The UX Identity Crisis: Just What Is it That You Do?

"So just what is it that you do?" 

My mom interrupts me with the question before I've finished the set-up. It was days ago and I was trying to tell her about my new life as a UXer now that I'm only three classes shy of my master's degree from DePaul. I stumble a bit, sputter words like "problem solver," "web developer," and whisper "designer," as if it's some kind of disease I don't want to pass on to her. What is it that I do? I thought. 

The UX Unicorn Syndrome

I can't really chastise my mom. She's not alone. From my ex-boyfriend, to my BFF, to the street musician kind enough to listen to me; people seem to haven't a clue what I will do in the UX world.

My degree isn't even in UX (user experience for everyone not in the know). It's in Human Computer Interaction, a phrase already obsolete before the ink is even dry on my as-yet-to-be-bestowed graduate diploma. 

And as I look at job descriptions using the all-encompassing UX label my mind began to whirl. To this camp of corporate recruiters it seems the question isn't what I did; but what didn't I do? And the answer seems to be it better not be much that you don't do. 

It seems the world's definition of a UX hire is a wireframing, prototyping, graphic artist rendering, researching, usability testing, web data analyzing, HTML, CSS, JavaScript, Python coding, Pulitzer-Prize writing, SEO'ing, PPCing, marketing, saint who plays well with others, and manages about 100 projects a day. Not to mention the person also poops rainbows and saves kittens. 

To this camp it seemed the question for a UX staffer is:
What DON'T you do?

I exaggerate slightly. (Maybe about the kittens....) And though I posses a whole lot of those skills; (well all of them I'm a woman considerable intellectual curiosity; what can I say?) my real reason for getting into UX has little do with those skills and everything to do with the wonderment of design. 

My Own UX Definition

When I first started really contemplating HCI, product design, UX whatever you want to call it, I often envisioned that for me to be successful in this field I would have to be that unicorn.

I'd have to be someone's Jonathan Ive (sans the glum stare and bald head) and come up with some grand sweeping, yet achingly beautiful design that would change the world forever (my delusion).

I admit I was intimidated. My background isn't design...it's the opposite of design. I was a journalist and researcher for 20 years. I cared not about the aesthetics and all about the application. 

Whenever I did have to design...back in the cut-and-paste error of six-column newspaper pages and late night copyediting sessions, I would get a knot in my stomach so far I was out of my element. 

"I suck at design," was my war cry. 

 But even though I felt I didn't have an "eye," for design I could spot "something wrong," right away. A door that reads "Push," but really was a pull. A flap of carpet caught in an entry way. A bold splash of red overpowering a powder blue, a line of people walking into the street to avoid an ill-placed bus stop near the curb.
I would sigh and shake my head and wonder out loud and with much exasperation why customers had to give their order FIVE TIMES, at a local fast food restaurant. "So inefficient, " I would whisper. Then look around shocked as if trying to spot who uttered such insults. 

Inefficiency in anything... location, color, service or experience just drove me batty. Chaos in otherwise order made me wanna' holla'.

I just didn't like drudgery in use so I normally would change the design of something to fit my simple needs. I would literally rearrange things...counters, cups, books, signs, you name it just to make the "flow" better. 

My UX Is All about Happiness 

And now as I am nearly done with the program I have to say I see design...not in grand, award-winning, universally transformative ways but more in small avenues that are noticed only by the small tribe of users who share a common experience, enhanced by the use of products. 

It's an experience that becomes so enriching and so satisfying that they actually rejoice in its moment of existence. Imagine if each time your customer visited your online store they actually smiled at check out? Yes, this sounds simple and pollyish but just think about all you have to do in a day. Think of all the drama, people, environments that you have to deal with.

Think of each moment of your day and show me when you've have one pure moment of joy so awesome it made you smile. And long after the experience you still remember it so much so that that moment infiltrates your entire environment turning gray skies blue. People don't have to spend money. Why not make it enjoyable when they do? 

That to me is UX. That to me is good design. Good design that brings about these stolen moments of joy by eliminating the barriers between people and what they want.

This, whatever it is, be it a word, interface, product or system, doesn't have to be grandiose, overly artful or flashy. It can be just practical, simple and memorable only for its ability to solve a vexing problem.  

In class today my professor asked, "What is UX?" It reminded me of my mom's echoing question about what I was going to do with this third chapter of my professional life. And I smiled, because I finally get to do what I've always wanted to do and have spent a lifetime preparing for. 

"I make people happy," I answered, without a hint of irony. "By solving a problem and making it easier for them to get what they want."