So you're graduating...

Things I know now, that I'd tell me back then

I’ve reached the point in life where I’m acknowledging that there are things I may never get to. It’s not that I couldn’t do some of these things. But priorities shift and dreams evolve. And you let go of some things to hold onto others. So in that spirit, I recognize that it’s unlikely I will ever become a roller derby star or spend a month backpacking through New Zealand. Not saying never. But I’m okay admitting these are slim possibilities. Another thing I sincerely doubt will ever happen? Me giving a commencement speech. This is only right and just. I skipped my own graduation ceremony, which I now sincerely regret.

But if I were to talk with new graduates? It would be brief. It would be to the point. And it would include some of the below, specifically geared to illustration students:

• Spend time with the very young and the very old. They’re honest, possess unique wisdom and will deeply inform your work.

• Don’t let social media worm its way too deeply into your brain. Detox as needed. Take a Tech Shabbat.

• Draw everyday. Draw while you’re on hold with tech support. Draw while you’re waiting at the dentist. Draw when you’re bingeing that new series. Even if it’s two minutes a day, that’s almost an hour of drawing by the end of a month.

• Read constantly. If you have an interest in children’s books, also be sure to read outside of kidlit. Learn to recognize aspects of storytelling (the heroes journey, for example).

• Your frontal cortex is still developing. You will make bad choices. That’s what youth is for. Learn from your mistakes, then move on. To quote a certain modern troubadour, “Shake it off.”

• Take care of your body. Get your eyes checked. Make a point to move every day. Also instant ramen noodles and soda might do the trick now, but you will pay dearly tomorrow. Don’t make caffeine your personality.

• You don’t have to have it all figured out at 21. Or 25. Or 30. Or (fill in the blank). The past six years have been a doozy. We’re all figuring it out as we go.

• Step outside of yourself. Volunteer. Call your grandma. Donate to a cause. Write letters. Listen, really listen to people.

• Criticism stinks, but is crucial for growth. That said, you can’t make everyone happy. As the quip goes, even the pyramids have one star reviews.

• Identify what your strengths are. Work on your weaknesses. Trust your work, but be willing to evolve.

• It’s okay to be human. The night my grandfather passed away, I stayed at the nursing home until late, then got up the next morning and went right into work like nothing had happened, all in order to meet a deadline. I didn’t even think of requesting an extension from my art director. All I wanted to do was to fill up that empty space his passing had left. But when you don’t reckon with grief, it comes back to find you at an even more inopportune time. Keep disasters in perspective though. A death in the family is a valid reason for needing more time. Your goldfish’s untimely passing, not so much. That said, padding your schedule to help avoid deadline collisions is always a good thing.

• Cultivate friendships that challenge you, particularly with other artists. You want people in your life that can encourage, but also know when to make you squirm. I’m grateful for the handful of friends and family that I share my work with privately. Each one is supportive, but each one is brutally honest. Some even make me angry on occasion, until I admit that they’re right. These sorts of people are a rare gift — I wouldn’t trade any of them for the world.

• I wrote some other suggestions for new illustrators a couple years back.

Alright, graduates. Time to toss that mortarboard in the air and go eat some sheet cake. Congratulations!