The credit isn't yours
My career started because I got into graphic design as a teenager. That led into me being a product designer today.
I got my first internship at a screen printing shop, and things took off from there.
I did good work, showed up on time, and used it as a launching pad for my life.
But that's not the whole picture.
I got the internship because my boss was friends with my teacher at a graphic art class I'd been taking. My teacher saw my work, and recommended me for the role.
Throughout the winter months I'd been learning tools of the trade, dedicating time to figuring things out Adobe Illustrator, silk screen printing, and principles of design. I'd showed a ton of interest and passion for everything related to graphic art.
But that's not the whole picture.
My teacher was someone I'd known through church.
And the only reason I could come to the class was because my mom, and a friend, helped drive me and my brother to and from school each day.
But let's go back further.
I was interested in graphic design because I'd been playing Neopets with my brothers and wanted to draw the creatures on my own. So I opened up Macromedia Flash 4, and recreated illustrations—painstakingly line-by-line—until my family couldn't tell the original from the copy.
But the only reason I had Flash on my computer was because my older brother, always the tinkerer and curios mind, had figured out how to get me a—shall we say—found version online. He knew how to sail digitally, and gave me some of the loot from his adventures.
But there's more.
I only had my own computer—an old slow machine that lay directly under my CRT monitor—because the state of California gave out a small stipend each year to home school students who signed up for the public Charter school.
I had the time to pursue art and creativity. I spent time learning my craft, understanding tools, and stumbling through help pages to understand how a bézier pen worked. This was before YouTube even existed.
It was fun, and I did it for the joy of it.
I could go on. Our mom invested a ton of money to get us a full fledged family computer in 1997; which opened the door to learning how to use these tools. I had brothers with as much curiosity as myself who shared what they found, and we pushed each other to learn and grow. And tons of people along the way lent help and guidance and encouragement.
But it goes back further.
I remember finding a drawing I liked as a child, holding it up to a sliding glass door to allow the light to shine through, and placing a piece of paper over that to trace its likeness. After some time I found success. And I was encouraged to keep trying.
Art and design have always been interesting to me. And yes, I've pushed myself to pursue it. But I've also had help. There's been so many people, so many steps, so much care gone into the community that it takes for just one person to develop themselves into tools that can take a career.
And that only gets me to about 16 years old.
This year I turn 39.
I've been thinking a lot lately about taking credit for when something good happens to someone else. I don't think we should, even when it's true.
When someone is successful there's a million reasons for it. They did good, others did good, good happened to them.
What we can do is appreciate and observe and support, and smile when something good happens to a person we care for. We can hope that we were a small part in it. I think it's good to think less about taking credit, and focus more on helping.
Though I still have many years ahead of me in my career, things like this have me wondering how I can help people who are getting started.
The world is a lot different than it was twenty years ago. Back then I could thrill my boss with knowing how to trace over a t-shirt logo so that we could split out the colors and re-print it. Now you can do that with a single button.
It's a new world, and it's changed so fast. I'm hoping that I can help be the encouragement and support for younger people trying to figure this out. Sometimes that's all it takes, a little nudge.