So Wednesday someone was shot, not 200 yards from my office. A few minutes later I’m standing 20 feet away from the victim, a student, writhing around in pain, surrounded by 2 or 3 police officers, waiting for the ambulance. Witnesses of the crime saw two assailants fleeing the campus in a beat up car.
30 minutes later, all the local TV stations have camera crews on the scene. They broke from soap operas to broadcast live. Even the local Fox affiliate is on the scene. They interrupted Maury Povich. The scene quickly took on the feel of a zoo, a media circus.
Working in the communications office, you’re immediately deluged with phone calls from the media. Phone calls from confused faculty. Phone calls from concerned families. But we were prepared. We handled things well, considering the circumstances. Nonetheless the day’s events made for an 8 am – 10pm workday.
Video from state and local media outlets:
Video News Coverage
More News Coverage
Even More News Coverage
More News Coverage
The state newspaper even had a camera.
And another clip.
Needless to say, it was a long day. A very. Long. Day. As will be tomorrow.
At the end of the day, having the title of “web designer” means that my job performance will ultimately be judged based on how well things are, designed, on the web.
I could ramble off a list of 15 other recurring duties that interfere with this main, central duty. Blame 50% of it on lack of campus resources, and blame the rest of it on me.
It doesn’t take very long to establish a reputation as a problem solver, and before you know it, you’re not a web designer anymore. You’re a tech support specialist. You’re a videographer. You’re that guy who can update the old department website. You’re that guy who can make a powerpoint from a poorly conceived word document, who can craft an html e-newsletter, who can duplicate dvds, fix cellphones, and configure the elusive Outlook vacation message.
I like helping people. I like being useful. But I also like being a web designer. It’s what I’m good at, …what I hang my hat on, and my career. When I look back on my career, I look at things I’ve designed. Thats the measuring stick. Nothing else. If I look back a year from now and realize that I’ve spent another 12 months being a designer only 1/4 of the time, and our campus web presence still hasn’t made a sizable design improvement …I’ll be very disappointed. And it’ll be MY fault, not that lady’s fault from development who wants to get those videos put on dvd, and not that math professor’s fault who wants a slick html email for his audience of 12 subscribers. So…
This situation is manageable. I have the ability to prioritize, focus, and put down some of these hats I’ve been wearing, hopefully without upsetting a sizable number of people who’ve gotten used to me slipping them on and off everyday. Compromising. Giving in.
After uninstalling email and instant messenger, the next step involves shutting the office door and disconnecting the telephone. All I need is a browser, and photoshop.
Anybody had luck with those methods of isolation?
Remember paper, books? Yeah. There’s a great article well no, interview of Peter Mendelsund at Design:Related. Very inspiring. Lots of interesting things this guy is saying, regardless of whether you’re working with design for web, or print.
How often do you end up with a finished product that you don’t want your name attached to?
PM: Almost every day. One of the things that I find most people misunderstand about cover design on “the outside” is that so much of what happens is determined editorially, or in a marketing meeting. You try your best, but at the end of the day, most things are not going to turn out the way you liked. That’s why it behooves one to do a high volume of work. The law of averages suggests that you’ll end up with something to be proud of amongst the dreck at the end of the day.
Talk a little bit about your work process. Do you start with a pencil and paper, or do you go straight to the mouse?
PM: Every project is completely different. Today for instance, I just pencil sketched one project, (I just had a clear vision of it). On another, I futzed around on my computer till something emerged. There’s one project I’m working on now where the process seems to be: stare at the ceiling, cruise the web till I get carpal tunnel syndrome, bother every coworker I can find, bang my forehead on my monitor, then walk home dejectedly.
The closer Tony Dunn gets to a CMS at his University, the more misgivings he has:
A Beautiful Nightmare
“We have spent years thinking about CMS’s. We’ve spent months reviewing products, trying to select the best one for our needs. We’re going to spend more months developing the best and most beautiful templates for people to use. And we’re going to hire people to manage this great piece of software and manage a smooth rollout of the technology to campus.
And then we’re going to turn over virtually the entire web presence to (let’s be honest) a bunch of department secretaries and let them turn it into a Web version of their computer desktop.”
Well articulated. That was an awesome post. Tools don’t solve problems. Tools will sometimes spawn even more menacing scenarios than they were created to solve.
From the same acclaimed author comes the Cartoon Version of the College Website Redesign Process, post. Epic. Simply Epic.
