I had a major milestone at work, and in reflecting on that, I realized I stopped sharing these events. Part of the reason is that I tend to keep my day job life out of this site. And part of the reason is my job has many challenges and I don’t like write about them. But there are some good lessons here, and they relate to design.
Let me wind back the clock to 2014. I left my job as a software engineer at Johns Hopkins University, flush with successful and cool projects in my portfolio. I began working in creative services at a state university, thinking it was a step forward. At the time, JHU’s tuition remission covered very little, while the state offered me any graduate degree I wanted, as long as it was offered by one of the state’s institutions. I very much wanted an MFA, and I eventually got one.
During my interview, the manager mentioned that there would be a new senior position to direct digital/content strategy. That was the deciding factor that made me want to come. I reasoned I could do the web stuff for a year, and learn the institution, positioning me to take on the director job. It was a gamble, in that I took a very significant pay cut to join his team.
My interview took place in the basement of a 1950’s era rancher that smelled like cats. This was a red flag, although I didn’t clock it. This basement, and the dining room above it, would be where I worked for the next five years. The physical distance to our colleagues on campus turned out to be a physical representation of our actual relationship to campus leadership. We were regarded merely as a service bureau more than partners, and my manager referred to us as “the kids table at Thanksgiving.” I met one of my dearest friends at this job, and some other very nice folks.
I was admittedly a little cocky when I started, and initially misinterpreted my boss’ stoic manner as laidback. It took a few months to figure out his communication style. He was livid when I told him I wanted to apply for the communication director job, and since he was on that hiring committee, I knew I had no chance.
I was hired, in part, to support the upcoming 50th anniversary of this young school. I made many websites. I reworked the undergraduate site several times, including a custom WordPress theme to match the homepage. I made a playful site that invited perspective and current students to be sorted into “houses,” based on personality traits and interests. One could be a Maker, Explorer, Thinker, Uniter or Solver, and the code that calculated the outcome was fun to write.
I reworked the university “News” site by designing a WordPress theme and importing hundreds of static HTML new articles into it. After several months and many rounds of “is this also what you do not want?”, I made a design in Photoshop based loosely on the way NPR handled categories. It was approved by the client and my manager. Once it was designed, coded and ready for production, the (then) Director of Communications (lets call her Donna) decided it was time to share the site with the (then) VP of our division (lets call her Dinosaur). Dinosaur rejected it outright. I didn’t get a chance to meet with either of them – I was just told to start over. I finally made a site that was in production for years, and the email template I designed is still in use as of this writing.
My mistake here, I think, is not spending enough time documenting the project and our collective design decisions. Design entails a great deal of persuasion, and reminding stakeholders of why we made certain choices. In this case, I thought Donna was the top most decision maker, and would at least advocate on the project’s behalf. Lesson Learned.
Next, I reworked the Magazine site, and moved on to many others: Professional Programs, stuff for the Imaging Research Center, the Alumni Association, and a lot of UTM/analytics stuff for radio and web marketing. I made a site for the new campus Event Center, and various fundraising initiatives.
Finally, years later, I got a change to rework the homepage.
Donna was filling in for the Director of Digital strategy position that I didn’t apply for. The person who was originally hired was no longer at the University. Donna, empowered by Dinosaur, wanted a “big win, and quickly!” They wanted the site launched on March 4, as in march forth into the future!” It was already mid-February, and there was no time to do the things I had done at Hopkins: usability studies, surveys, deep analysis of our analytics, signaling to divisions about the changes, etc. I thought it was odd that Dinosaur spent hundreds of thousands of dollars (not to mention months and months) on market research for logos and slogans, but didn’t seem to think the homepage required the same care. Donna, for her part, scoured the site for “duplicative links.”
I was pretty distraught, and actually called out sick the next day. When I returned, my boss said “Why don’t we just buy a template?” and he showed me a generic university bootstrap site that he found that morning. I bought it for $17 and finished the initial site in about 13 minutes.
I carried some shame about not doing the hard design work I thought the job needed, and I also learned a huge lesson. The design patterns already existed, and we saved months of work. It was actually a really good solution for an impossible scenario. I also learned that I am not the big wheel web hero I considered myself to be. I was never reimbursed for the cost of the template, and yet it was probably the best $17 I ever spent. Lesson learned!
A really cool feature of the new site was a “headless” WordPress solution I created, which aggregated news and magazine articles onto the static homepage.
In 2019, a webmaster position opened at the library, and I excitedly applied. I participated in a pretty rigorous interview process, and got the job!
I was warned by a colleague that my biggest challenge would be getting consensus from library staff, and that everything takes fooooooorrrrrrrreeeeeeevvvveeeeeer. That turned out to be right, but for different reasons that I originally presumed.
And then the pandemic happened. I was still learning my role at this point, and things slowed down quite a bit. I set up a curb-side pickup/drop off + social distance seat reservation system. My boss and another associate director quit. I participated in several search committees to replace my boss, and they failed. I eventually assumed the role as assistant director of technology. I began managing a team that replaced all the computers in the building, opened a very successful maker space, reworked the sound system in our gallery presentation space, and revamped our digital signage/social media presences. I continued doing my previous job as webmaster, too. So, back to that.
The first site I migrated into WordPress was the library’s gallery site. They wanted to continue having exhibitions online, and I was fortunate that the team in Special Collections are extremely smart, motivated, and interested in technological solutions. Below is the original, static site:
And the new WordPress version, which they can update themselves:
Next, I migrated the Special Collections site into their own networked WordPress site. Their site has about a dozen children sites, each with their own cohort of admins and users.
I reworked the Inter Library Loan site.
And I came up with a new approach to the library homepage. This was the site when I arrived:
The old site was trying to be everything to everyone. The yellow bar in the middle has tabs for key areas. The tabs still require a click to view the items. It made sense to click out to those pages.
The OneSearch box is the key feature on most academic library sites, so I brought the focus to that. After several adjustments to the header (over years), I arrived at this design:
I then tightened it up further by bringing the buttons for the key pages into the hero image OneSearch box. I added a feed for the hours to the header and footer, and removed the “duplicative” links in the footer.
As I was forewarned, it took me a long time to arrive at this update, and I already have the WordPress version almost ready to post. And here are the main reasons why.
The division is full of the most unhappy colleagues I’ve ever worked alongside. Turnover remains high. Good people tend to leave. The work culture itself is toxic at every level, and HR’s efforts to remediate that have been unsuccessful. I think HR have been unsuccessful because they blame the staff for the culture, saying culture is generated at the bottom of the org chart. Yes, and also, no. Yes, there are some very challenging personalities peppered throughout the place. And, no, culture is also created by leadership, and leadership is lacking, starting at the top. I have a unique perspective having worked in three different divisions (both functional and academic) and after a decade, I still feel like an outsider (despite the institution’s self proclaimed mandate of ‘inclusive excellence’). I have found the institution to be indifferent to its staff. I have wondered if this is because it is still so young – I have not had these feelings at Johns Hopkins, Towson University, the University of Baltimore, MICA, or the Community College of Baltimore County.
I write this as a comment on the challenges of trying to create and manage change with people in a ridiculously negative environment. I’ve learned a great deal from this job. It’s not so much about design itself, but about navigating the politics around design decisions. Humility and detachment are valuable tools, both for myself as a leader, and also as a cog in a big, dumb wheel. Lesson learned.
Why have I stayed so long, you might wonder if you made it this far…? I tell myself it has been because of the golden handcuffs. I’ve been able to provide an education for my kids and myself, and that is worth a great deal. But, that particular benefit is coming to end. We shall see what’s next.
March forth, indeed. Everything is AOK.