Why Do We Work?

I’m a good teacher. Admittedly not an orthodox one, more of a goofy footer.

In my class there are a lot of decoys and tests within tests. One particular head fake went like this: after the group dutifully put their assignments up on the wall, I would go into a long lecture on everything I knew about money (how to make it, how to keep it) or spend the entire class discussing Freud and the ego.

Nearing the end of the class, inevitably one student would pipe up, “But, Mr. Victore, we didn’t go over the homework.” Oops. I skipped the crit… On purpose.

“Yeah, we are not going over that. Here is your new assignment…”

Ooof. The tension in the room was real. Students were confused, let down, relieved. Some would be visibly pissed at having their work snubbed (welcome to the real world, kiddo).

To ease their confusion I began the actual meat of the lesson, “You need to ask yourself, why do you work? Did you do the assignment because you had to, or to make ‘Mr. Victore’ happy (impossible), or for a grade…?”

So, why do YOU work?

It is a healthy process to regularly ask ourselves why we do what we do.

Do we work just to make money— and are therefore a slave? Have we become accustomed, trained to make a boss or client happy? Do we seek the approval of our peers through self-congratulating design awards?

As commercial designers we sometimes get caught up in the onanist details of color, type and form, forgetting that we work for a public, real human beings who are hungry for an honest, truthful voice. People who deserve our attention, our love and our best work.

I ask this question often of myself, the answer is always about the audience.

Whether it’s a series of book covers or a worldwide marketing campaign, my work succeeds best when I can visualize the surprise or delight (or even abhorrence, if necessary) of the intended audience.

If I want to be effective ‘communicator,’ I need to see past the client’s needs and understand the even bigger picture, that there’s an audience waiting who want to laugh and smile and feel.

I want all my work to feel like small acts of devotion for an audience of one.

I want my work to be love notes.

When we can come from a place of no longer seeking to make an amorphous ‘them’ happy, but making work with a purpose, from the heart, that is where the magic waits.

Happy creating, my friends.