Meaning in Following The Herd

A few summers ago, I was sent to an art and design pre-college program in Pittsburgh because my parents want me to know whether the field of graphic design was for me. I was the only 10th grader there, and I had no background in digital design or art. Well, if you count art classes in elementary school, then yes, I do have experience. But this experience is obviously not enough to do well; less – to do moderately well.

While the program did not hand out grades, I was roasted in every single review session. Weird lines. Horrible shadows. Looks like anime. “You’re not looking at the big picture.” Whoops. Everyone else was so good, I thought they were already in art school. I wasn’t bothered that much, though, because I knew that design was not for me and that I was starting to hate it. I decided not to pursue it for college.

When the new semester finally arrived, and I entered the junior year of high school, I decided to apply to a prestigious art magazine that had already won several awards. I told them about my experience at the program, and they accepted me. I was tasked with helping the art director make the magazine in InDesign. According to him, he had to do it himself because everyone had good ideas, but they could not execute it visually. Digging up the skills from the camp, I was able to help him communicate his ideas into a visual format. Surprisingly, no one else at the school could actually do design at that time, so a few weeks later, the art director told me I would run the magazine next year.

And so I did. In fact, I helped reform the aesthetics of almost every student publication in the school: the school newspaper, the science magazine, the political magazine and so on. People actually looked up to me because I could make things “look  a e s t h e t i c.” But this was not because I was really good at it, it was just because I was the only one who could do it decently well. I was starting to like design. 

Even now in college, I continue to do magazine design, and there are people who depend on my skills. I know that freshmen don’t really think about their future jobs, but me being me, I started to think about the future. What am I going to do? Design is cool, but I don’t think I’ll pursue it as a job. And so I analyzed my own personal history. Why do I like design?  After thinking through it, I came to a conclusion. I don’t like design because I feel like I am talented. I like it because I was needed. 

I don’t believe in the narrative that our passions are given to us by some supernatural order at birth and in order to reach maximum fulfillment, our mission is to find them. For me, I think my passions are something cultivated from circumstances and the environment. Taking this forward, I don’t think I want to use my “passion” as my profession. I want to know what people really need. What are they missing? What is lacking? By being able to fill the gap and feeling that I am needed, I will find my own meaning.

Of course, there is the danger that many people warn against: following the herd. People will use you, they say. You will not have individuality, they say. I don’t know what it is like out there in the real world. Here I am sitting in this tiny room of a large college bubble. But for now, I want to try filling in what other people need of me. 

The Japanese term “ikigai” or the "reason for living" has become popularized everywhere in the past few years. It is defined as an intersection between something you are good at, something people need, something you can get paid for and something you enjoy. While this model has a taste of individualism and of one’s personal growth, the original Japanese meaning is closer to the Confucian belief of improving yourself not really for yourself but for others. I don’t think it’s wrong to modify a concept to fit your image of a fulfilling life. But for me, the finding meaning in the herd is something attractive too.