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On Transformation: Student to Educator to Learner

By Liz Chen

In July 2023, I learned I would be teaching a special topics course in the spring at NCSU, meaning I could construct a class on whatever I wanted, as long as it related in some way to graphic and experience design. As a recent NCSU graduate student interested in social justice, I carried an urgency to conduct impactful design research, examining educator systemic bias and its impact on underrepresented students in design education. In academia, where curriculum tends to be censored by Board of Trustee ideology and anti-DEI legislation threatens classroom sovereignty, it is increasingly vital to provoke change and advocate for equity and social justice. As a non-tenure track faculty member, I had a unique positionality as I did not feel pressure to please an institution through political neutrality. To me, this was an opportunity to develop a course aimed to strengthen the next generation of designers in their critical thinking skills. Specifically, “Design Ethics and Justice” encouraged students to challenge the status quo and embrace cultural humility.

The course, which met weekly, began with a discussion on social identity and positionality. In the following weeks, we discussed intersectionality, ethics in design, design justice, disability justice, accessible design, decolonizing design, indigenous design, BIPOC design, design in a capitalist society, poetic research, data ethics, ludditism, and queer design. Projects included the creation of a visualization of student values, a zine that captured a conversation between a student and a person engaged in design with a historically marginalized background, and finally, students designed activities for their peers to participate in about topics covered in class.

Throughout the course, we relied on Miro for collaboration, community-building, and class activities. As an ode to the collage-esque aesthetic of our course Miro board, this visual essay aims to mimic Miro’s visual output whilst capturing the breadth of content – lectures, activities, visiting speakers, workshops, student work, and student reflections – that emerged from Design Ethics and Justice. At first glance, the visualization is messy, scattered, and full of breadcrumbs – this is largely on purpose, representative of how I initially conceptualized the course. Upon further inspection, there is structure within each section, labeled by topic and week, collaborators, and student projects. The flow of the course, though indicated by the week number, does not necessarily need to be followed chronologically (but can be traced by a thick yellow line). Student-written reflections are sprinkled throughout, captured via sticky notes, and placed in proximity to what the student is reflecting on. Some sticky notes are paired with visual reflections.

As an alum of this program, I was privy to the gaps in curriculum and the lack of diverse and intersectional instruction. Understanding that I could not speak adequately on issues in which I don’t have experience, I invited guest speakers with lived experience in the topics we explored. Through these visits, my perspective expanded: I was once again a student, and though the lines felt a bit blurred from the beginning, I realized that rejecting the binary and restricting roles of student vs. educator enhanced receptivity and flow of knowledge.

Although I attempted to design this course from the perspective of a learner who craved these conversations, I recognize that this course has tremendous room for improvement. If I were to facilitate this course in the future, I’d take a non-hierarchical pedagogical approach, opting for students to have more autonomy in the way the course is structured, the topics we cover, and project scopes. Practicing pedagogical co-design would imply that students are invested in the development of the course, providing insight into their interests, and shaping their educational experiences. In retrospect, I believe the course would benefit more community building, empowering students to bring their lived experiences into the classroom and creating an environment built on trust, conceptual exchange, and accountability.

Overall, I enjoyed many aspects of my year as an Assistant Teaching Professor at NC State. I’m grateful for the opportunity to mentor students and expose them to ideas and philosophies they may not have encountered during their academic careers.

Thank you to all collaborators in this course: Lesley-Ann Noel, PhD; Lexi Namer, Alexandra Grossi, Sadie Red Wing, Ashley Anderson, Shadrick Addy (and Victoria Gerson for the introduction), Randa Hadi, and Jarrett Fuller.

Most of all, thank you to my students who approached this course with openness, patience, and willingness to thoughtfully engage.

Liz Chen (she/they) is a graphic and user experience designer, writer, and educator based in Raleigh, NC. They received a Bachelor of Arts in Journalism (Reporting) with a minor in English from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill in 2019 and a Master’s Degree in Graphic and Experience Design (MGXD) from North Carolina State University in 2023. Currently, Liz is an Assistant Professor of Graphic and Experience Design at NCSU and freelance graphic and UX designer. Their research interests include design ethics, design pedagogy, design justice and activism, and machine learning/AI.

 If you’re interested in design ethics and design justice and want to chat, email me at ebaileychen@gmail.com.

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The Search Generation

By Isabel Bo-Linn

The Search Generation

This term I am teaching a special topics course, AI and Design, where we explore topics related to the implementation, impact, ethics, and collaborative opportunities of AI. A common theme throughout the course is “times are a changin”. As a design educator who emphasizes research and academic curiosity, I implore my students to take agency in their own education. Technology has and will continue to transform how we find and interpret information. It’s imperative students not only embrace the tidal wave of transformation AI and other technology will bring about, but also strive to hone and utilize vital literacy skills to pave the way for equitable futures.

Isabel Bo-Linn is a multidisciplinary designer, researcher, and educator with experience in print, product, and UX/UI design. Their current research investigates the origins, influences, and possibilities of visual essays/narratives as pedagogical tools and design artifacts. Other active investigations include the potentials embodied interactive systems, experiments with type and image through emerging technologies, speculative design, as well as theories and methodologies of design pedagogy.

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References

Greenwood, P., Patston, T., Slouch, A., (2019). The digital-ready worker: digital agency and the pursuit of productivity. Deloitte Insights. https://www2.deloitte.com/us/en/insights/focus/technology-and-the-future-ofwork/ learned-helplessness-workforce.html/#endnote-sup-3

Huang, Kelley (2022, September 16). For Gen-Z, TikTok is the New Search Engine. https://www.nytimes.com/2022/09/16/technology/gen-z-tiktok-search-engine.ht ml

Lynch, Michael Patrick (2016, April 24). Teaching in the Time of Google. The Chronicle of Higher Education. https://www.chronicle.com/article/teaching-in-the-time-of-google/

Nicoletti, L., Bass, D., (2023, June 9). Humans Are Biased. Generative AI is Even Worse. Bloomberg. https://www.bloomberg.com/graphics/2023-generative-ai-bias/

Skonnard, Aaron (2023, June 23). The Next Generation of Workers is Less Tech Savvy Than We May Think. Forbes. https://www.forbes.com/sites/forbestechcouncil/2023/06/23/the-next-gen eration-of-workers-is-less-tech-savvy-than-we-may-think/?sh=6e2f0789 1a52

The Value of Design is Design.

By Jay Harlow

“They need us for who we are. So be yourself, only better.” —Oppenheimer (2023)

Freakout or Phase Shift?

Call it what you like—UX, UI, UI/UX, UXD, XD, or (Digital) Product Design—software designers are freaking out.

Tech companies are recovering from a wave of overspending, overcorrecting to test just how far the proposition “doing more with less” can go. Industry-wide layoffs are hitting a generation of designers who have never known a world in which design was seen as optional, and reactions have ranged from feeling gaslit to nihilistic (it really is all about us, you see).

Or perhaps, as Peter Merholz and Jesse James Garrett put it recently, we are simply in a “phase shift” between how the practice has operated and something new.

Services & Surfaces

This shift isn’t unique to design—it’s happening across all of technology. Once upon a time, software shipped in a box. Process was simple. We designed, built, tested, and shipped.

When the web arrived, it split software in two. Content (data) could live on the server, decoupled from its interface onscreen. Mobile phones shrunk applications into apps, reducing the literal and figurative surface area of software. In tandem, engineers began decomposing monolith architecture into microservices, atomizing software into individualized functions. These parallel evolutions enabled unitary software products to be reconfigured into complex systems of component parts, serving multiple actors across many interface surfaces.

We call this business model Software-as-a-Service (SaaS), but it would be better described the other way around, as service-as-software.

Consider a ride-sharing app. The most visible interface surface is the app you use to request the ride. The app connects you, through the service, with another, more complex, app used by the driver. Behind the scenes, support and operations teams access even more complex information dashboards to ensure you and your driver meet, all of which are powered by even more complex algorithms to optimize service delivery. But the “product” here isn’t all that software, it’s the ride. It is a transportation service, delivered, optimized, and monetized through software.

This flip is at the heart of the phase shift: technology isn’t just for tech companies anymore. It’s a necessary, integral part of every business, including those that provide services in the real world. The “products” these businesses deliver are whole services that live across systems of interconnected interface surfaces.

Boxes and Siloes

Businesses love to slice themselves up into accounting lines. Product Management thinks in products to manage and market. Engineers need to write code in one stack or another.

Software development organizations are organized in these siloes. They are formed when the business needs to deliver on some strategic objective. But while siloes promise the ability for teams to execute quickly and predictably, they also wall their teams off from other teams.

This creates a catch-22 many technology organizations find themselves wrestling with when delivering service-as-software: how to create a cohesive experience while building it in independently-delivered pieces.

The Double Dilemma

In “resource-constrained environments” (read: layoffs), execution is paramount.

On the right-hand side of the double diamond, Product/UI/Visual Designers, tasked with delivering finished “designs,” are getting nervous. Given the standardization of UI, the ready availability of off-the-shelf design systems, and the emergence of AI-based layout tools, design is starting to feel like a replaceable commodity. It’s a reasonable fear—if you believe that “design” is nothing more than the delivery of pixel-perfect layouts.

Over in the left diamond, “UXers” avoid the word “design” altogether, retitling ourselves in a constant struggle to be taken seriously. Grandly reducing Design to Thinking, this side of the practice declared that “everyone was a designer,” and, well, everyone realized they didn’t really need designers anymore. Turns out we aren’t the only ones who can run a workshop.

Of course, workshopping isn’t design anymore than pushing pixels around in Figma is. But put them together, and you’ve got something.

Nobody needs another definition of design, but for the sake of clarity, when I say “design,” I mean the iterative articulation of form to solve a problem. The thinking is in the making. The making is the thinking. The magic is in the interplay.

When it happens, it creates a kind of human, intrinsic value that doesn’t require ROI calculation. It makes things make sense. It makes making decisions easy. And that has value, to even the most cost-conscious business.

But to show that value through design requires not only practicing design, but positioning design to deliver its value. And here, the shift to services-as-software presents a tremendous opportunity for designers to stop freaking out.

Design as Fabric

Where other functions in business struggle with siloes, designers see connections. Where Product sees the ability to deliver features for revenue, designers see the journeys that traverse those features. Where Engineering decomposes monoliths into microservices, designers see holistic systems.

When designers organize around those connections, we start to create a kind of fabric that binds an organization together. We synthesize ideas and render them into artifacts that can clarify intent and build shared understanding. These artifacts can then travel to other discussions, which can in turn reconcile those ideas with the whole experience. Designers become honeybees, moving from team to team, pollinating ideas.

This working model fills a gap that most organizations struggle with: the space between well-defined near-term roadmaps and abstract, long-range business strategies. Design is unique among business functions in that it operates within this space, where the edge of the known horizon starts to peel away from our ability to visualize it.

Positioned in the middle horizon, design becomes capable of rendering a cohesive working model of the future experience the business hopes to deliver. This experience model is an ever-changing thing, constantly moving ahead of the organization, like a probe sent ahead of a spacecraft, sending back information and helping the ship adjust course.

Such a model gives product development teams a tangible north star, a shared sense of direction that enables them to move independently toward a shared goal with a common sense of destination. It allows finance and operations teams to better estimate time and resourcing with reasonable confidence. It provides executives with a clear and compelling vision to present to boards and investors. In short, it visibly aligns the organization on what it is we are trying to do. And that is valuable.

Life is Recognizable in its Expression

Technology isn’t going to stop changing. With AI rising and UI receding, software will continue to shrink, baking itself further and further into our lives. For the working designer, the job is transforming: from designing interfaces to designing surfaces; designing products to designing services; from designing software to designing experiences.

The question is what we, as a discipline, do in response. Design may be a tough thing to define, but it is intrinsically valuable—if we don’t lose sight of that value ourselves. The practice of design will continue to change. Form ever follows function. But the value of design is still design. As Denise Gonzales Crisp would say, “The thing is the thing.”

The rise of technology-enabled services is a transformational moment that is uniquely suited to reclaiming that value. The tremendous opportunity it presents for designers is to end the separation of Design Thinking and production-level doing.

It is to be the thread that binds teams and products, surfaces and services, customers and businesses. It is to be the architects of never-ending change, through the whole practice of design.

Jay Harlow is a Design + Product leader who specializes in simplifying complex systems, managing changes of scale and integration, and finding the overlap between the possible and the potential.

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Statement of Practice

By Rebecca Knowe

After working as an in-house graphic designer for several years, I was bored. Entering the MGD program looking for more challenging design work, I found it through design that embraces complex problems, systems thinking, and research (of all stripes). One project aimed to design learning content for middle schoolers. My collaborator and I got the chance to observe a middle school classroom and interview the teacher. It brought the whole project to life for me—to see the people that would use the design I created, and more easily imagine what the design could help them do. Next, I took a class in Qualitative Research Methods to learn how to ask better questions and gather more actionable information. The research for that class seamlessly informed an additional design studio project—and I was hooked! Design work was brought to life for me when I could connect it to real people, and to solving their concrete problems.

I credit NCSU, my hardworking professors, and my talented peers with giving me the tools to build a career based on work I love. I did not feel very confident upon entering the program (nor during it), but applying those tools to real-world problems later on showed me how powerful they were, and boosted my confidence like nothing else could. Specifically, I saw that skills like systems thinking, a design thinking mentality and process (to iterate with several ideas and evaluate what works), knowing how to lean on frameworks and theories derived from research, building the skills to do my own research, and continually revising and evolving my understanding of the world applied very clearly and directly to work as a user experience designer. 

Ten years ago I began working at IBM, initially as a user experience designer who did research—now as a researcher who is also a designer. In the beginning, I designed user interfaces and asked lots of questions about who would use them—but found few answers that would tell me whether I had created a “good” design or not. Shifting quickly into more research work to answer my questions, I focused more and more on collaborating with users to determine what would best meet their goals, and worked with the UX designers to shape findings into design principles. Now user research makes up the majority of my work, and I’ve also gotten to see the discipline mature and its demand increase in the industry.

For me the most exciting part of a new project is learning about the people who will benefit from it. It’s exciting, in a very anthropological way, to learn about the worlds of people who are different from me. People ask if I miss “doing design work,” but I still consider myself a designer—just one who works at the “fuzzy front end” of new problems and concepts, to point our explorations in a direction with the most possibility of success. I design experiences that let me learn more about people. And communications to demonstrate the value we propose creating for them. And bridges between what they say and do, and what my team should do about it. I love marrying design work with the work to understand people who will use it. 

In my design philosophy, design is educating. Design is communicating, helping others understand new perspectives, and leaving a legacy. For me design can be practical, as well as beautiful or challenging. It took me a long time to realize and accept this. If you are inspired to solve utilitarian, concrete problems for real people, you are no less a designer, no less creative, than our brilliant colleagues who create unequalled beauty, speak to the culture, or challenge the intellect. There is a place, and a need in this world, for the thoughtful contributions of every designer. Don’t get discouraged thinking you must fit into the same categories of the designers who have come before you. This was a struggle for me for a long time, but the work I love dearly now did not really exist yet when I began my journey as a designer. You have unique gifts. Keep working to find the places to use them—they will reveal themselves.

 

Rebecca Knowe works as a Senior User Experience Researcher at IBM, where she has focused on software design, concept research, and business strategy since 2013. She graduated from the NCSU Master of Graphic Design program in 2012, after several years of working as a freelance and in-house graphic designer.
After living in Texas for 8 years, she recently returned to the Triangle area and now enjoys trying out vegetable gardening and historic home improvement projects. In her spare time she also likes to travel, watch documentaries, study history and biographies, and volunteer with education and poverty-alleviation programs.

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O pripadanju // On Belonging

By Saša Crkvenjaš

 

 

In August 2018, I packed my bags for a transoceanic flight not knowing it would be the last time I had a singular identity. I had no idea what was waiting ahead of me, and my worries about the English language were trivial in comparison. Five years later I still don’t know what it is in me that has always sparked a curiosity for the unknown and a desire to travel. Of course, like every typical Sarajevan and Bosnian, I know there is no future in our country – it died in 1992. But, as an atypical Sarajevan and Bosnian, I did not go to Germany as true diaspora, but ventured a little further with no concrete goal in mind. At times, it feels like my only goal is simply to avoid permanently returning home.

After a million flights, five years, and two semi-identities, I’m unsure if I feel more complete than before. Over time, I built my second, American identity, but at the cost of my Bosnian one. The more I practice my American identity, the Bosnian atrophies even though I try to keep it in shape. And not only does it atrophy, but it takes form of the latter, partly because people ovdje (here) understand and use both languages. Still, I’m here for nine months and ovdje for three. Over time, you forget the words of the language you’ve spoken for 24 years, you lose conversation topics with the people you grew up with. You forget the streets, buildings, and bars, and you feel like a tourist in your hometown. Then again, you don’t feel at home even on the other side of the world. Something is always missing.

It’s challenging to write in my native language because I haven’t done so in years. I have to think too much, look for words and ask myself, “jel’ se to tako kaže” (is that how you say it), and Google the answer. Bosnian is too informal and isn’t meant for writing but for speaking. On the other hand, in English, I feel like a robot communicating in learned phrases, without flexibility or freedom of expression. In some ways, Bosnian is everything English isn’t; it has a soul and energy. I both hate it and find it funny that I often forget simple everyday words and can’t articulate a coherent sentence in my mother tongue. The longer I’m away, the more time it takes to restore my language when I return home.

It’s not just talking that’s a problem, but I also lack topics to converse about. What do I have in common with the people I used to spend every day with and now only see a few times during those three months I’m back home? They live their lives in Sarajevo, and I live mine in America. We reside in two distinct universes, and over time we grow further and further apart, no matter how hard we try to stay connected. All we can do is talk about the same topics on repeat and reminisce about how things used to be. We don’t have the time or the appropriate words to describe our respective universes to each other. The difference is that one universe is somewhat smaller and better defined, while mine spans half the world, two languages, and two cultures. Nobody who hasn’t lived this way can comprehend what it’s like to find oneself in another language and culture without changing the core part of yourself that has been there since the beginning.

All aspects that constitute identity – suddenly, before you realize they are changing at all – begin to change form without your conscious choice. The metamorphosis begins with the very arrival to another location. A completely new image is created in the eyes of a new culture, from your name, appearance, nationality, and the way you talk. Although you still feel like the same person inside, you sense that the perception of others, at least partially, does not match your perception of yourself. When you talk to people, you say what you had in mind, but the words that come out of your mouth sound like someone else’s. At first, it’s awkward because you feel like a stranger to yourself, but over time, that stranger becomes a good friend.

However, what happens when you find yourself stuck between your two identities? What if you feel like there’s a wall separating you from both cultures that you partially belong to? When you live between two spheres, you can’t fully belong to either. When I’m home, I’m premalo naša, and when I’m here, I’m a bit too foreign. Ovdje, people ask me “Saša? A čija si ti?” (who do you belong to), and here they say “Sasha? That’s such a cool name!” but more often than not, I’m reduced to just “Sasa.” As a result, Saša with a male Serbian name is lucky because no one will stop a Saša from entering America. Suddenly, Saša from Sarajevo becomes Saša from “Where is that?” and “Boston is so far away!” and “Is the war still going on?”, so much so that Saša eventually becomes Saša from Europe and Saša from far away.

I recently spoke with a friend who is also an international student. We complained about our struggles here and “the big unknown” that awaits us after graduation. I wondered, what makes us do this to ourselves? What made me decide to cross the ocean for college at 18? Why couldn’t I stay where I was like everyone else did? Why couldn’t I live a simple life where I was born and raised? Why did I decide to complicate my life by going so far away, where I don’t know anyone? Part of the reason is that I never felt at home in my hometown. For some reason, I always felt like an outsider, so maybe I left hoping to escape that feeling.

Surprisingly, this damned country makes me feel alive, challenges me, and pushes me into the unknown day after day. But it also exhausts me. Makes me sad, angry, and frustrated. It makes me want to run back home. However, when I do go back home and finally detox from America, I no longer feel alive. I’m filled with emptiness, and inspiration and motivation leave me. I feel like something is missing. I feel listless and dead. And so, every year, I move from one extreme to the other. I live to feel dead, and I die to feel alive.

It doesn’t get any easier every time I return to life. Somehow, the first time was the easiest because I had no idea what I was in for. Now, every time before departure, rivers of tears flow longer and longer. It feels like I’m preparing for a nine-month war, and I’m not sure who I’m fighting against or why. Of course, there are opportunities, future, and success, but the goal is very unclear. I don’t think I will know what the goal is until I experience it, until I recognize it.

And so… Until I find what I’m looking for, I keep wandering, and belonging to everything and nothing.

Saša Crkvenjaš is a graphic designer pursuing a Master’s degree in Graphic and Experience Design at North Carolina State University. Holding a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Graphic Design from the University of Florida, her passion lies in intercultural experiences, humanistic design, and innovative technologies. Her artistic journey began in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and expanded through experimental techniques and photography at United World College in Mostar. Saša’s work aims to connect people, places, and information, drawing inspiration from her experiences in two diverse cultures. She specializes in UI/UX design and has a keen interest in leveraging AI and ML technologies to create practical and visually pleasing solutions that promote well-being, accessible education, and cross-cultural understanding.

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(Re)Considering Belonging: Building Community Across Spaces

By Randa Hadi

Whether you’ve never left your hometown or have veered far away from where you were born, belonging is something we all seek, and maybe something we are in constant search of. Your sense of belonging can take different forms, whether it’s through friendships, maps, archives, or digital communities, we form our identities even when we’re straddling two worlds (Al Abas, 2019). Belonging can exist on several scales: micro, meso, and macro levels. 

Belonging Permeates Life in Various Ways

Muhammad al-Idrisi spent most of his life creating cartographic maps of the Arab world. Although his true intentions for making the map are not clear, it’s safe to assume that it was driven by wanting the Arab world to be represented the way an Arab saw it. I first came across these maps when Sherine Salla presented them in the Against the Grain Fellowship at Futuress. I was so intrigued by their form, directionality, and non existing political borders. North is pointing down, and South is pointing up; a small, yet beautiful detail in how he saw these maps.

As I look at these maps, I realize that I can’t locate Kuwait. It didn’t exist back then. But there are countries that I recognize, Egypt, a country I consider to be a neighbor of Kuwait. Egypt becomes my tether as I navigate a map that asks us to reorient ourselves. When I see countries I recognize, I feel a sense of belonging.

Al-Idrisi’s world map Rotated 180 degrees, 1154 استدارة خارطة العالم للإدريسي بزاوية 180 درجة كتوضيح حالي لأن الناس في أيام الإدريسي كانوا يعتبرون أن الجنوب يوجد في الأعلى.

 

A 1929 composite map consisting of al-Idrīsī‘’s regional maps, with names transliterated into Latin script.

“Maps were like portals that enabled people to reach across the miles and the centuries to feel a sense of belonging.”

— Zayde Antrim, Trinity College

Beyond the “Normative” Map

Not only do geographical maps foster a sense of belonging, but even maps that are conceptual, spatial, and abstract can help form that too. In Feminist Spatial Practices, Part 1 on e-flux, a beautifully colored map with forms that mimic the ocean flanks the top of the page. At first glance, the map looks like a colorful ocean, but when you click the image you start to realize it’s a conceptual and abstract map that creates a landscape of feminist spatial practices from around the world, stretching across time and projecting into the future. This map tells a story, builds community, and educates people about political movements and theoretical discourses around feminist spatial practices; a map as a learning tool. These maps of countless feminisms expanding methods of resistance helps us in “imagining and enacting more equitable, supportive, and sustainable worlds” (Roberts, B., Aiken, A., 2023). 

These diagrammatic maps that were designed by Bryony Roberts and Abriannah Aiken offer the viewer a diagram of possibilities; imagining different ways of seeing and being. The first time I fully spent time with the map, as I kept getting closer and closer to seeing all the layers of the map I started to find attachment to the words that were calling me: Expanded Histories, Political Struggles, Protests in Iran, War in Ukraine, Mindy Seu Cyberfeminism Index, 2023… The map continues to unfold and offer up a multilayered experience of information. 

Left: Bryony Roberts and Abriannah Aiken, “Feminist Spatial Practices, Part 1,” 2023. 

Right: Bryony Roberts and Abriannah Aiken, “Complement to Feminist Spatial Practices, Part 1,” 2023, including Liz Galvez, “e.g. An (Im)material Space,” 2020; Lin Tianmiao, “Protruding Patterns,” 2017; Tanya Aguiñiga, “Craft & Care Exhibition,” Museum of Art and Design, 2018; Sheila Hicks, “Safe Passage,” 2014-2015, and “Lianes de Beauvais,” 2011-2012; Lynda Benglis, “Untitled (VW),” 1971.

“Feminist spatial practices are multidimensional and multifaceted expressions of thinking and acting, with an aim to build spatial justice and enable better caring in a world defined by ideologies of injustice and regimes of inequity.”

— Elke Krasny, Feminist Spatial Practices, Part 1 on e-flux

 

Today, maps are used for navigation, to talk about political borders and delineations, and to help you understand the geography of the world. But they’re also used to reference home, a geographical indication of where you feel you belong. You grow up looking at a map from a unique perspective, one that is shaped by where you grew up. It is through that geographical upbringing that you view the world from that point of view.  We become used to the shape of the country we’re from, it gives us a sense of familiarity. Even in the case of immigrants and diasporic people, “home can be an ideal image in the mind”(Al Abas, 2019); a radical dream of what home is.

Dreaming of the past, present, or future can help you imagine a space where you feel like you belong. I came across Saidiya Hartman’s work while I was writing about (Re)Claiming Archives, a space that allows for collective dreaming; one where everyone sees themselves represented. 

Saidiya Hartman is a  writer and Professor at Columbia University focusing on African-American studies. Her research and writing explore topics of slavery in American society and bear witness to the trauma, happiness, and fleeting moments of Black beauty that historical archives have obscured, erased, and/or omitted. Through an analysis of her work, Nayar (2013) writes, “Hartman…seeks belonging in terms of re-membering the past.” Archives hold information relating to the past, and through those archives, one can either see themselves represented in history or feel erased by it. Archives, whether digital or physical, can help shape your sense of belonging to moments in history.

While belonging has existed in relation to physical spaces for a while, the emergence of digital belonging is somewhat new. The digital sphere has no borders or delineations like maps do; it’s an open ether, a space for all types of communities to form & flourish regardless of where you are geographically. 

When Covid-19 hit, many communities that manifested in physical spaces adapted to be present in the digital sphere, and people were staying connected continents and countries away. It gave an opportunity for people to connect, discuss, collectively make, learn and belong to a group (Gunawardena, C.N., Hermans M.B., Sanchez D., Richmond C., Bohley M., & Tuttle R., 2009). 

Belonging takes form across several spaces — design education, conferences, coffee shops, libraries, and at parks. For design education, belonging can be fostered through the materials taught, group discussions around books, and specifically the histories that are covered in the classroom.* 

*I use the term classroom to also include classes that are offered via Zoom. 

BIPOC Design History is an educational platform that was founded in 2021 as a response to the frustrations and glaring gaps in design representation for Black, Indigenous, and People of Color. Our goal at BIPOC Design History is to create a radical educational experience that revisits and rewrites the course of design history in a way that centers previously marginalized designers, cultural figures — and particularly BIPOC and QTPOC people. Through live and pre-recorded lectures, our classes shed light on moments of oppression and visibility.

Estrangement can also emerge from a lack of representation in the design history canon, with BIPOC Design History we were very aware of how historical archives and written histories have altered, erased, and negated to include marginalized people. The classes each touch on different topics relating to design, identity construction, politics, and the inequalities BIPOC groups face. 

During the online Zoom classes, people from all different walks of life came to express their interests and frustrations, and empower each through their shared common interest: belonging to a group of people that genuinely cared about representation and diversity in design education; building up a (re)written design history curriculum that emerged out of the lack of representation in the design history canon. 

When I was given the opportunity to write and develop a design history course for BIPOC Design History, I immediately thought about the moments during a design history course when I didn’t feel seen. I knew more about Eurocentric and Western White Male designers than I did about my own culture & design histories. I wanted to develop a course specifically focused on Southwest Asia & North Africa (SWANA) because of how diverse, colorful, bold, and rooted in history the design is in that region. I’ve been introduced to design histories that changed my approach and framework to designing; expanding the possibilities of what design can do and say.

“Visibility enables solidarity.”
— Feminist Spatial Practices

 

Belonging can be found anywhere, in maps, notion resource pages, written words, are.na boards, Instagram accounts, and in design history classes. Although communities of belonging emerge out of a lack of presence, through this radical act of building a safe space, solidarity emerges. We can continue to build spaces of belonging collectively in various ways. 

I’m always seeking belonging in archives, different communities, and through the books I read. All the examples referenced above can foster a sense of belonging, this feeling of attachment is felt through the things we see, read, and hear. Belonging isn’t linear, neat, or limited, belonging is fluid, messy, and infinite.

 

Randa Hadi (MGD ‘20) is a Kuwaiti designer, educator, researcher, and informal archivist. She is interested in exploring ways to (re)think the archive as a place to dream and imagine a better future; interweaving Arab identity, belonging, and collective memories. 

 

Website
Instagram
Are.na
Email

 

Works Cited

Al Abas, M., 2019. Cultural identity and the dilemma of “in-betweenness” in selected Arab American and Jewish-American novels. University of Essex. https://repository.essex.ac.uk/24933/ 

Nayar, P.K., 2013. Mobility, migrant mnemonics and memory citizenship: Saidiya Hartman’s Lose Your Mother. Nordic Journal of English Studies, 12(2), pp.81–101. DOI: http://doi.org/10.35360/njes.287

Roberts, B., Aiken, A., 2023. Feminist Spatial Practices, Part 1. e-flux Architecture. https://www.e-flux.com/architecture/chronograms/506357/feminist-spatial-practices-part-1/

Charlotte N. Gunawardena, Mary Beth Hermans, Damien Sanchez, Carol Richmond, Maribeth Bohley & Rebekah Tuttle (2009) A theoretical framework for building online communities of practice with social networking tools, Educational Media International, 46:1, 3-16, DOI: 10.1080/09523980802588626

 

 

 

Statement of Practice as a Design Educator

By Rachael Paine

In my experience as a creative director, I found unleashing the talents of others the most rewarding aspect of my position. I took opportunities to create intense working environments that required peoples’ best thinking and doing. I am motivated by helping others to see obstacles as opportunities. After thirteen fulfilling years in the business realm, I decided that teaching and mentoring are significant drivers for me. With my passion for creative leadership and direction, I have a solid understanding that the purest form of liberal, creative thought happens in education. 

I view both intelligence and talent as continually developing. I believe that an individual’s intelligence and skill can grow in circumstances where they are challenged. As an instructor, I find opportunities to push students to open up new possibilities within their work. I work individually with students to draw attention to areas of potential investigation, prompting them to dig deeper and push harder in developing their final projects. These methods came directly from my work as a creative director where I devoured business leadership books. Leadership in business helped prepare me for leadership in the classroom.

Under my instruction, students are encouraged to focus on their process over the final product. I’ve led several typographic workshops where I facilitated an “iterate towards discovery” approach. I prompted students to find visual surprises to exploit in future iterations with statements such as, “Look at what you have made and respond to that.” 

In the studio environment, I practice guiding students to discuss their work with a simple four-step lead-in (one I learned from watching Professor Denise Gonzales Crisp): Here is what I was interested in. Here is what I explored. Here is what I discovered. And here is where it might go next. By encouraging students to remember that design is never “done” and to embrace the process, the work is richer in concept, depth, and delight. Students report unexpected results that they would not have produced if they focused only on the end goal. 

Also fundamental to my teaching philosophy is the principle that design education should train students how to think and problem solve in addition to how to make and visually design. I guide students to think critically about visual design decisions by asking, “To what end?” and, “How will this enhance the experience of the user?” I encouraged research of precedents and plenty of concept mapping to hash out ideas. 

I see learning to give and receive critical feedback as an essential skill in design education. Each semester I offer a lecture on “collaboration within the classroom.” I encourage students to be fully invested in each other’s work and to give constructive feedback. I discuss the concept of critiques on the premise that if anyone loses, everyone loses, as it reflects poorly on the class as a whole if a peer gets all the way to critique with less than satisfactory work. In addition, I emphasize that critical feedback is a gift. I remind students to separate discussions of their work from their self-worth. Class time is given for informal discussions with peers to encourage the regular habit of talking about ideas and working with each other through all phases of the design process.

I see design as being an investigative study with classrooms full of curious minds. Instructors should give adequate room to students to ask questions and self-direct. I encourage students to be invested in creating expectations and serving as both learners and contributors. By allowing for this cooperative, flexible approach, students feel free to express themselves within the classroom and have opportunities to engage in activities that are meaningful to them. I strive to create learning environments that foster independent, self-motivated, creative pursuits.

Student Work

Spring 2023: If you take an 11×17 piece of paper and fold it as small as it goes, you get 64 squares. I have students sketch 64 iterations within the spaces. This method of iterative sketching helps students move past the first, most obvious solution to the design problem. Here, the student was creating a typographic mark for a novelty hotel brand.

 

Fall 2020: This typographic workshop, originally modeled after a workshop conducted by Denise Gonzales Crisp, has students lay out typographic material on physical 3D structures and then digitally manipulate photos and videos of the type. This photo comes from a remote version of the workshop performed during Covid.

 

Spring 2020: In this typographic workshop called “Type as Image”, students combined letters into figure/ground arrangements. This workshop was conducted with Type One students as an exploration of Gestalt design principles (such as closure, continuation, repetition, and figure/ground). In this image, these are the student’s initial sketches for the project.

 

Type One Spring 2023: One the first day of class to introduce students to seeing type as shape and form over simply having meaning, students were provided with typographic material and given scissors and glue, and instructed to create new typographic marks.

 

Rachael Paine is an Assistant Professor of Graphic Design and Human-Centered Design at Virginia Tech. She has a Bachelor’s and Master’s in Graphic Design and a Ph.D. in Design from North Carolina State University. Rachael has worked as an adjunct instructor at NC State and as a full-time user experience designer for a multinational analytics software developer. Various design research publications have featured Rachael’s work, and she has presented and participated at conferences both nationally and abroad including the International Conference on Design Principles & Practices, Surface AIGA Design Conference, MODE ReConnect Motion Design Education Summit, and Architecture_MPS Education, Design, and Practice. Rachael’s most recent work was her study conducted for her Ph.D. dissertation at North Carolina State University. Her study addressed how rare disease caretakers search online for health information and how interfaces can respond to a user’s cognitive state. Her research interests include user experience design, health communications, responsive user interfaces, and interactive information design.

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On Designing Belonging & Belonging in Design

By Victoria Rabelo Gerson

Belonging is a topic, word, a feeling, that I’ve been exploring in my own work since my early beginnings in graphic design in high school. I still look back at the short book I designed titled “Home” using photos of my travels through Brasil, where my family is from, as an important artifact. In this book, I documented my thoughts and feelings during my trip to Brasil and wrote about feelings of belonging several times. I wrote about how family and friends from my mother’s home country made me feel so accepted, even after not seeing them for 5 years. How everyone let me in, making me feel like I was where I belonged. I wrote about how “never before had I felt like I’d seen my mother for who she truly is until I saw her in the place she so obviously belongs (Figure 1).” And about “the assurance of knowing who I am, where I came from… feeling like I belong in this place and in this skin.”  

Figure 1.

When I went off to study graphic design in college, I continued to investigate these themes of background, heritage, and culture. I designed a set of fifty postcards, each featuring a photo from my travels across both Brasil and the US. I came up with the idea for a food service inspired by my mom’s homemade and traditional Brasilian cooking. I was inspired by the nature of handmade and manual processes that are prominent within Brasil and used my sculpture classes and access to the fab lab to handmake cooking utensils and laser cut doilies mirroring the hand-sewn doilies my grandmother used to make (Figure 2). I did a rebrand of the city of Vitoria, the city where most of my family resides. And all of this, as a search for my own culture and heritage. I have used design time and time again as a tool to learn more about where I come from, in pursuit of belonging.

Figure 2.

On Belonging & Othering

My final project in college was called “Other” (Figure 3), I wanted to create a platform where people who have a common experience of trying to understand their mixed cultures can share their experiences, feelings, and thoughts on their identities. Particularly those who identify as being in the middle of cultures, who may feel like they don’t identify with one or the other and find themselves in a unique middle space where one may feel in-between. In this, I was looking beyond my own experience and wanting to understand the experience of those around me. I wanted to see our thoughts, ideas, dreams, and experiences represented in the world.

Figure 3.

On Design Ethics

As I went through graduate school, I was busy learning how to do design research, working at the VR studio in the university’s library, volunteering and protesting, and writing a thesis. I was not as concerned with my cultural background or heritage, as I was with pursuing things related to my concerns for certain social issues such as climate change, questioning the ethics of graphic design, and wanting to understand how design could be used for good.

In response to the AIGA Designer of 2025 Design Futures Trends: Core Values Matter, my classmates Shadrick Addy, Harrison Lyman, and I created and ran a workshop with our cohort that we called “The MGD Code of Ethics”. In this workshop, our classmates collaborated to co-create a manifesto, or code of ethics, outlining a collective code of ethics for their design practice (Figure 4). 

Figure 4.

Today, I’m a design educator and professor who teaches design students in the classroom, and this workshop was deeply influential in how I approach teaching in the classroom. I realized that “good” was subjective, and if anyone was going to design “for good,” they would have to define that for themselves. So how can an individual, or a designer, know what design “for good” is for them if they don’t investigate and reflect on their own values, goals, visions, and ideals for the future? We must connect with those parts of ourselves to know what pursuits align with our own moral compasses. I have continued to do this workshop with students across many courses and levels.

On Design Ethics + Identity:

To make those connections between design ethics + identity, I created a project that complements the Code of Ethics workshop, what I now call the Identity Canvas or Identity Mapping workshop. I developed a series of questions that cover a past/present story of self, social identities, communities, goals, values, and a future story of self. Students answer these questions and prompts, visualizing them though a mind map (Figure 5). Once the mind map is complete, students are asked to create a piece that represents various parts of their identity, based on this mapping.

Figure 5.

This project is medium agnostic, allowing for a diverse range of explorations and deliverables. Ranging from zines as guides for queer students, proposals for new schools for marginalized communities (Figure 6), and animations exploring non-binary identity.

Figure 6.

I have run the Code of Ethics workshop and the Design Identity Mapping workshop together, individually, and in different orders, with both undergraduate, graduate, and mixed courses. Students identify that their positionalities manifest into their values, which make up their manifesto or statements of design practice. As graduate student Narayan Ghiotto stated in a written reflection, the values, beliefs, and paradigms we live by and within form the essence of our identity, and the manifesto creation experience illuminates the importance of consciously choosing the values we live by in order to purposefully act on them.

I have created activities and projects that ask students to bring their perspectives, worldviews, cultures and influences into their work to develop feelings of belonging in the design classroom, field of design, and society at large. The purpose of these workshops and projects is for students to understand how their own identities, backgrounds, values, goals, communities, and interests play a part in forming their design ethics and design identity. I want students to understand that what’s important to them does belong in their work, and they can do work about what is important to them. But in order to get there, they must investigate their identities and develop a design ethic.

 

Victoria Gerson, MGD ‘20, is a designer, researcher, and educator from Miami, FL. She has Brasilian heritage and comes from a line of teachers who inspired her to become an educator.

She is based in Gainesville, FL, and teaches undergraduate and graduate graphic design courses at the University of Florida. Previously, she was a Scholar-in-Residence at the University of Houston. Victoria has developed classes on design activism and seminars on topics relating to design ethics, social responsibility, and identity + positionality.

Victoria received a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Graphic Design from the University of Florida, and a Master in Graphic Design from North Carolina State University. In her graduate work, she explored emerging technologies as a tool for educational purposes such as climate change communication and science education. She uses collage as a medium for responding to socio-political issues within the classroom and as a personal practice. Her work and research explores localized techniques, traditions, and cultural heritage.

Website
Instagram: @vixyyy

 

 

 

From One to Many

By Michael Carbaugh

Finding a sense of belonging across disciplines as a design team of one

After spending a decade on large enterprise design teams as a user experience designer, I couldn’t shake my curiosity. I wanted to know what it would be like to lead design at a small company that aligned closely with my values and interests. With fortunate timing and a little bit of luck, I’ve been able to spend the last year as a solo UX designer for a summer camp management software company. While I was ecstatic to find my dream position, I struggled to let go of the fear of feeling isolated knowing I’d be a design team of one.

I assumed that I’d need to exhibit more self-reliance and independence at work than I had as part of a large design team. How wrong I was! All it took was working on my first major feature that incorporated the input of many different roles, a revamped email communication tool. Starting out uncovering our user’s needs and the pain points, I quickly realized that when I made design practice more inclusive and collaborative with colleagues on other teams we all became more engaged. It also enabled design to have a larger impact than I could make on my own. While I still have plenty to learn through trial and error, I’ve recognized three themes that have helped create a sense of belonging and community for design within the company at large.

1 / Make Process Visible

When design projects lack clarity, feel overwhelming, or are restricted by tight timelines, it’s far too easy to feel the need to retreat and work quietly behind the scenes to progress as fast as possible. I’ve learned that falling into this trap leaves my colleagues yearning for more context and collaboration. Creating products should always be a team effort.

By making the design process transparent across teams, trust and confidence is built that design is doing the right thing. And even more importantly, visibility encourages colleagues to play a role in an inclusive environment where everyone’s input can make the product better. A job title isn’t a barrier to embracing design thinking, and participating in it together builds a stronger community. By sharing artifacts such as user research findings, pros and cons of different design approaches, and user feedback, colleagues also become more engaged by understanding the ‘why’ behind projects. Our work has a direct impact on our
users and understanding that impact on every project unites our team around a
common purpose.

2 / Identify Common Skills and Interests

As a designer supporting multiple products, trying to incorporate methods from the full lifecycle of the design process is a tough balancing act. With many design projects running in parallel,, there simply isn’t enough time to spend with end users for research, or to gather analytics for feedback. As I began to realize how similar my mindset on projects was to colleagues in other disciplines, I tried teaming up with them to see if we could make more progress together.

Our product managers have a deep knowledge of our users, schedule conversations with them, and are eager to know our product designs will achieve their intended results. By collaborating on user tests to evaluate in-progress designs and running through best practices, we’ve been able to distribute the way we handle user testing to get more done than I could have alone  and we also gain empathy for the responsibilities we have in our individual roles.

3 / Visualize the Future

As designers, we know why our field is so valuable, but it’s not always easy to communicate that value to others. One of my responsibilities has been to use design to support our product strategy, creating prototypes of where we want to be in the next few years. It’s been exciting to dream a little bit and take a step back from the details of typical projects. By accompanying our vision not with words or numbers but visual representations of where we want to go, we’ve ended up with many outcomes I wouldn’t have anticipated. 

Many teams that designers don’t interact with as often, like sales and support, have said that they better understand where we’re headed and feel excited about the future. In addition to that, having more visibility into our design strategy has helped to validate and evaluate what we think is important in the future. I’ve had the fortune of hearing many types of feedback directly: our direction will help ease the burden on support teams facing frequent challenges, our products will be easier to showcase when we sell them, and our collaborative efforts will spark new ideas.

What’s Next?

Being a UX design team of one in a technology company may appear limiting or isolating, but  there’s a tremendous opportunity to create a sense of belonging for design by engaging colleagues in other disciplines. Embracing the principles of design thinking applies not just in the way we approach design work, but also in how we engage within the organization as a whole. I don’t just want to create products our end users love (though that’s certainly rewarding), I want to build a workplace where my colleagues feel valued and involved in design.

 

Michael Carbaugh is currently a Senior UI/UX Designer at Campminder, a SaaS company that builds summer camp management software. In his professional practice Michael enjoys being a generalist, striving to find the ideal balance between seeing design through a strategic lens and jumping into the details of day-to-day design work. Before working at Campminder he spent a decade as a User Experience Designer for large enterprise companies including IQVIA and IBM, occasionally taking on freelance side projects for traditional graphic design work.

Before working professionally he earned his Master of Graphic Design degree at North Carolina State University in 2012, where his thesis work investigated the use of emerging mobile technologies to facilitate and encourage civic engagement in city planning. Prior to attending graduate school, he received his BFA in Graphic Design from Drake University and held design internships at cultural institutions including the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago.

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Design for Awkwardness: Belonging in Intercultural Teamwork

By Kelly Murdoch-Kitt & Dr. Denielle Emans

Introduction

Design for belonging has been the foundational value of our research, teaching, and creative practice since our collaboration began in 2011. Long intrigued by the intersection of design, education, and culture, we launched a study of remote intercultural design teams that continues to the present. Our research focuses on Collaborative Online Intercultural Learning (COIL), specifically in Intercultural Design Collaboration (IDC). Based on the belief that systemic challenges require multi-perspective ideas, we bring students together through IDC to collaborate on sustainability topics and related wicked problems. Like design practice itself, IDC is project-based and provides an experiential learning opportunity for students to explore themselves and their cultures through teamwork and design. 

Our study reveals that international collaboration on global challenges positively affects student engagement in these topics. Bringing different perspectives together for more creative problem-solving helps students compare how various issues manifest in different parts of the world and enables them to connect with challenges beyond their own cities. Students learn to build trust, belonging, and collaborative outcomes as they exchange ideas, conflicting views, and dissenting opinions. Alongside these highlights, of course, are plenty of opportunities for cringe moments. 

Our book: Intercultural Collaboration by Design

As an innovative approach to COIL, we create and utilize visual thinking and collaborative design methods within intercultural learning environments, which is detailed in our book, Intercultural Collaboration by Design, published in 2020 (Figure 1). Our ongoing study has engaged over 400 participants from 24 countries and seven different academic institutions. The visual thinking methods we describe in Intercultural Collaboration by Design have been implemented by k–12 and university-level educators across a wide range of disciplines (including biology, performing arts, urban planning, mathematics, physical education, English Language Arts, engineering, and others). 

Figure 1. Intercultural Collaboration by Design: Drawing from Differences, Distances, and Disciplines Through Visual Thinking. Written by Kelly M. Murdoch-Kitt & Dr. Denielle J. Emans (Routledge, 2020)

A survey of design practitioners and educators initially informed our research. Like us, these early survey respondents believed that intercultural learning was essential to the future of creative practice. The subsequent study evolved to include developing, testing, and refining activities to connect and encourage collaboration between our distant design classrooms. At the start of our study, we were teaching in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, and San Francisco, United States of America. Just your basic 11 to 12-hour time difference—and before the widespread use of videoconferencing or virtual whiteboards.

We continue to pursue our research in supporting intercultural collaboration as an integral part of our teaching at our respective universities and as co-principal investigators of our research group, ORBIT Labs. The interdisciplinary and multigenerational team of student researchers we supervise through ORBIT Labs (Figure 2) pursue a variety of projects related to bridging differences as a pathway toward social change. (Incidentally, ORBIT stands for Online Resources for Building Intercultural Teams.)

Figure 2. A recent ORBIT Labs team

Getting comfortable with the awkwardness of collaboration across cultures

Our approach to teaching intercultural collaboration is about learning to “design for awkwardness.” Helping designers-in-training to give visual form and expression to the awkwardness of teamwork enables them to approach collaboration with more acceptance and work with “friction.” Scholars of innovation, organizational studies, and collaborative practices agree that this friction, sometimes called creative abrasion, is ultimately positive because of its potential to create unique new outcomes. Thus, learning to surface, discuss, and work through differences is an asset to creative practice and a starting point for addressing complex challenges such as the climate crisis. 

However, as humans, we tend to minimize our differences and seek commonalities to avoid conflict. Why incur the wrath of another living organism who could prove to be a threat? While seeking commonality is a natural survival instinct, it cannot help us address the larger threats we face today, such as climate change and social ills. We must learn how to work together with our differences to ensure the survival of all living things. To achieve this, we must also develop conscientious and regenerative creative practices that challenge the historically capitalist orientation of the design industry. Design scholar and futurist Tony Fry refers to this evolution of conscientious design as redirective practice.

Of course, this all sounds very romantic: “Let’s bring students from different countries and cultures together using remote tools and teach them to design a way out of our climate crisis!” However, in reality, it is thoroughly messy work. The self-consciousness of a typical, co-located classroom is magnified exponentially when students from different schools, countries, languages, and cultures are thrown together and asked to collaborate. Teams struggle to find a starting point, whether with each other, the design process, or a given problem. Moreover, friction is inevitable when combining disparate personalities, backgrounds, working styles, and life experiences. This inevitability can be intimidating, if not debilitating. To address these challenges, we have developed the Six Dimensions of Intercultural Teamwork (Figure 3).

Figure 3. Six Dimensions of Intercultural Teamwork (Murdoch-Kitt & Emans, 2020)

The six dimensions as a structure to build belonging

Through our study, we developed a theory that intentional visual thinking activities created for exchange enhance intercultural teamwork. We present our theory through a framework called the Six Dimensions of Intercultural Teamwork. The Six Dimensions evolved from primary and secondary research on intercultural remote teams and the recurrent pain points in their teaming and collaboration processes. In addition to their benefits for teambuilding and design outcomes, implementing our visual thinking activities often boosts students’ curiosity, critical thinking, and engagement in cohorts of COIL students—compared to cohorts who did not utilize the activities. 

Contemplate: Discover Work Styles

The first phase of the Six Dimensions invites students to start small, focusing on themselves first as a prerequisite for becoming truly receptive and able to learn about others (Figure 4). This concept draws from Marcia B. Baxter Magolda’s constructive-developmental theory, which posits that self-understanding is a first step in understanding the world. Activities in this dimension help build self-awareness while cultivating community with peers in the same institution/geographic location. There are also reminders throughout this dimension that the collaborative experience is a shared journey of discovery.

Figure 4. Discover Work Styles (The Six Dimensions of Intercultural Teamwork, Murdoch-Kitt & Emans, 2020)

Relate: Understand Core Beliefs, Establish Trust

From here, the following two dimensions help teams to scale up slowly as participants learn to understand core beliefs and establish trust (Figure 5). We don’t expect collaborative projects to happen immediately; instilling confidence and engagement must come first. These dimensions are thus focused on parallel activities across international classrooms to encourage community-building, sharing, and—ultimately—belonging. 

At these early stages, participants are not designing for the project yet—they are designing to understand themselves and each other better. They are designing the team dynamic and learning to work together before the project begins. Teamwork is the project within the project.

Figure 5. Understand Core Beliefs & Establish Trust (The Six Dimensions of Intercultural Teamwork, Murdoch-Kitt & Emans, 2020)

Investigate: Assess Information, Decode Communication Styles

The processes embedded in dimensions four and five help students come together and find a sense of belonging in exploring a shared topic (Figure 6). The activities in these dimensions encourage deeper sharing, content exchange, feedback exchange, and a focus on interpersonal skills. Teams typically begin to identify possible shared topics or problems within these phases. Activities that explicitly address teammates’ skills, ambitions, and orientation toward different types of goal-setting help move them into the phase of creative action. 

Figure 6. Assess Information & Decode Communication Styles (The Six Dimensions of Intercultural Teamwork, Murdoch-Kitt & Emans, 2020)

Create: Design Shared Goals

Design Shared Goals is the final phase of the Six Dimensions of Intercultural Teamwork (Figure 7). Here, focusing on a shared concern, such as our earlier example of the climate crisis, is the basis for project-based learning. Collaborative projects bring people together and motivate them to share their different perspectives on the problem or ideas to resolve it. Also, it can be rewarding and fun!  

Figure 7. Design Shared Goals (The Six Dimensions of Intercultural Teamwork, Murdoch-Kitt & Emans, 2020)

Belonging and difference in teamwork

The Six Dimensions of Intercultural Teamwork build up to a “design phase,” but design is truly present throughout the entire process. It is the mediator between worlds and helps teammates build the necessary bridges that make it possible to develop a project together. In a sense, there are two projects at hand in a COIL course: the design project as an outcome AND the project of building the team—or belongingness—by establishing trust, exchanging ideas, cultivating cultural appreciation, and growing mutual respect. 

Design as a shared language

Because our human tendency is to first hunt for similarities, design can provide some common ground before veering into the more challenging territory of difference. Readers with a background in visual communication are probably familiar with the adage that design makes the strange familiar and the familiar strange. Leaning into this idea helps intercultural teammates understand how their unique perspectives can be perceived as both familiar and strange, depending on the context. In turn, they more easily overcome the initial awkwardness embedded in differences or socio-cultural barriers because of design’s ability to communicate and elicit diverse perspectives. 

In addition to the shared lexicon of design, we encourage teams to create and exchange boundary objects—to inform conversation and topics for discussion. According to Arias and Fischer (2000), boundary objects can be physical objects that generate shared understanding across diverse teams and disciplinary boundaries. Instead of centering discussions on the individual or their so-called difference, the object becomes the center of attention. In other words, design becomes the starting point for discussion, reducing the awkwardness of a typical video call focal point: strangers’ facial expressions in digital rectangles. 

Belonging in the world

Focusing on belonging is vital to this ongoing research because it simultaneously underlies and propels responsible and conscientious ethnography, participatory and action research methods, and practice-based studies. Cultivating belongingness in creative practice is particularly essential for teams to channel their diverse perspectives into innovative approaches to build community. Even when differences arise, design helps create a shared language that unites our participants and enables them to discuss and value differences. Students gain the confidence to reveal not only what they have in common but also what makes them different from each other. 

In the bigger picture of creative practice for global challenges, the Six Dimensions of Intercultural Teamwork and the skills we teach in IDC are transferable beyond the classroom. Collaboration, teamwork, and their synonyms are intertwined with the practice of 21st-century design. We see the inevitability of teamwork as a design problem that can be addressed by intentionally and slowly building relationships. Finding the courage to bring our differences to the table enriches the learning experience and our potential to push beyond our boundaries or typical approaches. 

As designers, we must find ways to proactively diversify the discipline because transformative social change requires multiple perspectives, ideas, and people. Only together can we begin to resolve the world’s most pressing challenges. And in taking responsibility for these problems together, we cultivate a greater sense of belonging in our shared world.

 

Kelly Murdoch-Kitt is an Associate Professor at the Penny W. Stamps School of Art and Design at the University of Michigan. She is a user experience designer and educator focused on people, systems, and interpersonal interactions. In her work and teaching, human connection drives the creation of effective and socially responsible concepts. She integrates visual communication, user experience, and service design with behavior change and social engagement, drawing on her industry experience as a user experience strategist in the San Francisco Bay Area. Prior to joining U-M, Murdoch-Kitt served as an Assistant Professor in the School of Design at the Rochester Institute of Technology. She also taught in the Graphic Design Programs at the University of San Francisco and California College of the Arts. Her excellence in teaching and contributions to service within the discipline have been recognized by the Design Incubation Communication Design Educator Awards: Intercultural Design Collaborations in Sustainability; and the Decipher 2018 Design Educators Research Conference.

Dr. Denielle Emans is an Assistant Professor of Graphic Design in the Department of Media + Design + Communication at Roger Williams University. She is passionate about intercultural design,  interdisciplinary collaboration, and international education. Before joining the Feinstein School of Humanities, Arts, and Education faculty, Dr. Emans spent more than a decade teaching in the Gulf Arab Region of the Middle East. She served as an Associate Professor at Virginia Commonwealth University School of the Arts in Qatar and taught as an Assistant Professor at Zayed University in Dubai, United Arab Emirates. Dr. Emans holds a Ph.D. in Communication for Social Change from the University of Queensland, Australia; a Master’s degree in Graphic Design from North Carolina State University’s School of Design; and a Bachelor of Arts in Communications from the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. Her excellence in teaching has been recognized by the Design Incubation Communication Design Educator Awards: Intercultural Design Collaborations in Sustainability; and VCUarts Qatar’s Distinguished Achievement in Teaching Award.

Together, Murdoch-Kitt and Emans are co-authors of the book Intercultural Collaboration by Design: Drawing from Differences, Distances, and Disciplines through Visual Thinking, which was published on Routledge’s sustainability list in 2020. Based on their research, the book offers more than 30 visual thinking activities to support effective collaboration among diverse teams. Their research group, ORBIT Labs (Online Resource for Building Intercultural Teams), was recently recognized as a recipient of the 2022 Carol Hollenshead Inspire Award for Excellence in Promoting Equity and Social Change. Murdoch-Kitt and Emans are currently working together on a new book about the intersection of creative practice and psychological resilience, which argues that everyone can learn to become creatively resilient—and put methods of adaptability, flexibility, and optimism into practice. Its 15 case studies include various projects, practices, and activities that show readers how to utilize creative methods to work positively with uncertainty. They are also developing the second edition of Intercultural Collaboration by Design.

Murdoch-Kitt and Emans would love to be a resource for the NCSU community. If you would like to learn more about our research or are interested in future collaborations, please reach out! orbit-team@umich.edu