I've been part of the design meet-up scene in the North of England for over a decade; from sharing knowledge and networking, I get a real buzz out of creating the space for people to connect and ideas to flourish. So, after several of my team sang the praises of something called Design Club, I was keen to learn more.

Design Club is a UK-based not-for-profit organisation, aimed at inspiring the next generation of designers through volunteer-run events for school-aged children to explore the design thinking process. Usually, a task is set or a problem is suggested and then, over the course of a few hours, children are guided through the stages of the design process from understanding the problem, empathising with users, ideating, sketching, all the way through to creating a basic prototype and conducting user testing.

There are Design Club events across the country, the one in Manchester takes place every second Sunday of the month as part of the Coder Dojo event at the National College for Digital Skills. Last Sunday, excited to help showcase design skills to potential future designers, I volunteered at my first event.

I felt called to write about, not just the event but watching the masters of creativity at work. Or should I say, 'at play'? 
In awe of the imaginations and creative fearlessness of children

We had a good number of children and their parents join us to explore the design process on Sunday, with our suggested focus this month being the task of designing a mobile app to help children manage their pocket money. One young girl embraced this idea, producing one of the longest and most complex prototypes seen at the event! Others came with their own ideas to try out; these ranged from a story-based gaming app using images and audio to help neurodiverse children play when they might not be able to read, to an app to encourage environmentally friendly practices (created by a 6-year-old!) and another to help children learn the rules and techniques for playing squash.

The level of understanding and acceptance of the design process from these kids was amazing to witness but what really stood out to me was their fearlessness towards creativity, the various ways they expressed their ideas and their ability to just get on with what they wanted to do - without worrying what anyone thought.
Sketching didn't feel natural to the adults in the room - why?

It was great to see parents having a go and getting involved, coming up with their own ideas for an app, but many expressed that getting what was in their heads onto paper was harder than they thought. Even fellow designers in the room voiced their own trepidation and hesitation about sharing their sketches with others.

There was a feeling of nervousness, perhaps even fear, from the adults that what they would produce on paper, wouldn't be good enough. Where the children were far more adept at expressing their ideas through drawing, with caution seemingly thrown to the wind as they reached for the next coloured pencil.

Admittedly, we were cheerleading both them and their ideas on, there wasn't time for self-doubt to creep in. But I suppose the question is, would it? Do children feel that as much as adults? Do we accumulate self-doubt like we do wrinkles? What other reasons stop us from drawing? It's given me a lot to ponder since Sunday.

It's not the first time I've given this some consideration, either. From running countless design workshops with non-design colleagues and hearing "I'm not creative - I can't draw!". You can even see similarities when whiteboarding with colleagues and someone always claiming to have "untidy handwriting" - that they seem ashamed for the world to see.
When did mark-making get knocked out of us?

For most of us, there will have been a period in our childhood where drawing came as natural to us as breathing. But there appears to be a point, possibly between childhood and adolescence, where drawing moved from a form of self-expression to a skill - something you either have or don't have; where there are rules to be followed like scale, perspective and shadow. Our creative work went from being revered as small children to increasing levels of critique based on the quality according to 'the rules'. More criticism, low grades (again, based on 'the rules’) and I suppose that this is a reason why the only drawing we tend to do as adults is a doodle in a notepad while on yet another Zoom meeting.

Of course, like with any skill (self-expression included), if you don't use it, you lose it. So, if we've internalised the criticism, consciously or not, we now believe the "I can't draw" to be our truth. Meaning that of course, we're nervous and reluctant to share, we're awaiting that critique and judgement we received when we shared creative self-expression, only to be told that it wasn't good enough. Or worse still, that judgement is already in our head, stopping us from even trying.
Societal pressures and Creativity

The acts of drawing and creative play are seen negatively as childish practices when performed as an adult, despite how in awe we are when we see the imaginations of children in action (as we were at the Design Club this weekend). 
"It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child" - Pablo Picasso
Where in adolescence our creativity is critiqued and chipped away at, with all of adulthood's responsibilities, our time and energy are prioritised for other things - unless we have a creative job or hobby. Can we inject more playfulness, and not take ourselves so seriously? Switch up that dodgy blue biro we are idly doodling with for a coloured pencil, perhaps? Can we let go of the critique and rules we've picked up along our journey through life and show the same love and pride to our own creative expression as we do that of our children, instead of apologising for it?

We also should consider that we might be experiencing the Spotlight Effect, worrying what others will think of us and our sketches (especially if we're a designer - who "should be able to draw") when it appears we're all too busy worrying about what others think of our rough, creative output then it's highly likely no-one's thinking too critically of yours.
Too many screens, not enough paper?

There's also such a rush to progress to the next step and in digital design terms, that's of course on the computer. I recall my design tutor at university encouraging us to spend more time away from the computer while we explore ideas. "No unique idea ever started on a computer!" he would say - perhaps this is also why I value sketching as part of my own design process. I also love the quote from Milton Glaser, graphic designer of I heart NY fame, amongst other things:
"Computers are to design as microwaves are to cooking" - Milton Glaser
(with the rise of chat GPT, perhaps this is a topic for another day!) But could this be a reason - do we just not have the resources to hand to practice? Screens in our homes/workplaces are plentiful, but that paper isn't?

Even if this is the case - we hear the same "don't judge me!" sentiment even when a rough idea is communicated digitally. It's a rite of passage as a designer that other colleagues will share rudimentary mock-ups done in PowerPoint or even Excel (yes, really) - "ignore my bad design!" they'll say. So, even if paper and pencil are dead (I'm sticking my neck out here and I don't think it should ever be - it's a failsafe and the most accessible way to express and communicate) how do we combat this nervousness of visually communicating when we don't think we're very good at it?

Can we de-couple expectations of sketches or digital scamps from the expectations we have for the final production piece? After all, they are steps along the path, it's part of the process but it's not the end result - so why does it matter if it's not 'perfect' or even 'good enough'? Can we loosen up a bit?
Summary - and more questions!

I'm looking forward to volunteering at the next Design Club (due to Easter, this will be in May) and I'm sure to be further inspired by the children's creativity and imagination! 

Reflecting on my thoughts on why we don't draw like we used to and, of course, posing more questions to prompt further discussion:
- There's an obvious impact of criticism when nurturing creativity, how might we be kinder to ourselves to allow ideas to flourish? 
- Can we be supportive cheerleaders for ourselves and each other when we share our vulnerability of not being good enough? 
- There's a playfulness to creativity that we lose unless we practice - how might we bring small elements of play into our day-to-day?
- And ultimately, if we align with the Zen Master, Shunryo Suzuki - "In the beginner's mind, there are many opportunities, in the experts, there are few" - what else can we learn from children when it comes to creativity?
Be interested in your thoughts. Join the conversation on LinkedIn or Twitter. Thanks for reading!
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