Today I thought I’d try something a little different. This is a two-part note, written partly before an event, and partly afterwards. A bit of a before-and-after experiment, I suppose.
I’ve now been studying my MA for just over a month, and this evening we have our usual weekly seminar. And the feedback delivery method of this new course has highlighted to me that my undergraduate degree did not particularly prepare me for was feeling confident sharing work outside the safety of a one-to-one tutorial.
I became very used to discussing ideas privately with a tutor, where there was time to explain the context, ask questions and work through things quietly. So stepping into a course where feedback is much more likely to happen within a group has taken some adjusting. And I think I’ve realised that I had probably leaned on the safety of those one-to-ones more than I knew.
This first module has been quite personal and reflective, and I’ve been fortunate enough to have the time and flexibility to really immerse myself in it and, dare I say, lean into the hyper focus of something new and shiny. I learnt the hard way in previous scenarios that last minute Larry-ing only causes undue stress, so I wanted to challenge myself to front-load my schedule and see how that worked for me.
Earlier this week, I reached the point where I had a full first draft of my final submission with a few weeks to spare. My first reactions were pride and relief. I had something I was pleased with, something I could see potential in, and, perhaps most importantly, enough time left to refine it properly. Then, almost immediately, came guilt. Because I’m very aware that everyone on the course has different responsibilities, different schedules and different demands on their time. So instead of simply allowing myself to feel pleased that my own way of working had worked for me, I started worrying about how that might look.
And then came the feedback question. I initially asked my tutors whether I could book a one-to-one to go through the work. Partly because the module is personal, and partly because my document is well… a fair few pages, shall we say, and I was conscious of not wanting to take up lots of time of others. When I was told that the usual practice at this level is to review work within the seminar, my brain went into overdrive.
Had I accidentally asked for special treatment?
Was I going to look like the overly eager student?
Was I about to become the person everyone secretly rolls their eyes at?
Can you tell I still have some lingering “teacher’s pet” baggage from school😅?
My tutor then suggested we go through it in the seminar that evening. My immediate instinct was to hide, say no and invent a reason not to attend. Anything that meant I didn’t have to put the work, or myself, quite so visibly on display.And then, after talking it through with my Mom, I realised what I was actually doing.
I was shrinking myself.
Not because anyone had asked me to. Not because anyone had made me uncomfortable. But because I was trying to make my own enthusiasm, pride and visibility feel smaller in case somebody else judged it. Which is a slightly ridiculous thing to do when I have absolutely no idea what anybody else is thinking. At this level of study, there really isn’t a prize for being the least visible person in the room. There is no competition. There is just shared learning.
So this is me, writing this about half an hour before the seminar, preparing to put on my brave face and let people look at the thing I have spent weeks building. Even though a very loud part of my brain would quite like to run away.
But the whole situation has made me wonder about something bigger.
Where else do I shrink myself?
I worry about posting my work on Instagram in case I’m sharing too much. I hesitate before posting these notes because I worry they might annoy people, or make me sound as though I’m trying to present myself as something I’m not. I often minimise my own excitement around things before anyone else has even had the chance to respond to it. Heck, I even kept receiving my degree in the post to myself for months, and it’s still sitting in the envelope for fear of looking like I'm bragging by framing it.
But that is part of being a creative, isn’t it? You have to be vulnerable enough to share ideas. Confident enough to explain your decisions. Open enough to receive feedback.And humble enough to know there will always be more to learn.
So that is the slightly scrambled state of my brain before tonight’s seminar. I thought it might be interesting to come back afterwards and see how much of what I feared actually happened. And, hopefully, what I learned from it.
The Next Day
Well, I can safely say it was not nearly as bad as I had imagined. Was it comfortable? Absolutely not. But perhaps that is the point. Sharing creative work is vulnerable. You are not simply presenting a formula or repeating a piece of research. You are sharing decisions you have made, ideas you have followed, things you find interesting. Your taste, your instincts, your way of seeing something. Even when a piece of work is academic, parts of you inevitably end up inside it.
One thing I promised myself when I started this course was that I would be open to being challenged and would actively participate, because after all ‘m only doing myself a disservice by hiding in my studio behind a screen.
I’m beginning to realise that sometimes the challenge will not be academic at all. Sometimes it will be challenging an ingrained habit of making myself smaller in order to feel safe. Yesterday was a small example of that. I shared something that was not perfect - there were things to improve. And nothing catastrophic happened! No one laughed or dramatically announced that I had misunderstood everything. No one, outwardly at least, seemed to be analysing me half as closely as I had analysed myself.
Which reminds me of that advice people give about going to the gym: Nobody is looking at you as much as you think they are. They are too busy worrying about themselves. I have always struggled slightly with this wisdom because I am, admittedly, a terrible people-watcher. But I understand the sentiment. Most of the judgement I had anticipated was coming from inside my own head.
And I think perhaps the most useful thing I took from the seminar had nothing to do with the feedback itself. It was the realisation that sharing the process matters.
One of the reflections in my journal is that I do not necessarily want to become known for one particular aesthetic style. I am much more interested in being known for my ethos, my curiosity and the way I approach a project. But nobody can know your process if you only ever show them the finished image. They can’t understand what you care about if you keep every uncertain thought, messy iteration and half-formed idea hidden away until it looks polished enough to be seen.
So perhaps yesterday was my first tentative step towards taking up a little more space as a designer. Not loudly. Not perfectly. Just enough to say: this is what I’m thinking, this is what I’ve made so far, and I’m willing to let somebody else see it.
For now, tentative steps are enough.
Hopefully, with practice, they become confident strides.