How being a dad makes me a better UX designer
6 ways to mature into maturity
My journey as an amateur dad is about as long as my journey as a professional designer.
All along the way, I’ve held deep questions about those definitions. I’ve had questions about the things that I’m making. The critiques about the work I produced were as cutting as the critiques about the kids I parented.
In either situation, I’ve determined that what you make isn’t nearly as important as who you make.
There’s danger in this definition: who I am is defined by what I make.
This is a lie. Designers (and dads) believe this lie like we’re afflicted with a disease.
At times, I still believe this lie. I feel liberty when I root into this concept: I am well-made and valuable, already.
Maturing into who I wanted to be started with realizing who I already am.
My first step toward maturity started as a literal pile of poo. 💩
Making bonehead dad-choices are a speciality of mine. It’s probably not something I should admit so openly, but I’ve made some doozies.
When my son was pretty young, and in diapers, I was a self-described pro-diaper changer. I changed diapers like a master Rubick’s Cuber — memorized algorithms, sheer speed, and defiant accuracy.
On one occasion at my sister-and-brother-in-law’s new house, I decided to change my son’s diaper on their carpeted floor — with haste. We were running behind schedule on something, and he got pretty fussy about his garbage-dump diaper slopping around in his pants.
It was go-time.
My wife Michelle suggested I use a changing table and get prepared for the worst. I ignored her honest suggestion.
Instead, I gently laid the little dude on the floor, and started our routine. I reached for the side-tab of his rather foul-smelling diaper.
Cavalier in my motion, I pulled open the diaper like it was a grenade pin.
Boom. Explosive. 💥
A poo grenade that savagely sprayed. Everywhere.
Because I was Mr. Rubick’s-Cube-Diaper-King, I hadn’t really matured into understanding how dangerous these sort of situations would be. I didn’t read the signs. I was so proud of my abilities. I was impatient and just wanted to get it done. I even ignored an expert opinion (my wife, his mom).
That day, I started a maturity journey.
It was gross.
There are key attributes of a mature person that mark a maturity journey.
As a dad, I want these for my kids as they become future-adults.
As a design leader, I want these for my team and for me.
I’m starting to see — a few years into this maturity journey — that those who mature faster than their peers will be looked to for leadership in whatever they do. These attributes of maturity are key indicators of how you might perform as a designer.
On blogs and Medium, there are tons of articles on how to design a more performant search tool, or how to build a design system, or even how to have good taste. Those topics are great. But we hire, parent, live, and are more than a set of skills.
Again, what you make isn’t nearly as important as who you make.
A mature person can keep long-term commitments
For my kids, this means perseverance and seeing that each practice session for sports, music, or reading all accumulates to a grander vision. And most grand visions require long-term commitments. It’s too easy to drop a long-term commitment for a short-term gain.
As a designer, the ability to see the big picture gets us out of a boxed-in mindset to look for ways to serve the customer, the business, and the medium/technology. Unfortunately, this designer is rarely found on Dribbble.
A mature person isn’t swayed by flattery or criticism
For my kids, this means that they are secure in who they are because they’ve heard their value spoken from me or their mom or from people who count. Unfortunately, hearing flattery or criticism often stings the most when it comes from people who “don’t count.”
As a designer, there is an art and a science to taking feedback on our work. I should embrace critique that examines the issues found in my proposed solutions. I should not let that overreach and speak to my own personal value. Further, flattery or criticism is truly ephemeral — lighten up a bit and don’t take yourself too seriously.
A mature person is humble and prioritizes others before themselves
For my kids, we want to build an “others first” mentality and put the needs of others above our own. This is the antidote to ego. This is counter-cultural in every way. This builds a people-over-things attitude. This is probably the thing we all struggle the most with, but need it more than ever.
As a designer, we can easily get so enamored with our own creations, drop shadows, and color combinations that we forget that design is about people. As crazy as it sounds, we need to remove the pretense that we’re even making anything new. The truthiest thing about design is that the need never changes, but the solution always does. What I thought was novel was really just a remix. That keeps me humble.
A mature person decides with character, not feeling.
For my kids, if they only ever acted on their feelings, they’d never do anything tough. None of us would. But, character is doing the right thing when no one is watching and even when you don’t feel like doing it. It’s the kind of thing that makes a person trustworthy.
As a designer, a lot of who you are is imprinted on what you make. The creation always has fingerprints from its creator. Likewise, when people doubt the product, they doubt the maker. If you want to build products that people trust, start by being trustworthy in who you are.
A mature person looks for wisdom before acting
For my kids, we want them to not only be wise, but “walk with the wise.” We center ourselves from the book of Proverbs: “Walk with the wise and become wise; a companion of fools suffers harm.” You don’t even need to be foolish to suffer harm — just have friends who are fools. Most of us act before considering wisdom. How different would we be if we at least considered a wise decision?
As a designer, we act on subjectivity and bias cavalierly. We shouldn’t. We might actually be compensating for fear. By looking to outside counsel, research, advice, and observation, we can start knowing better. And knowing can drive out fear. And fearless design is rooted in wisdom.
A mature person effortlessly and continually says “Thank you”
For my kids, genuine and spoken appreciation is gold. Hearing unprompted “Thank you’s” sets them apart from the crowd. A thankful person connects the dots between themselves and another. It shortens the distance between our broken humanity and rises above a sea of unkindness.
As a designer, I’ve learned egotists don’t thrive. They may have sudden bursts of confidence, but it usually crashes (and then begins the thrashing). I want people who work with and near me who I genuinely am thankful for not only their presence, but their work. There is real ROI when you come with a thankful attitude to your work.
I’m probably one of the least mature adults that I know.
In so many ways, my 11-year-old son is more mature than I am. He’s changed a lot since I changed that grenade-of-a-diaper.
During a recent health issue with my own dad (his Papa), he sent me this text:
That kid is so mature. On his way to the maturity hall of fame.
I just need to remember it’s who — not what — that is important.
