What Design School Didn’t Prepare Me For

Hero or villain, everyone’s your teacher.

In this honest reflection, I share about a workplace that helped me grow in more ways than one.

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I’ve always been very creative. I was an artsy kid who loved the indoors, struggled through classes, and gravitated towards graphic design in high school. I dropped wretched maths as soon as possible and made up my units by doing a design course at Billy Blue during the holidays. It opened my eyes.

I started college with an interest in layout design and left with a new wealth of program understanding. But I needed more than that. Knowing what I wanted to bring to the world and how I'd do it was knowledge I had yet to find. 

As a wide-eyed 19-year-old design graduate, I had high expectations for my new adventure into the world of work. 

After spending various entry-level jobs as the sole graphic designer, I was depleted and uninspired. I thought I'd made a horrible mistake and decided to quit whilst searching for my real creative purpose. The world of work was much harsher than I'd thought it'd be.

During this break, I realised how much I missed my newfound career path and decided to give it another go. But, I would not be returning to a grey company again; I would work hard on my portfolio, overcome my fear of phone calls, and get a job at a proper design studio. 

And that I did. 

At last, I'd found my first mentor: the most thorough man I'd ever met. 

He was a man of medium height and significant stature, with a head relatively large for his size, topped off with short dark brown hair, shaved on both sides, wrapping his face with thick, smudge-free, black spectacles. He looked like a nerdy chipmunk. His outfits were on weekly rotation: a checkered shirt and tan chinos, constantly munching on a bright red apple with a determined demeanour. Seeing this outfit now on other men triggers me deeply.

It wasn't just his presentation that was neat and considered; he lived and breathed organisation, from how he arranged his desk to how his studio ran. First in, last out. He even accounted for bathroom breaks in his timesheets.

I marvelled at his structure and time management, as I was a scattered young adult who could never focus on one thing at a time. My school report cards were littered with phrases like 'off with the fairies', 'lots of potential', and 'artistic temperament'.

I looked up to him for the structure I needed so badly. This was undoubtedly the place for me; perfect, divine, and right on time.

He set me up with the foundations of design, one thousand per cent more than my single year at design school did. I could see moulding me from the ground up brought him great fulfilment, too. He was a great teacher and very patient initially whilst I fumbled through it.

I grew my skills in designing restaurant menus and posters, as his clientele were mainly restaurants in Circular Quay. He went into extraneous detail, showing me his InDesign file setup and challenged me to recreate his work to the pixel. If I made a mistake, he'd get me to redo it until it was 100% perfect, even if it took all day. '100% accuracy rate' was his motto.

A thorough man, indeed.

Because I was driven to learn and improve, I overlooked many alarming things in the studio's culture. The dynamic between him and his wife (who worked with us) set the tone for the day, often turning the atmosphere into a thick electric cloud. This man had a profound temper, and I often wouldn't know what would set him off, so I danced around topics for fear of getting yelled at or belittled. And when it wasn't me, it was just as uncomfortable watching it happen to someone else.

I overlooked the cleaning duties he gave me, asking the other employees to leave their dishes for me. I overlooked him telling me my nail polish colour aged me ten years and to dress more feminine. I also overlooked him putting me down in front of the team, yelling at me until I apologised for something I didn't remember doing. He often made me feel crazy, saying he told me one thing and that I must've forgotten. After ignorantly disclosing I was in counselling, he told me what to work on in my sessions—"If it comes up...". I overlooked these things because I thought I needed him, and he knew best.

When I figured out what game he was playing, I learned and abided by the rules. I later realised I was doing myself a great disservice by playing along.

After two years at this studio, I was a great designer. I'd hit the ceiling and wanted to make a new mark on the world. This shift in me must've been noticeable because it was when the studio walls started closing in. My desire to do more, and in my own way, did something profoundly ugly to this man, and his target was me.

No longer was I his starry-eyed protagé; I was the enemy. And as I started making suggestions, I realised how short my leash was. I caught how much he put me down, trying to contain the junior he'd raised. I was far from the equal I sought to be. 

Every day felt like I was being chained to a roller coaster. He threw out the rules to his own game and went rogue. What mood would he thicken the air with today? I tried to stay in my lane, but he didn't want that. He needed me to need him.

I saw the same psychologist throughout this period and started practising new conversation tactics. Boy, did I open up a can of worms. "Christie, with a backbone? Don't make me laugh. I'll show her." I felt him thinking. His insecurity became glaringly obvious, and my admiration evolved into a combination of sassiness, resentment, and fear. My hands would cease trembling when I left the office each day.

I could see he felt tallest when others were small.

He led me to believe I was nothing without him, which made me question reality daily. "Maybe I'm blowing things out of proportion... I was nothing before I came here. I should be grateful."

As my confidence shrunk and curiosity dimmed, my spark went out. Getting a new job felt like pushing a boulder up a hill. I felt worthless and stuck.

I had a few allies along the way. When a closer co-worker decided to move on, he took me to lunch and told me something I wasn't ready to hear. He said, "Just so you know, this workplace isn't normal. You can do more elsewhere." I didn't hear the weight of his words.

Again, the universe attempted to communicate with me through my counsellor. It's not often you receive direct advice from a psychologist, but because we'd tried everything, she lovingly advised me he wasn't safe to be around anymore. 

The constraints I once needed became an electrical fence when I'd outgrown them. So I needed to make a choice, despite my feeling ready. 

Suddenly, I remembered all the loving advice I was given, which gave me the strength and self-respect to leave. The reverberation of their words made an incredible impact on my life despite being delayed. 

While I'm grateful for all this man taught me, he also did profound damage. And I damaged myself staying in a box I was ready to leave. Just because it was good then doesn't mean it's good forever.

I needed to unravel and understand all the emotional abuse to move on. The intensity of my nightmares increased whenever I felt empowered or inspired; my fears took on his face. My healing journey was deliberate, involving weekly counselling sessions, staying social, journalling, and drawing what I felt.

Workplace environments get away with a lot and lack ethical accountability. The bullies we experienced as kids are now often the ones running businesses. Know your self-worth so you can determine what your problem is and what’s theirs. You have power and value; don't give it away so easily.

Find a friendly, familiar face that sees, loves, and accepts you. Work through big feelings with an emotionally focused therapy (EFT) counsellor. Stay active. Notice your annihilating self-talk and interrupt it by saying a positive truth. Saying, "I am confident, creative, and loveable", works for me.

Despite the challenge, I now know how to stand on my own two feet and speak up for what I believe in.

Hero or villain, everyone is your teacher. It makes me wonder what I taught him.

Takeaways

✽ Workplaces are a shortcut to extreme growth
✽ Mentors don’t have to be nice to teach you something
✽ Knowing yourself is your greatest strength
✽ You have what you need to succeed