I have a confession to make: after thirteen years in the Python community and countless technical talks attended and organized, this is the first time I'm putting myself out there to talk about community itself. It feels vulnerable. It feels necessary.

How it started

My journey began the way many do—volunteering. Stuffing badge holders, directing people to rooms, answering the same question about Wi-Fi passwords a hundred times. It wasn't glamorous, but it was transformative. Volunteering was my first taste of what it means to contribute to something larger than myself, and it opened doors I didn't even know existed.

Back then, I came for the code. I had no idea I'd stay for the people.

More than code

Through thirteen years, the Python community taught me things I carry with me everywhere. Things that have nothing to do with syntax or libraries.

The value of patience and kindness when someone asks a "basic" question—because we were all beginners once. The importance of explicit inclusion, because "everyone is welcome" means nothing without deliberate action. The power of mentorship, both giving and receiving. The understanding that community health requires active maintenance, not passive hope.

This is what "stay for the people" actually means.

Who this talk is for

Having attended and organized Python conferences for years, I've noticed something consistent: there are always newcomers. People experiencing their first Python event, unsure of what to expect, wondering if they belong. This talk is for them.

But it's also for anyone thinking about community engagement—whether in Developer Relations, open source maintainership, or simply as someone who cares about the spaces they inhabit.

Looking forward

I don't have all the answers. I want to end with questions rather than conclusions. How do we engage with a generation that communicates differently? How do we preserve depth in an age of fragmented attention? What can newcomers teach us about building community in ways we haven't imagined?

My hope is that this talk sparks conversations that continue long after I leave the stage. And honestly? I hope to revisit this topic in ten years and see how wrong—or right—we were.