Finding UX: Combining my two halves
This is my origin story of how I became a UX designer. This is where I came from
There I was on the first day of my last year of high school, sitting in my school’s fabled ‘museum,’ Mr. Delo’s room. It was filled with dozens of posters, paintings, knick-knacks, and artifacts from various places, and a door plastered with all things Toni Morrison. He had a very sagely aura about him, like a grounded version of Albus Dumbledore (minus the facial hair and wizard robes). He welcomed us to his space with three questions that will always stick with me:
Where did we come from?
Why are we here?
Where are we going?
These questions are deeply philosophical, in a sense like UX design. Design is more than making pretty things and making bank; it is a practice and its principles can often be seen as microcosms for life in general. But that’s a post for another time. Here I will describe my journey into UX with those three questions in mind. So, first thing’s first…
WHERE DID I COME FROM?
My First Loves
Wooden alphabet blocks and LEGO bricks were a huge part of my childhood. I loved stacking those blocks as high up as I could before they rained down onto the floor. I loved dumping assorted LEGO brick sets all over the floor in front of me and letting my imagination run wild, from building secret bases to game platforms to pirate ships and mansions. The love for creativity that I developed through play also showed through in my drawings. This was pivotal in developing my eye and attention to detail. I let my imagination flow using pencil and paper the way I let it flow into each brick or block. In my drawings, I wanted to capture the true essence of those sci-fi monsters, Super Saiyans, or shinobi, staying true to the source material while also developing and applying my own artistic vision. I was still curious to explore other media of creativity; that’s where our first PC system came in.
Around the time of the dot com bubble burst, we purchased our very own home computer system from Dell, back when cathode-ray tube monitors and mice with the ball in the underside were still the thing. Microsoft Paint was my first (and admittedly a super fun) experience in the world of digital art and design; Microsoft’s suite of games at the time (remember Space Cadet pinball?) were my window in a massive world of interactive storytelling and engagement — or, videogames. Producing and consuming creative works, from LEGO bricks in the real world to the LEGO Creator and Racers game series in the digital one, was what satisfied me most. At that point in my life I decided I wanted to pursue a creative career. Because I was enamored by the concept of interactive storytelling and just playing games, I set my heart on becoming a videogame designer. But, as is often the case in life, things don’t always go according to plan.
Great Expectations
In spite of my excitement to become a videogame designer, I was coaxed into considering a more prestigious career path (if you’re brown, you know that’s code for doctor or engineer, sometimes lawyer). Throughout my high school career I found myself constantly drawn to math and science — especially algebra, calculus, and human anatomy. I enjoyed constructing things as a toddler, but I found myself enjoying deconstructing things as a young adult. Dissection labs and complex math problems were my space to explore deconstructing complex systems and problems into smaller and more understandable bits. I excelled in these classes, and sought a college path that incorporated those two fields because I thought they were equal parts challenging and exciting. Upon enrolling at Rutgers University, I proudly declared my major to be Biomedical Engineering (this decision was also influenced by the fact my father has worn a prosthetic since the late 1970s).
By senior year, we broke off into groups and created our own engineering design projects based on the knowledge we’ve accumulated throughout our undergrad careers. My team and I came up with a money-saving proof-of-concept system to conduct total knee replacement surgeries, and we won third place of the 20+ groups that year. But, throughout that year, as we inched closer and closer to graduation, I felt the gas run empty. I didn’t know what it was called back then, but before I knew it, I’d been feeling burnout.
Subversion
I was facing an identity crisis. I was halfway through my last year of college and I felt the floodgates open. Did I pick the wrong major? Was I doing too much? Was I not doing enough? Nothing made sense anymore (and it wouldn’t be the last time I had to face this reality). During this time in my life, and for some years after, I found solace in writing poetry and drawing. These things didn’t necessarily make me happy, but they gave me a greater sense of purpose and accomplishment than my schoolwork did.
In early 2016, I picked up work as a research assistant at NYU Langone Health, working on 2 separate clinical trials in my 2 years there. The first was a small-scale study with a small-scale team. I was responsible for directly speaking to and recruiting visitors at the health center to complete a questionnaire to self-identify substance abuse, then by following up with visitors via an app that would help them monitor their usage. The second was much larger-scale and more behind-the-scenes. I believed in the missions behind these studies, but that alone didn’t fill what I feel I’ve been missing in my professional life, and it affected my mental health greatly.
I was losing too much of myself and my sense of purpose. I wasn’t in a place where I could make full use of my creative brain. I couldn’t see myself growing into the person I wanted to be, and it instilled in me equal parts anxiety and depression. To cope, I leaned more into writing poetry, taking pictures, and building out a digital space to host my works (from Wix to Weebly to Wordpress). Part of me felt like a kid again, playing with my LEGO bricks to synthesize something that was entirely my own. Soon after I completed my personal goal of fulfilling the second trial’s patient recruitment goal, I wanted out. I pivoted my career into education via the NYCTF program, as it seemed like a space where I could more freely apply my creative skills while doing work that more directly impacts lives. What greater an impact than shaping young minds and the next generation?
Summer of 2018 was full of its own trials and tribulations. Between teaching high school-level biology in summer school as training, my aunt’s passing, and other family health concerns, I crashed. Hard. Hardest I ever had in my life. Stepping in the shoes of a teacher was like opening Pandora’s Box; you hear of how tough or chaotic it can be but don’t understand until you’re there yourself. While I am eternally grateful for having made a positive impact on 30+ students’ lives for that brief time, I could not give my 100%. And if you can’t give 100% of yourself to your kids, you’ve already failed them. I also realized that I wasn’t using enough of my technical, quantitative, and analytical skills. Hell, I was barely struggling to breathe each day. I won’t lie and say it was easy to step away from my role, but it had to be done.
A New Hope
I also won’t lie and say I didn’t feel lost; I felt more lost than I had after graduating college, believe it or not! To keep myself busy, I volunteered at a prosthetics clinic that my father goes to (he and the owner go back a while). In my time there, I enjoyed hearing the stories of patients we visited more than the office work. In March of 2019 I picked myself back up, started applying to random jobs, and started learning front-end development through Codecademy. It was fascinating to learn how so many of my digital experiences came together to become what they are, albeit from a higher level. That intrigued me more than writing hundreds of lines and code, and I wondered if a career path like that existed. Then, Instagram’s ad algorithm actually came through; I saw an ad for an intro to UX design webinar hosted by Vincent Braithwaite, an instructor at General Assembly. After that 2-hour webinar, I felt a spark that I hadn’t felt in what seemed like years. This was it.
After some research and weighing my options, I enrolled in the Bloc bootcamp (which was acquired by Thinkful, which was then acquired by Chegg…so technically Chegg?) and for the first time in my life, I bet on myself for myself, free of any type of influence from anyone or anything. I fell into UX design by accident, and fell in love with it on purpose.
Thank you, dear reader, for joining me as I recount my journey into UX design! Where did you come from? What experiences have shaped you? How did you enter the UX field (or whichever career path you’re in)? I love hearing people’s stories and having a hearty conversation about life, UX, food, anime, Star Wars, and many many things in between! Let’s connect on LinkedIn, Twitter, or Clubhouse (@ayoubience)! And feel free to check my work out at https://ahmedayoub.design/. Cheers :)
