Sisters and Friends
Chapter 22
Misfit?
"Your sister's right."
Annie stepped away from the display panel where Quinn's midterm project boards were mounted. "A little more on the case, and I'd say the light looks good."
Quinn gingerly nudged the track light to the left. "These old hot lights suck," she grumbled. "The senior gallery got the LED upgrades over the summer, and everything looks nicer with the higher color temperature. Hope they switch these over soon."
"The seniors need the impact since a lot of design firms scout out new talent in their last year." Annie reached over and added a bit of tackiwax to the back of a mounted rendering, bringing it back to level. "This isn't square," she noted.
"Only you noticed that," Quinn sighed. "I ran out of foamcore last night and couldn't redo it."
"Still looks better than most of the other displays," Annie smiled.
Quinn didn't respond. Better? My stuff is just different. I don't fit in here.
"May I see you in my office for a moment?"
Oh, crap. Dr. Maas is going to kick me out of the program. She felt a sudden turning in the pit of her stomach. I was wondering when this was going to come down.
"Ms. Morgendorffer," Dr. Maas said slowly as he settled into his chair, "I'd like to know how you think you're doing in this program."
Quinn swallowed hard, her throat suddenly tight. She dropped her gaze to the desk. He had an old fashioned paper pad there, and her name was written on the top of the page. She couldn't really read his writing, especially upside down, and she didn't want to. "To be honest, I don't really know. I don't think most of my classmates think much of my work, and my instructors seem to pretty much criticize me more than the other students. I'd have to say that I'm pretty uncomfortable here."
Ron Maas sat with his fingers tented, his elbows resting on his desk. His thumbs against his chin, he studied the young woman's expression. "You must realize that in this field, you will meet with rejection and criticism. It's part and parcel of any competitive, creative endeavor. I'll hazard a guess and say that you're not used to negative feedback."
Quinn felt sick.
"Do you notice how your work differs from most of the others in the program at your level?
She nodded silently, still not meeting his eyes. "To be honest, I'm wondering if I should drop this."
Dr. Maas said nothing for a long moment.
He sighed. "I suspected as much. Normally, I wouldn't be speaking to a student in this manner- I'd prefer to keep the heat up so as to make them sweat a bit more, but I'm afraid that you're a bit different."
He sat back in his seat. "You're an attractive woman, and one that is probably accustomed to receiving positive feedback regularly, and certainly not experiencing rejection often. I don't mean to be harsh here, but I'd say you're used to getting what you want."
"Yes. It's something that I've been trying to get over."
"Good."
Quinn looked into the program director's eyes. "Would you like me to withdraw from the program?"
"Do you want to?"
Quinn was silent for a long time. Finally, she let out a sigh. "No," she said firmly. She gazed into the clear, ice-blue eyes of the older man for a long moment.
Dr. Maas chuckled. "Would you like to know why you seem to be singled out for harsher treatment by your instructors?"
"Singled out?"
"Perhaps you feel that-"
"I don't think my instructors understand my approach."
"How so?"
"The collection in the hallway seems to be out of sync with the work that dominates this program. I feel out of step with my peers as well."
"Go on."
"Most of what I see here is destined for obsolescence. Much of it lacks integrity, honesty and depth. It's superficial, trendy, and in a word, shallow." I don't want to play that stupid game anymore.
"We encourage that based on its commercial value. However, as you move through the program, we tend to shift towards a more thoughtful approach. You simply happen to be out of sync with your classmates. Your instructors are pushing you harder because you happen to be one of our more promising young designers." He smiled at her confused reaction.
"That collection in the hall. Do you see it as historical?"
"No. I did at first, but as I look at it every day, I've come to believe that despite the obsolescence of the embedded technology, the execution is simply timeless."
"And thus your comment about the work of your peers being, as you say, out of sync with the collection tells me that you see what most miss." Dr. Ron Maas sat back in his chair, a half-smile on his face. "Our students design for a flashy and contemporary portfolio. It's what young design students naturally do. You, on the other hand, design for a human user first, your portfolio second. In so doing, you stand in good company." He reached over to his keyboard, and her work began to appear on the bare wall to the left. Moving to the image index, he selected a thumbnail. The simple file box for the Mosaic system filled the screen.
"You showed this in your admission interview. Very few candidates would have dared to include this as evidence of their talent in a meeting that would determine their entry into our program." A few more keystrokes opened another window that scrolled through a gallery of product images, some with design styles that she recognized.
"These are some of the student interview images of your entry term. Some were admitted, but most were not. All of these are quite good, some excellent. Almost all of these candidates come from a strong art and design background, most knowing for years just what it was that they wanted to do as their life's work.
"You, on the other hand, did not. You are something of a late bloomer, so to speak. This creative culture is somewhat new to you, I suspect. Yet, you were admitted to the program. We could see your potential. You, Ms. Morgendorffer, were the only candidate that was told of her admission that day." He stood, extending his hand. "I remain convinced that we made the correct decision."
Quinn quietly thanked the department chairman and made her exit with a heavy load lifted from her shoulders.
A few days later, Ron Maas noticed another student that bore a striking resemblance to Quinn. She was standing off to the side waiting for an espresso.
"Excuse me," he smiled, "would you by any chance know a Quinn Morgendorffer?"
"My sister," came the simple reply.
After a ten minute conversation with her older sister, Dr. Maas understood Quinn a little better. Daria was clearly blessed with an extraordinary intellect, and even more so than Quinn, recognized her own iconoclastic bent. He sensed how she had carefully helped to guide her younger sister.
Definitely, we made the right decision. I look forward to watching Quinn grow over the next few years.