Why I chose design: Stories by students and recent graduates
New designers talk about what drew them to design and how their perspective has changed along the way.

In the last 30 years, design has become an increasingly popular field of study—an academic discipline even though it was once the domain of the self-taught. It may be yesterday’s news, but in 2018, design was the most popular subject choice among students in the UK, and that trend has barely shifted since.
We spoke to several design students and recent graduates about what drew them to design and how their understanding of it has evolved with time and experience. This article doesn’t aim for statistical significance, but we do hope it resonates—that hearing from peers might help someone work through doubts or see design from a different angle.
Here are the people who shared their stories and perspectives:

Wendy Li is an MFA candidate in Graphic Design at the Yale School of Art. She previously earned a BA in Graphic Communication Design from Central Saint Martins in London.

Leonie Ebbing is a communication designer based in Cologne, Germany. She earned her BA from FH Aachen in 2019 and completed her Master’s in Communication Design at ESAD Matosinhos in Porto, Portugal in 2024.

Nebus Kitessa is a senior at MIT majoring in mechanical engineering with a concentration in product design.

Bernardo Morais is a freelance graphic designer with a Master’s in Graphic Communication Design from BAU, College of Arts and Design in Barcelona.

Krisna Pratama is currently pursuing a Master’s in Creative Engineering at Chiba University in Japan, focusing on the intersection of design, technology, and culture. He holds a BA in Visual Communication Design from Institut Teknologi Bandung in Indonesia.
Choosing design
Wendy Li: I didn’t grow up expecting to pursue design—I focused mostly on math and economics. Fine art and product design were just effortless hobbies, and I even started teaching younger students at school. When it came time for university, I applied to product design programs, drawn by the idea of solving problems through imagination. During my foundation year, we rotated through different subjects, and to be honest, I didn’t even know what graphic design was. But much of my earlier work already fit under graphic communication design—I just didn’t have the words for it. Lucy Alexander, my program director, noticed a clarity and energy in that work that surpassed my product design projects and encouraged me to switch majors. That really stuck with me, so I gave it a try and never looked back.
Leonie Ebbing: Looking back, I think what drew me to design was my early love for drawing and crafting—I’d often recreate pretty illustrations just for the joy of making something visually pleasing. I’ve always enjoyed the process of making things look nice, whether in school or in my free time.
Nebus Kitessa: When I came to the U.S. from Ethiopia, I explored different majors but kept coming back to design. I joined DesignPlus, a freshman learning community—the first cohort at MIT—which gave me a broader, low-commitment introduction to different aspects of design. I started as an Arts and Design major, but it felt too broad and lacked the technical depth I wanted. So I switched to mechanical engineering with a concentration in design, combining both fields and gaining skills from each.
What drew me to design in the first place was creativity: the freedom to be wild, to tell stories through your work without fixed rules.
If people resonate with it, great; if not, you try a new approach. That way of thinking really speaks to me.
Bernardo Morais: I had a close childhood friend whose mom was a graphic design teacher, which I always thought was super rad. We used to play video games together and decided to start our own clan—and to make it feel official, we figured it needed a visual identity. We spent hours messing around with cracked versions of Photoshop, playing with fonts and hilariously pixelated images. That’s the first time I remember seriously considering a career in design—just because of how much fun I had.
Krisna Pratama: I started seriously thinking about pursuing design in high school, when I realized I wanted to work in the creative industries. My passion was originally illustration—I grew up reading everything from American superhero comics to Japanese manga, and dreamed of becoming an illustrator. That drive pushed me to aim for the top public art and design university in Indonesia, the Bandung Institute of Technology, which later became my alma mater.
How design definition evolved
Wendy Li: I don’t think I’ve ever had a clear definition, and the more I study, the harder it is to define design. I started early, experimenting with 3D and product design, exploring structure, form, and how objects interact with space. But those were practical exercises, not definitions. Even when I studied design methodologies, they felt like tools, not explanations.
I’ve come to see design as a social construct—something that means different things to different people. In that way, design is about shaping what design can be—a kind of “designing design.”
For me, it’s about studying the past, experiencing the present, and shaping the future through my hands, head, and heart.
Leonie Ebbing: Over the course of my studies, my understanding of design has shifted from seeing it mainly as a form of expression or aesthetic craft to recognizing it as a powerful practice with real responsibility. I’ve come to see how design shapes the way people access, interpret, and engage with the world—and that every design decision matters. A turning point was my Master’s project, where I interviewed people with dyslexia about their preferences for font, layout, and color. It showed me how easily design can exclude, even making something as basic as reading difficult or impossible.
Since then, I’ve become more conscious of the broader impact of my work. Design isn’t just about solving problems—it’s about doing so ethically, inclusively, and with real attention to human needs.
Nebus Kitessa: Back home, the only design I knew was architecture and maybe interior design. I didn’t even realize product or industrial design were degree programs. Through DesignPlus, we had weekly speakers from all corners of design—engineers, artists, musicians—sharing their projects, and it opened my eyes to how broad the field really is. I saw that I didn’t have to stick to architecture; I could navigate through all of it. At MIT, design has definitely taken on a more technical focus. It’s engineering-heavy, and even design leans that way, which I’ve come to appreciate—especially seeing the demand for technical skills. We had classes on things like large language models in design or electronics and object interaction—integrating code into design. It’s not always directly applicable yet, but it’s a valuable way to understand design beyond just the artistic side.
Krisna Pratama: When I started university, I saw design mainly as a way to create visuals—illustrations, animations, aesthetically pleasing objects—but over time, I realized it’s really about solving problems. This shift led me to change my major from Visual Communication Design to Product Design in my second year, wanting to focus more on function than just form. I began to see design as a way to create meaningful experiences rooted in a deep understanding of human needs. Courses in design thinking, research, and user-centered methods opened my eyes to design’s broader role in shaping society, services, and interactions. I started viewing it as a strategic process that blends empathy, logic, and creativity, which led me to explore service and social design—fields that continue to shape the kind of designer I want to be.
Since moving to Japan for my master’s, my view has become more focused: I used to believe design had to challenge the status quo through big, ambitious ideas, but now I think good design often lies in small, thoughtful improvements that quietly enhance daily life—it’s about sensitivity, continuity, and cultural understanding, not just disruption.
Facing doubts and moving forward
Leonie Ebbing: My first real design job was tough: being expected to generate creative ideas on demand or design things I found visually unpleasant was often frustrating. On top of that, constantly feeling like I wasn’t good enough—not creative, fast, or clever enough—made me question my path, and I eventually stepped away from design for a while. But over time, I missed creating.
I felt the urge to learn and grow creatively again, which led me to apply for a master’s degree. This helped me reconnect with design on my own terms and reminded me why I chose this path in the first place.
Nebus Kitessa: Until senior year, I wasn’t confident I was in the right place. As a design major, it was hard to find my footing in the job market—especially in the U.S., where experience carries so much weight. But after adding mechanical engineering, I found more defined roles and real demand for my skill set. It’s a bit disheartening that it often comes down to what others want from you, but I’ve made peace with that. At MIT, most people are in CS or other engineering fields, and not many understand design, which made me question myself at times—but over time, you build skills and gain confidence. I also know I can’t spend time on things I don’t enjoy or see a future in; I’d rather shape what I have into something viable than start over elsewhere. And honestly, there’s just a part of me that loves design—I can’t always explain it, but it’s something I’m deeply passionate about.
Bernardo Morais: What helps most is reminding myself that being a practicing designer is a privileged position—and mixing in a few passion or silly projects alongside the work keeps things balanced.
Krisna Pratama: There were moments of doubt when I chose a creative career over more “stable” paths like engineering, law, or medicine. A major turning point was switching from Visual Communication Design to Product Design in my second year—since design majors at my university start then, I had little exposure beforehand, and the change brought a wave of uncertainty. Even after graduating, I sometimes questioned my choice, especially in an Indonesian job market that favors more visually oriented degrees like Visual Communication or Interior Design.
What kept me going was a mix of curiosity and small personal wins. I began to see how design thinking could create real-world impact, even in subtle ways. Collaborating with peers, tackling meaningful projects, and learning from experienced designers reminded me why I chose this path. One of the most validating moments was receiving the MEXT scholarship to study design in Japan—it reaffirmed I was on the right track and gave me the confidence to keep going.
Stereotypes debunked through experience
Wendy Li: I used to think design was a solo hero’s journey, but in reality, it’s deeply collaborative and depends on structured processes and collective effort.
Leonie Ebbing: I think a common stereotype about design is that it’s just about making things look nice—and early on, I sometimes approached projects that way. But good design usually starts long before any visual decisions are made; it’s about identifying the right problem, asking thoughtful questions, understanding user needs, and shaping information to be accessible and meaningful.
Nebus Kitessa: One of my stereotypes was that design is only artistic or limited to architecture. Now I know it can be virtual, physical, hardware—so many forms. Its flexibility and adaptability are what made design more appealing to me over time.
Bernardo Morais: One of the main stereotypes is that a designer should be able to do it all.
Throughout my journey, I’ve felt the expectation that a designer should handle everything from UX/UI to product design, animation, illustration—even video editing. The list goes on, and I find that both unfair and unsustainable.
What matters most in design today
Wendy Li: What matters most to me is aligning my work with my values—authenticity, empathy, and the courage to take risks. I find it hardest when I’m expected to play it safe and eliminate all risk. That’s why I try to work with collaborators who also believe in meaningful, value-driven work.
Nebus Kitessa: The most important thing for me is creativity—that’s what sets design apart from other fields. It’s the ability to tell your story in your own way and feel alive doing it, and I want to hold onto that for as long as I’m in this field. I admire work that’s both aesthetically beautiful and functional. Maybe I don’t have a traditional artistic soul, but I value a strong technical foundation. I think that balance is what makes design powerful.
Bernardo Morais: I’ll go a bit rogue and name three things (in no particular order): a well-oiled, structured workflow; clear communication with both team members and clients; and a healthy work-life balance.
Krisna Pratama: For me, the most important part of being a designer is empathy. Over time, I’ve realized that good design isn’t just about aesthetics or technical precision—it’s about understanding the people you’re designing for. It means connecting with their needs, desires, challenges, and cultures. What drives me is the chance to contribute positively to society through design that’s thoughtful, sustainable, and accessible.