An ongoing series about how and why I persisted in college
Not perfect, but definitely telling a story.
I didn’t have mentors as much as I had encouragers, but maybe that’s the same thing. I’ve mentioned previously in my documentation of persistence how my years as a yearbook designer in high school influenced my college choice and career path. I was very fortunate to have a yearbook advisor/art teacher in high school who gave me opportunities to learn about design along with avenues to hone my leadership skills. I never felt pressured to pursue the next leadership position or attend another journalism and design camp, but the opportunities were always presented to me in a way that I knew I would enjoy it. I guess I felt that encouragement and just went along for the ride!
As a creative, I feel unique in the sense that I work well with defined structure and outcomes. I like knowing the rules so that I can also thoughtfully and intentionally break those rules. This is also why I’ve often struggled to feel like a true creative at times. I’m not crafty or gifted at drawing. However, I’ve always felt a sense of calm designing page layouts. There’s an element of structure there that fits well with my personality. As the design editor of the yearbook, I had the opportunity to create a cohesive design and then implement systems for the section designers to follow. I became confident in leading a team of students to write, edit, design, and photograph a book the student body would feel honored to carry their memories in. These opportunities wouldn’t have happened without the guidance and encouragement from my yearbook teacher.
During my senior year, alongside being the design editor of the yearbook, I took an independent art class (same teacher for both yearbook and art). I can remember my teacher telling me I should think about illustrating a children’s book because of some of the artwork themes I was turning in for class. Mainly I had a thing for telling stories that tended to feel a bit whimsical, with maybe a touch of darkness that often included bandana-clad turtles and humans in cut-off jeans and tie-dye shirts. It was the 90s after all. Honestly, I never really considered myself artistic, still don’t. So while I don’t believe I thought too deeply about that sentiment at the time, I’m positive there was insecurity there. Knowing my teacher found joy in some of my artwork was inspiring. Having her encourage me and find ways for me to grow in different design and leadership skills shows just how much she thought of my abilities. In the spirit of autoethnography, it makes sense I’m beginning to uncover some root thoughts about how I viewed myself.
In my first year of college as a journalism graphics major at Ball State, surrounded by an excess of boring core classes was the one course I was excited about: JOUR 125 Communication Graphics. I remember learning how to use the latest graphic design software and put it to use designing a magazine feature spread. I designed my spread to feature Michael Stipe (just another reason to love the 90s). The introductory design course was taught by a slender, tall woman with short, spiky blond hair whose smile was infectious and whose words were filled with encouragement. I remember she was working towards her BFA, and I looked up to her (literally and figuratively) for the creative energy she seemed to possess. So it was an honor one day when she told me, you’re too creative for only designing newspaper spreads. Designing newspaper spreads was the core of the journalism graphics department in the 90s. The campus paper, The Daily News consistently won design awards during that time. Designing for The Daily News and then going on to work for a paper was supposed to be the gold standard goal of every journalism graphics major. While I did find some fun in designing newspaper feature pages, my gold standard goal was to be the design editor of a fashion magazine like Sassy. For my professor to spur me on in that direction gave me a big boost of confidence.
On the flip side, during my senior year of college, the faculty advisor for my journalism graphics program was limited in her view of what I could do with my major after graduation and gave me poor advice. She told me the “creative” jobs were for the graphic design fine art majors, not the journalism graphics majors. She said I wouldn’t find jobs designing magazines and logos and I should only look for newspaper jobs. I left her office annoyed and determined. And while it pushed on my insecurity about whether I was actually creative enough for the industry I wanted to pursue, I was motivated by my first professor’s words of encouragement, Jayne, you’re too creative for only designing newspaper spreads. I knew I could be more, and if anything I was determined to prove that faculty advisor wrong.
I graduated with a degree in journalism graphics and worked many years as a graphic designer before teaching myself photography and starting my own photography business. The creative journey I’ve taken still comes down to sometimes feeling like an outsider as a creative. As mentioned earlier, I feel rare as a creative who works well with defined structure and outcomes. I like knowing the rules so I can also thoughtfully and intentionally break those rules. I approach photography similar to how the Impressionists approached painting. They first learned realism from the masters and then rebelled to create images that spoke to their hearts. College taught me designers come in all shapes and sizes. Finding freedom even within defined structures doesn’t make me any less of a designer. And the fact I can still remember my professor motivating me with her words of encouragement almost 30 years after she spoke them, is a testimony to the power of encouraging words.
Read on: Persistence 1 • Persistence 2 • Persistence 3
Comments