Quick Thought - Spring 2025
I've been working in the design industry for 15+ years.
I didn’t grow up expecting to do work like this. My dad was a welder, my mom worked at Walmart.
I wasn’t surrounded by laptops or whiteboards or decks. I was raised in places where you work because you have to. You stay sharp, keep moving. No strategic planning sessions. No “career trajectory.” Just: solve the problem in front of you, get to the next thing.
So the fact that I now spend my time building experiences with people I respect, designing systems with real impact—that still feels a little wild. And maybe that’s why I’m so careful with how I work. Especially when it comes to AI.
Because AI doesn’t accelerate my process. It’s not a shortcut. It’s scaffolding.
I’m neurodivergent—autism, ADHD, and a fun cocktail of other stuff. Some days my brain is sharp and fast. Other days, it’s foggy. I can’t always trust timing, clarity, or energy. It’s not about skill — it’s about access. It’s about whether I can reach the part of myself that knows what to say, what to push on, what matters most. Some days I can, some days I can’t.
That’s where tools like ChatGPT, Claude, and Cursor earn their keep.
Before a 1:1, when the thread’s tangled and I don’t know how to start—I’ll talk to one of these tools. Externalize. Sort. When I’ve got a note to send and can’t calibrate the tone—I’ll rewrite it a few ways and test the edges. When feedback lands strange and I’m second-guessing my read—I’ll mirror it back through a prompt and see what sticks.
It doesn’t give me answers. It gives me friction. Reflection. Focus.
It’s like a thinking surface I can press against — when the walls of my mind are too smooth or too loud to catch hold of.
The mainstream narrative around AI is speed: generate the flow, draft the content, push it out. And sure, that can be helpful. I would say though, that the real work — the actual design work? That’s not fast. It’s layered. Messy - often unresolved.
That’s the part I care about. That’s where I want to stay - in the mess. In the work.
So I draw a hard line between tools that do the work for me — and tools that help me stay in it.
What I lean on is reflective AI. Stuff that holds up a mirror. That helps me ask better questions. Spot brittle thinking. Untangle language that’s close but not quite right.
It doesn’t replace the work. It deepens it.
Most teams are optimized for fluency. Quick replies. Real-time debate. Cognitive agility. And if that’s not how your brain works — even if your instincts are solid — it’s easy to fall behind. Or go quiet. Or opt out.
These tools let me pace myself without leaving the room. It helps me prep for the conversation instead of flailing in the moment. It lets me contribute with clarity instead of masking or buffering or burning energy just to stay afloat.
That’s not optimization. That’s inclusion.
That’s what lets me show up for my team. Make our feedback loops tighter. Bring focus to the parts that matter.
I’m not here to vanish behind a prompt (except when writing unit tests - I’m not above that). I don’t want the tools to decide. I want them to give me something solid to push against — so I can decide better.
I’m still here - 15 years on - because I care about this work. I love this work. I care about the clarity. The complexity. The impact.
AI tools help me stay connected—to my collaborators, to my thinking, to the real work of design. Not by speeding me up, but by letting me stay with it.