Andrew Drinkwater
Following my post on careers not being linear, this week I was hoping to write about the value of mentorship. Sometimes life throws you a curve ball that hits harder than you expected.
My undergraduate degree was focused on software engineering. It wasn’t exactly my passion. But, as part of TechBC’s absorption into SFU, our programs were being phased out. At the time, it felt like we had no option but to keep going… or effectively start again (I later learned as an academic advisor how wrong that impression was).
I had many professors who made a difference in my life. Today I’ll talk about one who made a difference to me, and thousands of others.
Russell Taylor was the first person who helped me understand that software engineering wasn’t only about code. He was my prof for our Capstone project, where it became obvious our first idea wasn’t really matching with the skills of the group. Russell helped me see that being knowledgeable about code, but complementing it with design, and most importantly the human connection is what would shift my career from being a coder with minimal people interaction to focusing more on how people interact with technology, and how leveraging software could help them enjoy using that technology.
We were an interesting match. I would never have expected to go on a design field school as part of my IT degree. Given my work experience at the university, I thought Russell might have picked me as a mature influence, but looking back I think he wanted to help me find a niche and come out of my shell.
I had the privilege to study in Italia for 6 weeks of my undergrad. I learned about the great designers and architects, form and function, food, and most importantly group dynamics. I vividly remember presenting our design patterns research in Tuscany, and being terrified of not following the assignment instructions, only for Russell’s critique to both bring up valid criticism of what we found, but also an acknowledgment that the approach we took was actually better and he’d revise the assignment in the future based on that learning.
Through the years, I had a unique perspective on Russell: as his student for a capstone course and ItaliaDesign, and later as a colleague when I began my career as an advisor/recruiter at SFU’s School of Interactive Arts and Technology. I saw Russell champion students and ensure that the decisions we made were done with them in mind. I saw him fight to preserve parts of the design curriculum that made such a mark on student lives. And I saw reams of students take his class, be challenged to do their absolute best (and beyond), and come out of the class with a thirst for knowledge and improvement, the likes of which I rarely saw from other courses. He inspired a generation of students to roll up their sleeves and focus on design process. In his own process, he trained a generation of leaders, who have made an incredible mark on the world for such a young school.
During this time, I also had the unique pleasure of joining his new field school, DutchDesign as part of my staff exchange in Europe. At the time, SIAT was newly delivering its first year curriculum following the dissolution of the TechOne program. I went to Europe to study leading design schools like Salzburg University of Applied Sciences, Malmo University, and the University of Southern Denmark (among others) and their curricular structures. Our itineraries intersected in Copenhagen, and I was able to join the DutchDesign field school as an alumni and take in a few more interviews with leading designers.
What struck me about Russell’s field schools is that they were intended to be rigorous. He was fond of saying if you just want a vacation go to club med or backpack. It was utterly unacceptable to interview one of the world’s leading designers without having done your homework. It would embarrass you, your school, and him if you asked a question that you could have answered by reviewing a website. We needed to dig deeper. We needed to make an impression. We were representing our school, ourselves, Russell, and indeed Canadian higher education.
This model produced high calibre research papers (in my era) and later feature length movies about design that are world class.
During my MBA, while on field study in Silicon Valley, I recommended Russell’s model for the MBA field study as well. They took the recommendations sincerely and thought it was a great model.
As a colleague, I worked with Russell and many others to try to design curriculum that would challenge students and build their intrigue in the discipline, while working hard to ensure that the curricula we designed was learner focused.
I’ll close by saying that sometimes the people you don’t expect see something in you and help you find it yourself.
In the process, they become mentors.
They nudge, encourage, and critique you to help you get better.
They help you become that better person.
They leave a legacy.
Rest in peace, prof Rusty. You’ll be forever in our hearts.