During our spring 2023 graduate design studio course led by Jayme Yen, my cohort and I collaborated to establish UnSchool, a captivating pop-up design school. We aimed to provide free and inclusive classes, welcoming individuals from all backgrounds without requiring prior design experience. Each of us had the opportunity to offer a new vision of teaching and learning design, offering an innovative approach to design education. In my workshop, I introduced the concept of cropping as a powerful language in itself. Emphasizing that complex skills were unnecessary, I encouraged participants to explore the transformative potential of simple composition, breathing new life into discarded photographs. By the end of the workshop, they had skillfully transformed a mundane picture into a captivating movie poster. This teaching experience has proven immensely valuable to me, broadening my horizons and enriching my journey in the master of design program.

I’ll be honest—coming into the MDes program at UW was intimidating. My undergraduate degrees in Anthropology and Political Science had trained me to think in Word documents, not Figma; create essays, not visualizations; and most concerning to me—uncover human insights but not act upon them. As I am approaching the end of my first year as an MDes student, I feel reassured that my non-design background has, instead, strengthened my design perspective. The social sciences challenge us to inquire about, draw connections between and deeply understand human behavior which all complement and inform the design process. I’ve spent this year diving deeper into the craft of design, turning my attention to detail, learning the tools and expanding my knowledge of what design can be. I believe having a non-design background, while not always easy, provides a rich and expansive toolkit to pull from. The variety of backgrounds (non-design, tangential to design and traditional design degrees) within our MDes cohort has made me a more sensitive and intentional designer, giving me the confidence to tackle diverse, wide-ranging projects.

I’ve often reflected on how happy I am that I chose the MDes program at the University of Washington. In addition to a broad and deep critical design education, it gave me opportunities to teach—which is to practice being a design leader, under the mentorship of experienced professors. That prepared me well as an emerging leader in the industry following graduation. It taught me to have a perspective, and to own it. It taught me how to build diverse and highly effective teams, and it taught me how to inspire others around me—all of which I use every single day in my work. It also connected me to a network of other designers and thought leaders, who helped me transition smoothly from Academia to Industry. I can’t recommend the program and its professors highly enough, they’ve had a profound impact on my life and my career—for which I have much gratitude.

“Do a thesis only you can do,” was the lucky advice I received at the early stages of my thesis process. These words stuck with me as I struggled to separate what I thought would matter to others, from what truly mattered to me. During my first year of graduate school, someone very important to me died of an accidental opioid overdose. Telling his story and wrestling with the wicked problem space of chronic pain, helped me work through grief and fueled me creatively for 9 months of thesis work. Throughout this process I unpacked personal & emotional narratives and challenged myself to design a multi-sensory experience. These efforts culminated in building an immersive space (at the Henry Museum) for visitors to listen & personally reflect on curated audio narratives centered around the question: “Instead of killing pain, how might we manage it?” My thesis, Listening by Design, lives on as a collection of stories that challenges the culture of pain in America. I believe strongly that selecting a thesis topic which was deeply meaningful to me, unlocked an experience that naturally & authentically engaged others—the mission of worthwhile design.

One of the most beneficial things I heard from a faculty member was: “give yourself the time to experiment.” This pushed me to dive into a slew of design trials during my last year in the MDes program.

My thesis focused on a collection of three imagined books that communicate future projections of environmental change using design as a storytelling tool. I was completely immersed in the books’ worlds, considering visual forms, materials, and content.

One experiment that worked well was mixing physical and digital imaging processes. I printed out plant samples on white paper, added others onto tracing paper, and layered these in a scanner. This created an interesting textured and dimensional effect that would have been difficult to achieve otherwise.

Another successful test was making paper out of found materials. One thing I learned was that t-shirts are hard to work with (my $15 blender was smoking by the end!), but that the paper was bonded together enough to print onto it easily.

One failed experiment was using cyanotype to visualize foods for a cookbook. The sun was too scarce that day, and a lot of the produce didn’t have easily definable shapes. Although I didn’t use the images, it was worthwhile to learn more about the process and know how to move forward from it.

The three books are a combination of many successful and failed experiments. They serve as a constant reminder in my practice today: just try it, even if it doesn’t work!

I took the 3-year track of the MDes program because my background in design was limited and I wanted to develop my visual design skills. The additional year gave me the opportunity to focus on developing my craft and, more importantly, gain confidence in my practice as a designer. I thoroughly enjoyed immersing myself in studio courses, as humbling as it was, to challenge myself in type design, physical and video prototyping, exhibit design, and information design. It was truly a privilege to have the time and space to really just explore the breadth of what the design field is and can be, and I came away with much more than the visual skills I initially sought. I was also able to take classes and make connections outside of the department, which helped pave the way to learn through collaborations with graduate students and faculty across campus.

I still benefit from this experience today. Although in my current role I mostly focus on design research, I feel I can help bridge research insights to design more fluidly because of the knowledge and practice I developed during my time in the MDes program.

Becoming a Teaching Assistant and teaching Design 166 for the first time was nerve wracking. I felt like I was going to be out of my depths and wasn’t even sure where to begin. How will I lead a critique that is both engaging and informative? Would I know what to say? Will I just be talking to a quiet zoom? I had a swell of thoughts, questions, and insecurities. But after my first critique jitters, it was surprisingly less intimidating than I expected. The instructor’s guidance and the other TA who became my go to person, helped me to find steady footing. The most rewarding part of this experience was seeing the drive of the students who came through Design 166, despite the situation of the pandemic. Their ability to understand and discuss their work with their peers, provide insightful feedback and the progression of their designs made the experience, all in all, wonderful!

During my time in the Master of Design program, I was able to work very closely with other UW departments, including the Memory and Brain Wellness Center. This connection was made during Professor Cheng’s class, and would become imperative for my thesis. My thesis, Design for Creative Aging, focused on creating art and design curriculum for folks living in memory units within nursing homes.

Through my connections at the UW, I was able to partner with subject matter experts in palliative and memory care, which provided me with insight that I gathered through interviews and discussions. My initial thesis inquiry was autobiographical; however, once I began working with participants, my initial inquiry altered, and I was able to develop new questions throughout the process. While all workshops and sessions were supposed to be completed in person, Covid had other plans. Thankfully, all of the participants and caregivers at the nursing home were willing to try and accomplish the curriculum through virtual sessions.

My connections to UW Memory and Brain Wellness Center have lasted long after graduation—I currently volunteer for the Center and am helping with the new Hub for Dementia Friendly Communities, set to open in December.

After spending eight years in California, I finally settled in Seattle. Humid, cold, and coffee, these three words were my first impressions about Seattle. Waking up in the morning and walking on a path on UW campus, sometimes I feel I am still in a hazy dream. Since the pandemic began, I felt stuck in front of my small desk and my computer. And now, finally, I can walk outside, meet new people, and communicate with them, though with the mask on, but when everything is gradually going back to as normal as it used to be. It did make me nervous, but it is also exciting and sometimes strange. Autumn is breathtaking in Seattle. Orange, yellow, and red are all around, everywhere. After raining, all these flaming colors are like vivid spring flowers that bloom in the dull grey weather. When I see and feel these, I wish the time could stop here indefinitely.

When starting a Master of Design, some grads enter the program open-minded, while others enter with a game plan. While there is no right or wrong way to do this, I started the program on the latter track.

Because I had a general idea of what I wanted to accomplish, it made the process of choosing a thesis chair a bit easier. I knew I wanted to work with a faculty member that was familiar with my subject area, was an experienced researcher, and most importantly, would help me keep my work on track and moving forward at a good pace. When it came to choosing my committee members, however, I was less sure. What was surprising and wonderful about the process was that we could choose to work with someone outside of our department, or even experts outside of the University – there were so many options!

In the end, I asked a professor with a different yet complimentary skillset to be on my committee, which worked out very well. When choosing your thesis chair and committee, make sure they’re on board with what you want to accomplish and that you enjoy working with them!

At the culmination of our final year, our MDes cohort designed installations of our thesis work to share with the greater community. After a year deep in research, prototyping and writing, it was invigorating to switch into a new mode of creation with an objective to share what had sparked our interest and pulled us in deep during our final year with the students and faculty at UW.

My thesis addressed an urgent issue facing my community of commercial fishermen in Alaska. Bristol Bay, the world’s last great salmon fishery, is threatened by plans to develop the largest open-pit mine in North America – Pebble Mine. According to EPA scientists, this gold and copper mind would result in a complete loss of fish habitat. My thesis explored ways design could help advocates for Bristol Bay successfully oppose mining interests – by creating communications that are targeted towards key decision makers at the federal, state and local level, and by engaging stakeholders in a community campaign to last the duration of the mine’s permitting process. With my installation at the Henry, I wanted to introduce the public to Bristol Bay’s natural abundance, culture and community, and to give viewers a glimpse of the why the Pebble Mine would be the wrong mine in the wrong place. I also wanted to offer tools for those urged to learn more about the issue and get involved. I created a pop-up display with materials and merchandise that could easily travel and be set up at events to reach new audiences. With t-shirts, mugs, stickers, an Action Pack filled with postcards to key legislators, a social media and website storytelling platform, and other ways for the public to participate, the goal of the display was to be both engaging, informative and delightful. My challenge was to create something in a small gallery space that anyone, regardless of their previous knowledge of the Pebble Mine issue, could see and leave feeling empowered to act.

I would misrepresent myself if I gave some quick and clean account of how my thesis research developed. In hindsight, it came together through a series of self-discoveries, lucky opportunities, and community guidance over the course of the two years of my MDes. The first year of the MDes allowed me to iterate through a range of ideas. Those iterations felt like ‘knocks’ on the door of my intuition. Paying attention to the knocks and opening the door, opened other doors, which opened doors and . . . one day I stood at the door of my thesis. This process of iteration also led me to hold a series of questions and interests at a meta-level, like an interest in embodiment, sustainability, technological mediation, democratic speculation, and research through design. I didn’t know how all of these would manifest in my final thesis research, but knowing I was interested in them guided my thesis in directions where I could try them out. Finally, with the guidance of my cohort and design faculty, I grounded my research in the familiar and personal subject of cycling. Connecting with a personal interest helped motivate and enrich my thesis research. In retrospect, doing research that is personally motivated just makes it easier.

Throughout my time in the MDes program, I was involved in plenty of research activities, ranging from focus groups in a hospital to camping with soldiers in the African savannah. During the first year of the MDes program, I undertook an independent study supervised by Professor Sang-gyeun Ahn, for which I investigated technology trends and speculated on the future of the industrial design profession and the evolving relationship between humans and their physical artifacts. This research ultimately culminated in a seminar presentation at the International Design Conference in Chicago, which was graciously funded by the UW design department. Fortuitously, during this independent study, Professor Sang-gyeun Ahn was approached by the Center for Dialysis Innovation (CDI) at the University of Washington, to assist them with an upcoming project for the department of Veterans Affairs. He and I assisted the CDI over the coming months and years with conceptual designs and user testing. As the close of my second year of the MDes program approached, the CDI offered me a role as their concept and experience design lead. My work at the CDI involves continual research, and as it so happens, I’m actually writing this post from a clinic where I’m currently conducting a series of contextual inquiries.

As I approached the first year of the MDes program, I had absolutely no clue what to expect. A new city, a new academic system, and a new way of living for everyone was a lot to take in. However, I was soon comforted by the enthusiasm of my peers and the friendliness of the faculty. Each studio course challenged and stretched my creativity, yet each seminar reinforced a rigor to my written and visual presentations. In the spring, I faced a new challenge in deciding a thesis topic for the year to come. I’d be lying if I said me or my peers had it figured out in the slightest, but the faculty gave us room to stumble before guiding us in the right direction. As I reflect on it all, year one not only symbolized the journey to establish roots in a new home, but to always branch out into the unexplored. Although we were all behind a window in some form or fashion, there was always something beautiful going on behind the glass. I’m glad we all get to see it up close now.

One of my strongest takeaways as a teaching assistant at the University of Washington was the drive of the students who studied there. In all my years of teaching at the undergraduate level, I had never seen students as hardworking, talented, driven, and hungry for knowledge like I experienced at the School of Art + Art History + Design. Working with these students felt like a constant collaboration rather than a hierarchical system. They would constantly come to office hours and class with the most creative and outlandish ideas, and my only response could ever be "LET'S DO IT!"

These types of interactions inspired my own work, my own research, and reignited my passions for the arts and culture around design. My experience as a TA at the University of Washington was one I will never forget. Not only was the pay incredible, but the knowledge I was able to share and acquire from the students will continue to serve in my teaching pedagogy for years to come.

Working with the professional faculty and staff of UW gave me mentorship in areas of study I never knew I was missing. Every faculty member is a master of their craft and an expert in their field, and their guidance in your teaching methodology as a TA can only be defined in three words... "Research through Teaching."