Let’s start with a truism: graphic design programs exist to produce graphic designers. It’s what the schools advertise they do and what students expect. That makes it only responsible for this (and every other) design education conference to discuss methods that will serve to turn out more qualified potential designers.
However, it’s a simple fact the majority of our graduates will not become working practitioners, irrespective of talent. There simply aren’t enough existing openings to accommodate the influx of new designers. Changing this reality in any significant extent is beyond our ability. (Economic forces are the primary determinant but designers need to work more of that “creating desire” on themselves.) For the foreseeable future—or longer—we will graduate more eventual non-designers than practitioners.
Should how and what we teach be affected by this reality? What, if any, responsibility do we have to these majority who will not become designers? Should we measure our success in number of graduates, number of working designers—or something else?
At ODU, twenty percent of our graduates have historically found work in design or design-related fields. (Our definition of the latter category may be too fluid for some but it’s always been a squeezing and stretching activity to define design.) For us, a design concentration under a studio art major at a regional state university, that’s good. But what about those other 80%? Even if the numbers were reversed, it’s a lot of people.
Of course, your results may vary. The mission, approach, and final results of an ODU, as opposed to a Portfolio Center, are different. (Do folks from Portfolio Center and such schools attend these kinds of conferences? Just wondering.) And there are a variety of institutions between and to either side of these two. Plus, while we faculty should have a good sense who will join the profession after graduation; there’s plenty of unknown variables. We can’t be sure where someone will wind up.
At universities, we have a broader mandate within which the design study resides. It’s all those lib ed requirements that keep students out of the studio and require frequent rationalization for their utility. Art schools will also have liberal art cores. Arguably, these studies produce a well-rounded, broadly educated individual. As we know, being paraded through a curriculum doesn’t guarantee learning. But you get a better shot than not.
Design faculty may rightly feel that it’s the job of other departments to provide depth, breadth—and options. Our role within this structure is to support and partner with other studies. We can and should concentrate on graphic design. Issues of students’ personal fortune, interests, and ambition after graduation—the aspects that determine what they’ll do after school—are ultimately not our province.
But we’re affected by both the “successes” and “failures.” With design programs continually burgeoning, an increasing number of design-trained non-designers will hit the street. There’s good and bad to this. The good is that they might have a heightened appreciation of design. This increases the pool of design-aware and design-friendly citizens. Unless we’ve alienated them in the process of educating them. The overall climate improves for design. Perhaps we should consider that we’re educating potential clients as much as practitioners.
Another way of framing this issue is how we define success as design educators. I placed “success” and “failure” in quotes above because it would be shortsighted to merely count numbers of design-employed alumni/ae. I count as successes those design-talented students I inspired to other pursuits (for a while, I was driving them all to art therapy—make of that what you will). Instead of solely listing graduates who are in distinctive design placements, should we name and number those holding worthy positions in other fields?
How much credit could we take for non-design success? I often find it often problematic how much credit I can take for design-successful students—even when they give me a shout-out. However, if we’re really providing an education, imparting things the field claims makes an exceptional practitioner (insight, discipline, articulation, critical thinking, social and cultural awareness, responsibility), we should be able to stake a claim. But do we want to?
Do you think about the majority who don’t become designers? If so, does it affect your teaching, and how?
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