I’ve been working in the graphic design business since before I graduated from college back in 1998. This is just when digital layouts were taking hold and Quark Xpress was the layout application of choice (despite its constant crashing). In fact, I learned how to use Illustrator by having to digitally trace scanned camera ready illustrations to create vector files for a large surgical blade manufacturer as they transitioned to digital layouts. These things were legit: gouache on clay illustration board, with that little flap of tissue paper to keep them safe. Perfect for mastering that finicky Bezier tool. But, I digress.
Since those internship/junior designer days, I have worked the gamut of positions—from small, two-person design studios to large in-house departments, but have always kept my foot in the freelance pool. The reason I did so was, at first, the extra cash, then, as a stay-at-home mom of small children, the flexibility of schedule (and my sanity). Now, it’s something different: The work.
Not to brag, but through the years, I have logged enough accolades and hours to secure a rather high-ranking position in pretty much any marketing or design department. But, I’ve recently realized why I don’t want that. It’s no longer the flexibility and the whole, “I’m my own boss” benefit, though, those are nice too. Looking at the job descriptions of these higher management positions, I realize while I would gain an impressive title, I would lose the job satisfaction. My life would become all meetings and strategy, budget allocation and brand policing. With the better title, little remains of the work of a designer.
As a freelancer, not only do I have the luxury of choosing which projects and clients I work with, but I DO the work. I’m responsible for the creative direction and its execution, and that’s why I love what I do. So why would I give that up?
Not only do I enjoy this work, but my skills are in demand. Clients are tired of working with unseasoned contractors who die on the wrong hills when it comes to creative integrity. Every client I work with not only appreciates my aesthetic and end-product, but my professionalism and process.
For now, I’m not looking to climb the corporate ladder, just my own personal staircase (I’ve got to put the laundry in the dryer in a minute). And, I don’t see it as a lack of career ambition. I am channeling my years of experience to better the work I do, to invest in my own skills—not to supervise someone else’s.
The topic of Artificial Intelligence is a hot one when it comes to industry, government—even civilization. Its rapid development has made what is possible seem limitless. What does that mean for creatives? The answer is in the eye of the beholder.
I started as a graphic design intern in Boston during my junior summer in college, 1997. My first task was to take many camera-ready art boards for different surgical blade types and digitize them using Adobe Illustrator. Needless to say, I had some mad bezier pen tool skills by the end of my stint. This job, however, was a milestone not just for me, but for the design industry as a whole. We were turning a corner, moving beyond paper and pen to monitor and mouse. Many senior-level practitioners struggled to accept this new toolkit; many design schools still resist incorporating digital art into their curriculum.1 But, most embraced it, valuing its relative speed and ease, taking busywork our of the equation in order to open the door for bigger brainstorms. Over time, and despite the frustration with QuarkXpress’ tendency for quitting mid-layout without saving changes and Photoshop’s seemingly hourlong rasterization, designers came to appreciate the benefits of this modern-aged toolkit.
Today, the toolbox opens itself further to automation—the gifts of AI. Instead of spending time trolling the internet for various images that fit the idea in our brain and cobbling them together in Photoshop, we can just plug our criteria into an AI engine and, poof! Dog on a tricycle with a bird on its shoulders in no time. So, what is to stop our brilliant computers from replacing us as creatives all together? Simple. Who came up with that canine scenario to begin with?
A recent article featuring Scott and Jake Friedman addresses this very subject. Storytelling: the challenge with which clients task writers and designers. Take a message and communicate it in a unique and meaningful way that captures the attention of its intended audience. The best creatives do this with an elegance and innovation that we define as good taste.
I am not afraid of AI because of what I experienced in those early days of moving from camera-ready to digital files. We’ve been through this before. AI can not make something out of nothing. These engines pull from existing knowledge inputted from humans and their experience. Though ChatGPT may be able to create some stunningly witty copy for that next ad campaign, AI won’t have the nuanced skill and context to impart that essence of newness, individuality and experience that only humans can bring. As Jake Friedman puts it, creatives are the conductors of taste: “It’s a delicate skill but it’s utterly human—it’s the conductor who sets the tempo and brings everything together, making something cohesive out of a jumble of inputs.”
There may be a few years of adjustment, just like when digital layout tools were made widely available. Everyone will think they are a creative, because AI did what they asked it to do. Soon, however, clients will realize they do not have the same intuition and specificity we creatives hold. All of these plug-and-play logos will start looking the same, ad copy will keep using the same tired puns, and it won’t be long until we hear that familiar knock on the door. They will open their eyes to the limits of AI. Me, I’ll just see it as another tool in the box, one that hopefully won’t freeze my computer.
Contract work can be feast or famine. My workload is usually a small snack peppered by a random all-you-can-eat buffet. As of 2020, I’m a mom first, but love graphic design and have a lot of experience doing it, so I enjoy the challenges that sporadically come my way. I like to work. But, I don’t like feeling overwhelmed or stretched too thin. I also hate letting people down. So, saying “no” has never been a strength of mine. All of this can lead to a lot of stress and hard choices (not to mention many grey hairs) if not managed well. Over the years, I have learned how best to evaluate which project mix is best, and what I need to kindly decline. Perhaps surprisingly, it’s not always the projects with the highest payday that make the A list. Here’s why:
1 A Thanksgiving turkey would be nothing without the sides.
What designer doesn’t want to design a big glossy magazine, multi-tear website, an entire branding system, or fun series of packaging? All at the same time? Not fun. I like to remember advice that my sister-in-law gave me when she was teaching me how to knit: Always have a couple of projects on the needles. That way, you won’t get bored. I also like to remember that design is only a part of my life. There are other demands on my time that are equally, if not more, important than whatever project comes my way.
So my advice: remember the sides. If you have a few projects to choose from, take a big juicy one, but throw some fries on that plate as well. Now, this could be a bigger project too, but maybe it has a looser timeline, so you won’t be working full throttle on both at the same time. Maybe, it’s updating a website you did a while back in addition to that 24-page catalogue. It could also mean working with a familiar client while working with a new one. You know what you can give and take from the known, but a new one may need a little more active attention.
2 Saying “no” doesn’t have to mean “goodbye.”
Trust me. Business people are used to hearing “no” a lot. If you handle it well, they’ll return to you with the hopes that the timing will be better next time. How do you do this? Flattery, and then, what I like to call, “explanation light.” Don’t overwhelm them with details about why you can’t help them out. Just thank them for thinking of you and tell them you’d really welcome the opportunity to work with them in the future, but your docket is already full. That’s all. Further explanation will just waste their time and doesn’t change the end result. They may even leave the conversation a little impressed that you are so in demand—they have good taste!
Additionally, give them a time when they can return to you and then reach out to them at that time instead of waiting for them to make the first move. This shows them that you really do want to work with them, and you were counting down the days as to when you could see their lovely address in your inbox again.
3 Play favorites (with projects, not people).
How you mix up your workload should depend on a longer-term way of thinking. If you start to get busier, take a breath and look at what’s on your plate. Are the projects helping to serve your portfolio or develop the skills you would like to see improve? Is the client pleasant and easy to work with, appreciative of your skill as a professional, respectful of your opinion? If you are successfully growing your business, you’ll have the luxury of being a little pickier. Think of your portfolio like a vision board. If the only things pinned on your wall are projects that just pay the bills or take forever to finish, then maybe you should rethink the mix. What do you want that wall to look like and then take the projects that help you reach that goal.
I realize none of this is rocket science, but it helps to have someone remind you that it’s OK to say “no”—especially for us people-pleasers. As long as the reason you’re turning work down (or taking work on) helps you to feel satisfied in where your business, time and energy are being directed.
Three tips on how to keep your perspective part of the conversation and when to take a look at things from someone else’s.
Speaking from my experience, when I was starting out in the business world as a design intern, then a junior designer, then a full-time legit designer, and so on, my ability to contribute to discussions and listen to feedback evolved over the years in a meaningful way. If I could go back and have a chat with intern-me, I would give her this advice:
You’re not always right.
This one is the hardest to learn. You may feel with your heart and soul that there is no way on this planet, in any state of consciousness, that you could be wrong or misguided in a particular instance, but I’m here to tell you, it’s bound to happen. That’s part of design. It’s a subjective industry. So if someone is disagreeing with your choice of PMS color, your font size, or patterned background, listen to them. A lot of the times, they may have a point. It is worth taking a moment, a breath, and learning from the perspective being presented to you as that person’s experience is just as valid as yours.
This one goes both ways. Sometimes you will receive feedback from a superior, someone with more experience. But that doesn’t mean they are the end-all-be-all in opinions. In a good working relationship, you should be able to push back without losing respect or stepping on someone’s toes. Be confident and reasoned in your choices, and when someone with more experience questions them, be prepared to fight the good fight. But always remember my first tip. It’s a tango of wills. If you’re a pushover every time someone leans on you, then they aren’t going to see who you really are, what you have to bring to the table. They may even start believing you are undertrained. On the other hand, if you are the one who is always holding on to your ideas with a death grip and with whom no one wants to speak for fear they may lose a finger, your potential as a team player will greatly diminish—which could hurt you more in the long run, no matter how good your ideas are. It’s corny, but there really is no “i” in “team.”
At the end of the day, what you do for your job is important but not that important.
I probably should whisper this one. It’s like I’m revealing the recipe to the secret sauce. There’s a fine line between being passionate about what you do, and letting that drive rule your life. I am not saying that you shouldn’t put your all into what you do, every time you do it. What I am saying is that when you are young, perhaps unattached, it is easy to invest your passion in your job, completely, without any of the negative consequences that come along as you get older. I have a friend who joined a gym close to her work—not for exercise—just so she would have a place to shower the next morning when she ended up sleeping at the office. Some people (especially women and minorities, who are sadly still having to justify their positions of power) will keep this level of commitment even after their lives are further complicated, nay, enriched, by partners and kids and hobbies as they get older. Awesome. Do it if you can and your family supports it, but also know that you are allowed to afford yourself a break. Candles don’t last long when burned from both ends.
If you are a go-getter who wants to put 1,000 percent into your job and live your dream, you will most likely be successful and rise up that corporate ladder. Just be prepared for all of the services you’ll most likely have to purchase in order to keep the rest of your life afloat. Doing so, in no means, connotes a personal failure. It’s the cost of doing business in a society that isn’t well set up for family-minded people who would like to present their project to the client, but also be out on time to catch their daughter’s little league game. At the end of the day, just ask yourself before you turn out the lights, “is the person I am today who I want to be?” And, be honest in your answer. If the answer is No, look at ways to introduce some balance, even if it means supporting your local food delivery drivers a little more often, or creating an online group of neighborhood working families to exchange ideas, frustrations, and carpools. Chances are, these days, that the client you are preparing that presentation for also has a little league game she needs to get to.
It may be a little hard to see how that last tip has anything to do with how to keep your perspective part of the conversation, but it whole heartedly does. If you don’t let the other parts of your life start to inform how you behave or contribute at work, you are setting up a dual personality that will be hard to sustain. If memory serves, Dr. Jekyl didn’t turn out so well. Realize and relish in the fact that our walls between work and home are blurring. At first, that was scary. We always wanted to keep work and home separate, but when, for many of us, working from home became a health requirement, the world began to realize that we’re not all that different. Even CEOs have cats who photobomb a Zoom call. Treating others the way you want to be treated, including giving others the break you would like afforded to you next time your child’s science experiment permanently alters your home’s floor plan will only help us all keep in mind the humanity behind the creativity we bring forward. The messy, flammable humanity.
Jessica Schindhelm Design 