I Failed Portfolio Review— and I’m Not Done With Product Design
Yesterday afternoon I received the email I had been anxiously awaiting for weeks. Once I saw that notification pop up on my watch, I scrambled for my phone, nearly knocking over a can of mango bubbly water in the process.
What I saw on my screen left me crying on the floor for the next half hour. The message was as follows:
Dear Nate,
On behalf of the portfolio review committee, I regret to inform you that the work presented in your portfolio did not meet the threshold for passing and acceptance into the Product Design program.
This decision is made by a group of professionals and academics evaluating your work, and not by one individual person. Each reviewer independently evaluated each student on seven criteria. These seven criteria are the same as those noted in the online information sheet (Drawing, Rendering, Physical Prototyping, Overall Design Process, Creativity, Visual Portfolio, and Presentation).
If you are eligible and willing to participate in the review next year, the areas that did not receive a passing score and need improvement are as follows:
Drawing
Rendering
Physical Prototyping
Overall Design
Process Creativity
Visual Portfolio
Please contact your academic advisor to discuss Fall registration and long-term academic planning. You may schedule an appointment online with your advisor or by calling xxx-xxx-xxxx.
Put simply: I failed so badly it needs a post-mortem. I produced the best damn work of my entire lifetime, passionately polished it to perfection, and served it up with a smile and a twirl to the old guard. This work used skills I spent hundreds of hours honing. It was the perfect success story in the making. I ran my work by upperclassmen, colleagues, and professors alike, ensuring it was tightly-knit. Many were impressed. Many, myself included, were certain I’d get in easily. I now must assume that this confidence blinded me. Not only did I fail the review, I fell flat on six of seven possible criteria. My only skill deemed passable was presentation, which on its own is not enough to keep me in the Product Design major.
In the eyes of the committee, I had extraordinarily presented subpar work.
My pride in the work I presented remains unwavering. It’s fucking fantastic, and I believe that to my core. I have to live with the fact that what I had done simply was not what the program wanted from me. Fear not: My work in design is far from over. In fact, I believe I can make it out of this with a similar career trajectory. I’ll just be taking the scenic route. Majors are fake anyways, or so I’m told.
I don’t plan on attempting portfolio review again next year. My sketching could improve, sure, but I could never put as much love and care into another portfolio as I did this one. It seems much smarter for me to apply my last year’s credits towards a Product Design minor. I’m taking time to consider what my new major will be. Maybe writing, or fine arts photography. I have options, hopefully ones I can get done in the next three years. I couldn’t bear a sixth year in college.
Strangely, after the initial shock wore off, I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders, and an underlying thought finally surfaced: The workload described by upperclassmen in the Product Design program sounded genuinely hellish. A part of me always dreaded the idea of constantly-elevating expectations, having designs squeezed out of my head as if by force. Or maybe that’s what I’m saying to cope. The distinction isn’t an important one.
Things are actually going really well for me in other areas of life. I got a job in sales and interior design at West Elm, and I’m genuinely enjoying it. I have great friends, some of whom I met in Product Design and don’t plan on abandoning. The four months of non-depressing Minnesotan weather have arrived. I failed, but I failed spectacularly. The world is beautiful and I am too. I have an Eames chair.
Designing forever,
Nate