element.blur() -- after Chromium issue 454172 -- is to create a Sequential Focus Navigation Starting Point.

So what should happen if the author invokes Element.blur() on an element that does not currently have focus? The logical consequence would be for this element to become the Sequential Focus Navigation Starting Point.

I could live with this counterintuitive behavior of Element.blur(), like we've all learned to live with tabindex="-1". I'm also open to adding a more aptly named method to browser-native JavaScript.