When I was a kid, to say I moved around a lot is an understatement. Before the age of ten, I had lived on three continents, and had already attended five schools. With a constantly changing framework, I learned pretty quickly that customs, values, and even accents carried a lot of social capital within a group, and also, that they did not transfer easily across groups. As young as I was, I realized that a good way to connect with a new group of people was through respectful observation, withholding judgment when confronted something that was unknown—and literally foreign—to me, and the power of seeking to find meaning through conversation (what I would learn in ethnography class is called “dialogic listening”). As ad-hoc as they were, these became my tactics for not only finding a shared footing with my classmates, but for making my way through the world.
My older sister, Elise, and me in São Paulo, Brazil (1981)
I didn’t realize how profound this was, or how well these lessons would serve me, until 1994 when I found myself sitting in my first undergraduate ethnography class. During one class, the professor was discussing some of the vocational hazards ethnographers and their families usually have to deal with. Because of the transient nature of an ethnographer’s lifestyle, he explained that it is normal for the family of the ethnographer to actually have a tougher time acclimating in a new culture, even though the ethnographer may be the one more intensely immersed in it. The reason being that the ethnographer has his/her job, ethnographic skills and methods, project goals, to orient him or herself (essentially creating a set of “knowns” in a world of “unknowns”)…but the ethnographer’s family members rarely have a similar foundation through which to navigate the new world. This deeply resonated with me because I remembered being a kid, and seeking to make sense of a strange world around me with not much more than any empathic skills I could muster up.
Another move on the horizon
Fast forward to today. Or, actually, a week ago today…when, my husband accepted a promotion that will take us half-way across the country. Atlanta, Georgia…here we come! What’s interesting to me, though; and what further ties his acceptance of this job to my ethnography class, is that formally accepting the promotion kicked off an interesting chain-of-events and communications from his company to our family. As the relocation materials filter in, I cannot help but be reminded of the lessons from my first ethnography class.
For instance, this week we have already received:
An informational packet in the mail about the Employee Assistance Program that is available. What was striking was that the message was not geared to my husband—their employee—but rather to me and my daughter, addressing us even by name. On the cover of the pamphlet, it showed a family looking a little stressed, surrounded by boxes.
Then, a day or two later, we received more information focused specifically on the benefits of moving. By benefits, I don’t mean emotional benefits…literally, I mean the employee benefits in terms of dollars and cents. Its main message is that this move will not create a financial burden on the family; rather that there is potential financial gain for us.
Then of course, came the informational packets about the company-sponsored social events for families new to the Atlanta area. From a Communication Design perspective, its message reassures that there is a community ready and waiting for us to arrive; and directs us to information about groups whose members, like us, are also adjusting to the area.
Once the new kid, always the new kid
As a designer, I’ve learned to be very comfortable—almost happy— in the discovery phase of a project, where ambiguity and many open-loops reign. Luckily, I can translate that perspective into my personal life fairly easily. Many of the stresses usually associated with moving are suddenly eradicated because of my openness to new things.
Nonetheless, I very much appreciate that my husband’s company is aware of how hard a relocation may be on everyone in a family; not just their employee. Truth be told, my husband is equally enamored with the discovery process required when moving to a new place, and the world of opportunity change seems to bring about. After all, Georgia will be the fifth state we’ve lived in over the course of the past seven years! We sometimes joke that we are the demographic that is the topic of the book Next Stop, Reloville: Life Inside America’s New Rootless Professional Class.
The coming days and weeks will be interesting…but we are excited about the move. This time however, I am going to remind myself to just try to soak all that Atlanta has to offer not as an ethnographer, but as a person. I love ethnography, but I’d rather get paid for it! This time, it’s all about taking the time to make some roots. I think it’s time we stay in a place for a while.
As a divergent thinker, I often rely on unfamiliar models to help me identify parallels and patterns that I may not see in models with which I am deeply familiar. One of the ways I do this is by reading anything I can get my hands on, and usually I learn something new and find new connections as long as the publication shows rigor in its subject matter and demonstrates a healthy intellectual curiosity.
So, as I was recently flipping through a copy of Science News, a book called Don’t Be Such A Scientist by Randy Olson caught my eye. The premise of Randy’s book argues that until scientists can temper their need for accuracy with the need for audience engagement, they will miss the opportunity to connect with the broader audiences that they need in order to affect positive, widespread change based on their research. Because I have recently been doing a lot of thinking about ways in which designers can better talk to business people without having to sell out water down our processes, methods, and skills (so as to be a better fit with all of the control systems inherent in business processes), I was curious to see if there were strategies I could glean from Randy’s book that would help us cross the chasm we deal with all the time between what business does and what design does.
I took this book with me on a ten day trip to Key West. The irony of this decision did not hit me until the end of chapter one...
As Randy walks his readers through the pitfalls of being a science communicator, his messages include “Don’t be so cerebral,” “Don’t be so literal-minded,” and “Don’t be such a poor storyteller.” To counteract these tendencies, here is a short summary of his recommendations:
Appeal to the four organs of mass communication. Randy writes: “When it comes to connecting with the entire audience, you have four bodily organs that are important: your head, your heart, your gut, and your sex organs. The object is to move the process down out of your head, into your heart with sincerity, into your gut with humor, and, ideally, if you’re sexy enough, into your lower organs with sex appeal.” To reach the broadest audience possible with your message, take advantage of each of these organ centers in every way you can. A message that contains these elements will appeal to everyone, from the brainiacs to those with little more than good ol’ fashioned sexual urges.
Familiarize yourself with the tradition of Improv. Spontaneity is preferable to highly scripted interactions, if for no other reason than it brings excitement to the situation and reaches down into the lower organs (which means you and your message will connect with more people). Two goals of Improv are 1) to always make the other person look good (don’t negate, embarass, put down) and 2) to always build off of what the other characters are saying by starting off your comments with “Yes, and….” This creates a positive momentum to your message, and instead of alienating people, you are further engaging them.
Use the Arouse and Fulfill strategy. When trying to communicate effectively, you must first hook your audience and get them interested in what you have to say (arouse) and then deliver on the promise of your message (fulfill). Randy’s recommendation for applying the “Arouse and Fulfill” strategy? Storytelling! Luckily, this is a topic we UXers are in no short-supply of these days.
I have to admit, when I started reading this book, I hoped that I could learn a thing or two about not being such a designer. But what I actually learned was…
…I am such a scientist. Maybe not a scientist in the purest sense (as in, I don’t have a Ph.D. in marine biology like Randy), but according to Randy’s description let’s just go with saying I definitely meet his criteria for being “science-minded.” I guess a decade of advocating the importance of user-centered research and synthesizing, coding, and presenting research findings will do that to you! His message hit so close to home that I literally found myself slapping my forehead more than once. As tough as it was to read, and see myself reflected in his words, it was exactly the message that I needed.
I walked away from the book with a new-found commitment to being more bilingual: to continue to talk both the art of user-advocacy as well as the science of business, but now start to do it being mindful of all four organs of mass communication. I also clearly need a crash-course in Improv. This book reminded me of the importance of making other people look good; not just the design and development team. Bringing the people who are holding the purse-strings for my projects along for the ride, and getting them positive attention based on the success of the UX of our projects, is clearly one of the best strategies we can employ to get UX into the bones of organizations.
As irony would have it, I read this book while on vacation in Key West with 20 of my friends. Yes, I caught some flack for it; but deservedly so! To me, the book was nerdy fun; to everyone else, it was just nerdy. I’ll find the right balance of substance and style one of these days!
You know those screensavers that come loaded on our Macs (or Bing, and now, Google.com)…the ones with all of the nature scenes? Well, up until recently, I had always assumed that the rights to use those stock images were relatively inexpensive and easy to come by, and that was why they were provided. Although there may be some truth to this practical explanation, I’ve developed an alternate theory that today’s computer scientists—along with centuries of artists, writers and philosophers—have harnessed the restorative power of natural environments and the Biophilia Effect.
Over the course of the past few decades, empirical research findings have indicated that exposure to nature promotes emotional, cognitive, and physical well-being,1 described as the Biophilia Effect. At first it was thought that the benefits of the Biophilia Effect could only be recognized with living plants in one’s environment, but actually just the mere imagery—whether window views, realistic posters, or once again I’ll suggest our screen savers—seem to do the trick.2
As designers, we can use the Biophilia effect to our advantage in environments where concentration and creativity take place (e.g. schools and universities), or healing and recuperating, like hospitals:
Boston Methodist Hospital, in Michigan (left) and Alberta Hospital (right).
Another interesting characteristic of the images above is the use of ceiling height. In 2007, a study called The Influence of Ceiling Height: The Effect of Priming on the Type of Processing That People Use (PDF) was published that showed a correlation between the height of a ceiling and cognition: high ceilings tend to promote abstract thinking and creativity, and low ceilings promote concrete and detail-oriented thinking.3 I think this is important information for organizations to consider when building office space for their creative staff. Although I can understand and appreciate the preference of the people in corner offices to leverage beautiful window views and high ceilings for themselves, but it also pays to consider the benefits to the teams doing the research, development, and creative thinking necessary to build superior products.
(“The Biophilia Effect” and “The Cathedral Effect” are the 17th and 18th of 125 universal principles of design that I will cover this year.)
One of the ultimate manifestations of the Biophilia Effect, not to mention one of architectural triumphs of the 20th century, is Frank Lloyd Wright’s Falling Water. (Please take a few moments to watch this beautifully animated 3D video—it is worth it.)
A full day of sketching, drawing, and thinking visually…what could be better?
I was thrilled to find out about Drawcamp, a drawing unconference that will be held in Milwaukee on Saturday, June 12. I registered immediately, and ordered a new Moleskin just for the occasion!
Drawcamp, a drawing unconference, will be held in Milwaukee Saturday June 12
I have always been artistic, but somewhere along the way, I have become overly reliant on illustration software and my Wacom tablet. Sketching wireframes on pen and paper seems to be the only type of sketching that comes comes easily; and when I am at the whiteboard, I find that I am making text-based lists more and more, and thinking with pictures less and less. And there is nothing that makes me more nervous than losing a skill that I once used fluently.
So off to Drawcamp I go. Let the mark-making begin! I should mention that Milwaukee is also hosting Writecamp, another unconference, on Saturday June 5. Alas, I will not be able to attend it due to conflicts in my travel schedule, but I wanted to pass on the information in case any of my writer friends are interested. There are some really great sessions scheduled!
When trying to determine the most direct path to a desired destination—whether it be in a web search, in a new building, or in a park— we apply the same wayfinding framework, which simultaneously seeks out clues about where we are, and where we need to go. The same four stages of wayfinding apply regardless [...]
The Waist-to-Hip ratio is an easy thing to calculate: it is the circumference of the narrowest part of the waist divided by the circumference of the fullest part of the hip. As other physical attributes (like variances in body weight, and breast size) have passed in and out of favor over the past 100 years, [...]
I recently came across a Smashing Magazine article highlighting the Design Hierarchy of Needs. It is a model, adapted from Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, which suggests that in order for a design to be successful, it first must meet people’s basic needs before it can satisfy higher level needs.1
In truth, I do not agree with [...]
This past weekend, I had a run-in with a stranger who for some reason immediately creeped me out. She looked emaciated and pale, she had a weird shark-eyes quality to her and her basic motor skills were labored and erratic. (Yes…I know…I’ve got to stop the late night Zombieland viewings.) Everyone in the group that [...]
One of the most interesting things about looking for each of the Universal Principles of Design at work in the world around us is that I get to talk to my 5 year old about them, and see how far these “universal” ideas truly extend. The seminal work on Baby Face bias proves that it [...]
How do you influence an audience to visit your site as a habitual part of their everyday experience? Then, once they are there, how do you motivate them to buy whatever it is that you are selling? Well, if you take a cue from woot.com, you could design your business model around the principles of [...]
I spend my days thinking about wicked design problems and obsessing (in a good way) about user experiences. As I was a writer before a designer, I've built this blog to express my ideas and opinions. If you'd like to see some of the design work I've done in the past, check out my Portfolio of Work at www.kbellamartin.com.
