The Creative Currency

The price you pay for a spot in the creative economy

If truth be told, this is the fifth time I am attempting to do this, and I still feel under-qualified to write this blog. I was working on my third draft when the feelings of imposter syndrome crept up on me and drove me to delete it entirely. Drowning my third cup of coffee, I am now sitting down to write my final draft. Here’s hoping!

Claiming my spot within this creative economy

Like most kids in India, I grew up in a society where strong academic careers are the revered norm. So, when my friends were aspiring to be engineers, doctors, chartered accountants, or bankers, calling myself a “design aspirant” already made me feel like I didn’t belong.

Even though my interests revolved around art and design, I was never bad at math and science. Honestly, I was quite good at it. Yet, I felt like an outsider. I thought I could either be an art kid or a math one. And pursuing both in Higher Secondary made me feel like a fraud. This was my first experience with Imposter Syndrome.

The process of applying to art colleges felt like a warm ray of hope. Mostly because it reeked of familiarity, the kind I lacked at home and my school. The thought of being surrounded by people who would share and contribute to a medley of creative ideas about the world around me was appealing and exciting. Before entering college, I believed that I would finally be in the right place. It would click. I would have a place where my affinity for art was not only understood but also acclaimed. I was so consumed by the romanticized idea of college that I turned a blind eye to the tiny differences between my peers and me that surfaced then and now. The first few months were exhilarating. Everyone shared similar interests, comparison took a backseat, and life was replete with over-excitement. The symptoms of Imposter Syndrome were long forgotten.

What could possibly make me feel like an outsider now?

My first trigger of imposter syndrome

But sooner than I saw it coming, I was pulled back to reality. I started acknowledging the ambiguity surrounding the creative economy. My friends and I had fewer things in common than I thought. Our ambitions, styles, and work ethics were noticeably different.

Unlike the obvious differences between science and art, these were more subtle. They existed in the artists we admired, in our choice of medium, our color palettes, and even our source of inspiration.

These differences were what made me unique. But hey, unique also meant alone.

I came to the crashing ironic reality that design as a field was a perfect place for the imposter syndrome.

In a world with increasing complexities, the need for design specifications has peaked more than ever. Following the basics of economics, i.e., demand and supply, the demands of disciplines and subdisciplines within the design community naturally grew.

I have friends studying Visual Branding, Public Space Design, Product Design, Service and System Design, and even Fashion Design. Even when I am constantly surrounded by designers, our interests are hardly ever the same. It is not that hard to imagine how one might feel like an imposter.

And just like it does with everything, lo and beholds the internet makes it worse.

My second trigger of imposter syndrome

Like every other person entering college mid pandemic, my only form of networking and exposure to work was through social media. Like most of my generation, I spend my time updating and browsing the internet.

At its best, social media is inspiring as it helps designers network and reaches a larger audience.At its worst, it is a soul-sucking machine that leaves you feeling worse than ever.

And, it adds an unimaginable amount of pressure to constantly create.

Even when I didn’t post often and was a mere observer, social media got to me. Ridiculously enough, I began comparing my work to my peers’ and industry experts. I set unrealistic expectations and gave myself a hard time for not living up to them. It was unhealthy.

I was subconsciously competing with not just the people in my sight but the entire world. A world that only displays its best of best.

Since design is a self-made career, it often happens that your peers have practiced for a time longer than you have. Even at the same formal level of education, your friends could already seem to be experts and connoisseurs of their arts.

The ambiguity of art vs. design combined with the blurred definition of the field as a whole makes it almost impossible to not succumb to self-doubts. Creative fields make it tough to feel certainty. One day you like your art and the second day you have stared at it for too long. Even you, as a creator, are not certain that you have an affinity for your work. Monet, revered in the field of art, did not just despise his own work but physically destroyed some of his own austere works. And, these feelings, as we all now know, are what Imposter Syndrome thrives off.

As our industry matures, it’s only natural that imposter syndrome is a common feeling that many of us develop. This feeling is only exacerbated by the fact that it is rarely publicly discussed.

And thus, I, too, like most of my friends, jumped on the bandwagon and diagnosed myself with Imposter syndrome within 100 days of design school.

Is it insecurity or Imposter Syndrome?

Extensive research, countless online psych evaluations, and 50 articles later, I realised how foolish I was to label my general insecurity as Imposter Syndrome. I’m sure you’ve done that too, at some point, and that is okay. The internet has altered the meaning of imposter syndrome multiple times and made it seem like a prerequisite for art school.

The internet also made me realise that I was not suffering from imposter syndrome. I was simply terrified of admitting that I am still learning.

Bear with me while I explain to you why learning is intimidating, as it should be, and how labelling it, Imposter Syndrome is counterproductive.

On most days, I am reminded of the sheer abundance of knowledge available on the internet and around me. It is exciting but also quite intimidating. It is even worse if you surround yourself with exceptionally talented people. I know I have.

Everybody has an opinion, a skill to teach, and lessons to impart. And sometimes I get lost in the labyrinth of knowledge.

But isn’t that what it’s supposed to feel like? Learning is meant to feel exciting and overwhelming. It is supposed to make you feel like you’re in over your head. Otherwise, you aren’t learning enough. These feelings are absolutely normal.

It was wrong of me to label my insecurities as Imposter Syndrome because I was hiding behind a label that made me feel safe. I wasn’t undermining myself or feeling like I tricked myself in college, which is the definition of Imposter Syndrome. The truth was that I really didn’t know much, and I had loads to learn.

Today I look back, and I notice how categorising normal feelings of insecurities as abnormal made me stick to my comfort zone a little too much. In reality, the same self-doubt in a person pushes them to learn more and do better. When the lack of confidence is termed Imposter Syndrome, people are encouraged to move to the far end of the spectrum of confidence. This only results in the Dunning Kruger effect, where people with minimum skills think they are exquisitely talented.

But everyone has insecurities.

Even your allegedly expert friends and teammates are probably suffering from these feelings too. I know it might seem like you’re alone, but you are really not. Talk to your peers, your faculty, and anyone you feel comfortable with. You will only realize how liberating it is to share.

If you feel slightly uncomfortable and intimidated, you’re likely pushing yourself in your work. That’s a great place to be in, though it may not sound like it.

I know it sucks to be a beginner and having to run to the internet asking the most bizarre and simple questions every second. I am also painfully aware of how awful it feels to not know the software or skill that people around you so flawlessly have mastered. But that doesn’t make you any less of a designer. You just have to push yourself to your limits by aiming beyond your current capabilities.

But hey, stay realistic about your progress, okay? Don’t make the rookie mistake of comparing yourself to industry experts who’ve spent years perfecting their skills. And, definitely be compassionate with yourself. Remind yourself that if you’re pushing yourself to learn, you’re already on the right path.

I wish there was a conclusive statement that fixes the issue, but there isn’t any. It takes time to train your mind to avoid the train of thoughts that bring you down. But it makes it slightly easier to be aware of it. Everyone is in the same rocky boat and dealing with the ever-demanding nature of today’s society.

Learn to be comfortable with the uncomfortable process of learning. As design’s ambiguity continues to grow, I find myself with no choice but to grow with it as well.

As you should too!

References

Abrams, Abigail. 2018. “Yes, Impostor Syndrome Is Real. Here’s How to Deal with It.” Time. Time. June 20, 2018. https://time.com/5312483/how-to-deal-with-impostor-syndrome/.

Iorgulescu, Costin. 2019. “How to Deal with the Imposter Syndrome If You’re a Designer.” Medium. March 9, 2019. https://uxdesign.cc/how-to-deal-with-the-imposter-syndrome-if-youre-a-designer-e4bd48f3ef8d

Kay, Vivienne. 2017. “Overcoming Not-Imposter Syndrome.” Medium. June 27, 2017. https://uxdesign.cc/overcoming-not-imposter-syndrome-6d92c71c1751.

Liu, Alicia. 2018. “You Don’t Have Impostor Syndrome.” Medium. June 4, 2018. https://medium.com/counter-intuition/you-don-t-have-impostor-syndrome-126e4c4bdcc.