I do not know how to start this reflection. It feels so final. Not just because it is the last reflection in iDesign but because this is probably the last time I get to genuinely write about my experiences in this Maker Space. Not only are there no more Fimbel-based classes I can take, but I am also a senior. This makes iDesign and Fimbel Labs as a whole extremely special to me because they have offered the tools, resources, and atmosphere to create whatever I want while in the presence of other similarly passionate and eager makers. My final project is a living embodiment of this: not just an end-product, but a reflection of one of the most valuable journeys I have had the privilege of undertaking at MHC.
Themes: Resilience
I love monsters, I love the deep sea, I love Wild Kratts, and I love costume-making. What is the combination of all these loves? A dragonfish helmet! I have been planning this costume since the beginning of September, since I imagined that iDesign would, over time, give me the skills needed to make my passion project (literally) shine. And it did. My self-efficacy with circuits, programming, and the CPX grew with every project to the point where I felt like I could tackle something as complicated as making over 50 neopixels chase each other on four different strips.
As my confidence grew with the neopixels, so did my ability to apply a growth mindset to unforeseen complications and setbacks. Some examples of this included learning new machinery (i.e., the industrial sewing machines and soldering station) and ditching neodymium magnet hinges for acorn nuts (read more about this on the Development and Final Demo page). This was crucial for helping me adapt and refine my plans, which I often get way too attached to due to a combination of perfectionistic tendencies and loving my ideas a bit too much to be healthy. I say this because my refusal to simplify, change, and ditch unrealistic plans led me to cry and overwork myself several times. But each time I ran into a wall, I would come back with a new angle acquired through a blend of self-regulated learning (i.e., reflections and YouTube videos), feedback (both from Fimbel staff and my classmates), and actively listening to Kris, Mo, Luke, Rachel, and Audrey whenever I asked for help (which was A LOT).
This project was a rocky ride. At first, I was cruising and feeling awesome. But then midterms, a yard sale, and fall break smacked me upside the head. After break, I realized I needed to cram two weeks of work into three days. Otherwise, I believed I would have nothing to show for the final demo. So that's what I attempted to do. While I made a lot of progress, it was not enough to finish the helmet, and as the days went on, my ability to regulate and check in with my emotions dwindled. Then, the night before our final demo, I realized that after Mo, Kris, and Luke left at 5 pm, I was going to have no one to help me out with the circuitry. They tried to explain the concept of a MOSFET transistor before they left, but all of us knew that I was asking too much of myself; I was also too tired and too anxious to understand anything they were saying.
But before Kris left, he told me he believed I could do it. The only issue was the timing. He said "You're a great maker. I know you've got this." Those words stuck with me. They made me feel belongingness instead of confusion and frustration. That's when I knew I had to email Audrey and be honest about my fears. Looking back, I sort of wish I sent it after my crying session, but her response made me feel relieved. I got some food, checked in with Cherry, Taylor, Noah, and Roz, and we celebrated each other's successes. I decided then that I would end the night with some spray painting and a little exhibition about my learning journey. These small things– – the belongingness, kindness, self-care, painting, and storytelling–– turned my fear into appreciation. I did a lot, and while much of that was unnecessary, I am in awe of how far I have come.
The word "failure" sucks. "Success" is almost as bad. When used as a metric for growth, they prioritize an objective end result that dilutes the complexity, nuance, and subjectivity bundled into each of our creative journeys. But of all the misconstrued words out there, resilience is core among them.
Alright, time to get on a soapbox: I feel like the resilience I know is pedaled by capitalism. This is because much of what know about resilience comes from what I consume: books, movies, media, news, "success stories," PSAs, advertisements, and other products of Western culture. While some representations are better than others, resilience often looks like one of three things:
1) A gruff White man being a gruff White man,
2) The hero "gaining mastery,"
3) Or a montage that cuts out the "boring," "ugly," or "contradictory" parts that cannot be romanticized.
But during my final project, the times when I was most resilient were the boring, ugly, contradictory parts. This is not to say that everyone needs to have these experiences to be resilient, but that resilience should not be conflated with the success/failure metric. For me, resilience comes not from success or failure but from knowing when to try, try again, and when not to try. It can feel awesome or godawful, but most of the time I am not aware that I am practicing it at all (i.e., me when I cry, me when I am vulnerable, me when I step away, me when I ask for help, me when I get bored waiting for paint to dry, me when I do anything that feels "wrong", me when I give up). However, when I do become aware of my resilience, whether in the moment or in hindsight, I always learn something valuable.
Resilience is at the heart of self-efficacy, mindset, self-regulation, active listening, cognitive flexibility, belongingness, effective feedback, and emotional intelligence. Of all the metrics used to gauge growth, skill-building, and character, this one is pretty damn good. And I can say for a fact that my final project and Fimbel Labs as a whole has unmade and remade my idea of resilience several times over. I was never a gruff White man being gruff (I was just White), I never "gained mastery" over anything, and I never felt like I completed my projects with the slickness and efficiency of a hyper-edited montage. Nonetheless, I still grew. And I am going to keep growing too, both in the journey to finally finish my dragonfish costume and after college.
Thank you for everything, Audrey. You're the best! ❤️