A chip on my shoulder and a good fight

Impostor syndrome is a psychological phenomenon in which people are unable to internalize their accomplishments. Despite external evidence of their competence, those with the syndrome remain convinced that they are frauds and do not deserve the success they have achieved. Proof of success is dismissed as luck, timing, or as a result of deceiving others into thinking they are more intelligent and competent than they believe themselves to be. — Wikipedia

Can you tell I have no idea what I’m doing? … I sure hope not.

A couple weeks back, I overheard a mentor of mine discussing the level of talent in graduate programs. To his own syndrome, he was unsure if he was bringing any value to his students. He was certain his students already knew everything he could teach them. He was uncertain why they were even in the program. Luckily for him, I was doing particularly bad work that day. I assured him that I am not one of the students he was referring in his previous conversation. He kindly replied that I know more than I think I do.

As much as that was a lukewarm version of positive reinforcement, it was really nice to hear. It was enough. I was reinvigorated and ready to battle through my failures and come out the other side with something that worked. Something that was a success.

My current version of impostor syndrome comes from my lack of formal education from any design or art perspective. At least, that my best excuse. However, when I was an anthropology student, I felt the same lack of qualification to be the one providing insights into a culture that wasn’t my own. When I was a sales executive, I secured the largest budget of the entire sales team and still came into work everyday feeling like I was a fraud and probably going to get fired.

Does it ever go away? … I sure hope not.

As much anxiety as it brings me, at least keeps me on my tows. It keeps me fighting and pushing to be better. I’m constantly judging my work and self-editing. I am in a constant fight between my vision, my abilities, and my toolkit.

Jack White, of The White Stripes, prefers to play on cheap, department-store-quality guitars. “I always look at playing guitar as an attack,” says White. “It has to be a fight. Every song, every guitar solo, every note that’s played or written has to be a struggle. It can’t be this wimpy thing where you’re pushed around by the idea, the characters, or the song itself. It’s every player’s job to fight against all of that.”

This battle mentality resinates with me and how I approach my work and design.

For me, spite is an amazing motivator. Spite is the chip on my shoulder that gets me into the fight. And fight isn’t just a part of that process. It’s in every part of that process. From my perspective, learning a skillset is a fight. You have to fight with Adobe Illustrator, Photoshop, and InDesign to make and manipulate them to produce what is needed. You have to fight with what HTML, CSS, and Javascript allow you to make possible. As a designer, I’m also fighting with ideas everyday. The idea is the opponent, and I have to attack and struggle with that idea every step of the way until it is a finished, well-designed, compelling product. As designers we can choose to make something awesome, in spite of the idea, in spite of the client, and in spite of the tools we have available.

As far as impostor syndrome is concerned, I fight like hell everyday to do good work and be a good designer, in spite of myself.

Check out It Might Get Loud on Vimeo to see more about how Jack White ‘attacks’ his work.