An Open Letter to the White Graphic Design Community

Dear White Graphic Design Community,

First off, I am not writing this letter on my behalf. I am writing this letter on behalf of African American graphic designers in the field who are coming behind me.

I am an award-winning graphic designer and brand consultant and have been practicing in the field for 30 years. I am comfortable in my skin and work continues to find me. So, I am going to tell you the truth.

I received a stellar education in Swiss influenced Graphic Design aesthetics from an art school in Philadelphia. The rigorous program enhanced my visual eye to see beyond the ordinary, understand visual culture and solve communication problems. This started me on the journey to understanding the intersection between the social sciences, psychology, semiotics and visual communication. The conventional wisdom at this art school was that students received the equivalent of a Bachelors and a Masters Degree in four years. I am grateful to have had access to a design process and professors who were respected design practitioners and artists, American and foreign born.

However, my journey through school was not an easy one. Some of this difficulty arose from the impoverished circumstances that were a part of my upbringing. I grew up poor in North Philadelphia, an African American community. Although I was always considered a bright conscientious student, I experienced all of the disadvantages of being part of a community in distress such as substandard public education, inferior healthcare, overt and covert discrimination and community divestment. As a young artist, my visual perceptive abilities were always very strong honed by the visual vibrancy of African American urban culture and the commercial art program at a local vocational technical school. Although I graduated from high school near the top of my class, I quickly realized how unprepared I was when I enrolled in college. This was a difficult reality to accept so I kept my head down in freshman year and focused on mastering various artistic mediums. It was during this time that I heard rumors that the graphic design department was known for being brutal taskmasters.

Once I became a sophomore in this department, I found this to be true. The processes were rigorous, austere, repetitive and difficult. Many of us, Black and White, struggled to keep up and to understand what we were learning. (Some left the department after a year while others graduated and hated graphic design so much, they went into another profession.) As I absorbed the department’s ethos, I intuitively understood that questions involving racism and graphic design were not welcome. Yet European art, design and culture were routinely celebrated and discussed. I eventually found out that most of my professors attended a school in Switzerland that was viewed as one of gatekeepers of Swiss influenced design. So, it all started to make sense. Since there were only four African American students in my class, we supported each other and built relationships with other Black students in different visual and performing arts departments . The ACT 101 office on the mezzanine floor was full of minority professionals that were a big help during this time. As I began to understand what I was learning, like many others, I dreamed of attending this school in Switzerland. But because of the lack of support and this feeling of being muzzled, I assumed I would not fit in. This was a dark time for me as I was carrying a full credit load and working 25-30 hours a week. The feeling of isolation almost led me to turn my back completely on graphic design and transfer to another school to study sociology. 

In spite of this and with the help of mentors at my church, I endured. My perception of my professors ranged from amused to smug to disinterested. I cannot fully claim to be a great judge of character in my late teens. I am sure it did not help that I was an introvert and felt intimidated by them so I own some of the weirdness. However, as I talked with other Black students in the department (including upperclassmen), consistent patterns started to emerge about specific faculty and the culture of the department. Also, it should be fair to assume that those responsible for teaching should have deeper emotional intelligence than their students.

During our senior year, some of the African American graphic design students pushed the envelope and explored themes directly related to race. My senior thesis was titled Racism and Discrimination in the U.S. I researched the topic and designed a small book with images discussing the subject. I remember during my thesis meeting with my professors, I could hear a pin drop. I could not tell if they asked few questions because they did not like my project or because the topic was difficult for them. To this day, I assume it was both issues. Although I was the first in my extended family to graduate from college, my senior thesis experience fueled my latent anger towards the department and put a damper on my achievements. I vowed to never set foot inside the school again.

After graduation in 1990, I enjoyed working for an international nonprofit in rural Pennsylvania for five years. I was able to repair my relationship with one of my professors who helped me land this job. He had a relationship with this organization and designed their visual identity years before. We also hired him as a consultant to annually critique our work. This allowed me to see another side of him and share some of my feelings about being a student at the school.

Connecting with other graphic designers and growing my network became an important focus. I became a member of the AIGA and traveled to Philadelphia and New York frequently to network as a professional and participate in workshops. Every time I attended an event, I was routinely asked “You are a member?” First, I simply thought this was because of my youthful good looks. But the question was repeated even after I showed my AIGA membership card. After all, I guess I had nothing better to do than to slip into an AIGA event. Smh.

At these events, I was a chocolate chip in a sea of milk. I rubbed shoulders with white graphic design professors, design luminaries and other creative professionals only to discover they had very little interest in connecting with me. I thought it was because of my work but none of them had seen any of it. In reality, I could smell the culture of white elitism and smugness that offended my working class roots. Eventually, I concluded that it had something to do with race. My white female colleague, whom I worked with, attended as well and had the opposite experience. I pointed this out to her and even she started to see it. Feeling hurt and angry, I canceled my membership. Over the years, I have heard of Black graphic designers who have a good relationship with their local AIGA chapter. Even still, my experience is common among Black graphic designers. I sniffed around AIGA Philly five years ago but saw not much has changed. I haven’t been a member since 1995.

As I moved in design circles over the last three decades, these observations became clear:

1. The white graphic design community has always tacitly embraced the gay community.
2. The white graphic design community has always tacitly embraced immigrants (mostly Asian and European).
3. The white graphic design community eventually embraced White women.

Even with all of this diversity and inclusion above, the same energy is rarely given to include Black designers except around Black History Month. The usual argument was always, where are the Black designers? Back in 1987, Cheryl D. Miller wrote an article about it in Print Magazine. The Organization of Black Designers (OBD) spoke into the void as well in the 1990s. Revision Path founded by Maurice Cherry has interviewed Black creative professionals since 2013. He also wrote an article on behalf of AIGA’s Diversity and Inclusion Initiative revisiting the ‘MIA Black Designers’ issue. African American Graphic Designers Facebook Group started by Terrence Moline has close to 3,000 members, a website and is growing exponentially. Black designers have talked about this topic ad infinitum. 

Yet, according to the 2019 AIGA Design Census, only 318 Black designers (3%) completed their survey. It was open to the public for five weeks and shared directly with AIGA’s members, attendees of the AIGA Design Conference, and the wider U.S. design community. The media channels used were social media and paid advertising. 

With all of the talent connected to the AIGA and its conferences, you mean to tell me that none of them could find out that Black people are heavy social media users? Well, somehow the Russians found out two years ago and targeted African Americans with online fake news!! Maybe the AIGA should contact Putin and ask him for help. This should remind us that AIGA’s sampling and their ad targeting was not broad enough. Don’t ask where the Martians are if you aren’t willing to go to Mars.

This is obviously not about numbers.

If White graphic designers took some time to look outside of their own narrow bubbles, they would see us. How can you live in cities that have large African American populations and ask, where are the Black designers? What is really being asked is, why aren’t there more Black designers in the space that White designers feel most comfortable? White people, especially White men, are accustomed to defining the mainstream spaces that attract the media and funding. Ask any White graphic design professor when was the last time they were at an event where they had no influence and they were a minority amongst African Americans? The ivory tower is real!

This critique also extends to the mining of African American culture. Many White designers seem to be more comfortable with Black culture than with Black people. This also seems to be true in this country, in general. As a result, they have no problem locating near Black communities that are typically gentrifying or utilizing Black expressions and idioms for their projects. This is especially true in the marketing world where Black culture, in some areas, is the primary influence on White suburban youth and young adults. Yet, many of these projects will still have no Black creative professionals attached to them.

As the recent BLM protests have put more pressure on civil authorities, White owned companies and White elites to acknowledge Black humanity, this is the time for White graphic designers in influential positions to ask some hard questions. Black students enrolling in college with a dearth of experience is a stereotype that needs to die. We aren’t perfect but we bring a different creative POV that we often mute because our professors and colleagues feel threatened by our presence. For example, none of my professors knew I was a budding graffiti artist with a basic postmodern understanding of typography. After much study, I have no doubt in my mind that a Swiss approach to typography and graffiti share some similarities. I just wish they would have valued what I already brought to the table.

I also don’t expect them to do all of the heavy lifting. I have been going into public schools mentoring Black youth since I was a college student about graphic design, entrepreneurship and marketing. Why? Because they do not see professionals like me and neither did I when I was in high school. Also, here is a bombshell: Many of the youth know that White owned companies covet their culture but they are unaware of how to leverage this fascination on their community’s behalf. Unfortunately, I don’t doubt that many companies want them to maintain this ignorance. That’s why many companies will hashtag ‘Black Lives Matter’ online but won’t make any substantive systemic changes in their workplace. This is performative wokeness at its worst and why I know that racism is in progressive and conservative circles. 

Although I have been back at my almer mater in the last few years by invitation, I don’t get the impression that the number of Black students (or Black faculty) in the graphic design department has grown. I know this is not completely the school’s fault. There are larger issues at play. But this excuse is harder to swallow in a city that is almost 50% African American.

As a late bloomer, I have addressed my feelings of low self esteem compounded by my school and professional experiences. I eventually found my footing with the help of mentors. They taught me to stop looking for the approval of the White graphic design community. I broadened my understanding of visual communication following in the footsteps of one of my professors (the one I reconciled with) who explored the connection between graphic design, anthropology, sociology and psychology. As a former professor of the Social Sciences and Marketing, I have always affirmed what my students already brought to the table and I walked with them to help them explore it further.

In conclusion, I don’t see every obstacle in my life as racism or bias. I also have learned to not bow to the design hero idols in the industry. I have met some really exceptional designers that have sh*tty characters. I also have been Black a long time and I know systemic discrimination and ‘other-ing’ when I see it. Yet, I don’t speak for all Black designers. I see a shift happening even in how some White graphic designers are thinking about race. I just want younger Black graphic designers to be given the opportunity to thrive. Stop making excuses about the numbers! Black excellence is a real thing, graphic design/marketing agencies should stop ignoring it because of their own biases and give their clients the diversity they deserve. 

All the Best,

Ron Tinsley