Professional practice takes practice

As the year gets underway, it’s important to stop and ask yourself what inspires you. The answer might be closer than you realize.

In the last issue of Artichoke I wrote about the value of design, arguing that we need to shift our thinking about how it is communicated and understood, especially given the shifts in our own approaches – designers don’t just use design in order to make “stuff,” we use design to make stuff happen. (Well, I’m pleased to say some “stuff” certainly happened in response to that comment!) Since its publication, many of you have been in touch, sharing how this simple statement made a personal impact, offering a moment of validation that you’re on the right path, that what you do is recognized and that it matters. Of course, this is all very gratifying for the ego, but more importantly it gave me renewed inspiration.

And so with the advent of another new year (and, let’s face it, by now several abandoned but well-intentioned resolutions), I thought it appropriate to share with you what inspires me, and what I hope will inspire each of you in the coming months. This may sound trite, but I continue to be inspired to show up by the small, incidental day-to-day interactions – when I speak with you about what is important right now in your practice, when I read about your work on social media or in the mainstream press, or even when a user of design1 comments on just how much they appreciate that product or service. Every time a DIA member gains recognition for what they do, I’m proud on your behalf. All of those seemingly insignificant moments, outside of formally recognized success measures or standards, are what really matter and what fuel the profession.

I’ve written several times in the past about how much being part of a community of practice matters in order to support, equip and advocate for the benefit of the profession. The DIA offers you the company of like-minded designers, and through our networks and relationships, connects you to a much wider global community. The more time I spend working in the design industry, the more I come to appreciate its uniqueness. Designers are generous people, enthusiastic about the work we do, encouraging of the efforts of our fellow practitioners, hardworking (understatement of the century), highly innovative and creative thinkers, practical problem solvers, incurably curious and, overall, driven by a desire to improve the human condition through and by design. That last statement may seem grandiose, but when you get down to it, that seems to me to be the unifying factor across all the disciplines. Designers see the world as it is and imagine how it could be. And then we roll up our sleeves and go about making it happen.

The knowledge that my peers are getting on with the job is a powerful motivator! Looking across the broad spectrum of our membership, I draw my inspiration from myriad sources. I’m inspired by our emerging designers, those new to the profession who have struggled through the intense pressure cooker of tertiary study to gain their qualifications and who now find themselves with a new challenge, that of getting a foothold in a competitive environment. The joy that comes with finally gaining their first role, or taking the plunge to set up their own studio straight off, is truly infectious. Next time you feel like you’ve seen it all, go visit a graduate show to refresh your world view.

Designers who’ve been around the block a few times, taken some knocks, made some mistakes, and yet still show up and remain in business – now that is inspiring. When you’re starting out, everyone is tolerant of the odd stuff-up, but when you’ve been out there for a while, somehow you’re expected to get it right every time, because that’s professional, right? Plenty of people talk about the need to embrace failure as a learning opportunity, but I can tell you, it’s hard to see that in the moment when you just want to sink through the floor with embarrassment – or emigrate to Mars. When it all seems a bit dismal, take comfort in the knowledge that professional practice takes practice.

I’m continually inspired by those I affectionately term the “design elder network,” those of you who trained in the days when computers were pretty much still fancy adding machines, and your skills with a pencil, brush and T-square were your stock in trade. You were the instigators of our professional associations, formed on the belief that collectively, designers could have a voice, and that that voice could have an impact to better our working lives and achieve recognition for the fledgling profession of design. The generosity of spirit you bring to your engagement with the rest of us, your continued interest and enthusiasm for what is happening in the changing landscape of design and, most of all, your deep affection for the DIA over many years is deeply humbling.

What I hope will inspire you as you pitch into another year of impossible deadlines and client wrangling, is that the Australian design community remains vibrant, that professional practice takes practice, and most importantly, that we’ve got your back. a

1. Let’s face it, “user of design” means anyone, but it’s great when the user makes the connection that a trained professional actually designed that “thing” they are using.