I appreciate being asked to reflect on a design leader whom I admire and whose leadership style inspires me. Honestly, I’ve never really thought deeply about what “design leadership” actually means. Is it just about being high-level in your organization, like a Creative Director? Or is a design leader someone with awards, patents, big-name clients, or a massive following? For a long time, I thought so. I assumed design leaders were people like Jony Ive, Steve Jobs, Nancy Duarte, John Warnock, David Kelley, or the ad agency icons behind campaigns at Chiat\Day or Goodby Silverstein & Partners. They felt like the design leaders of my career — people who made a big impact, publicly and visibly.
But recent learnings from this class have shifted how I think about design leadership, and even leadership in general. It’s made me realize that design leadership doesn’t always come with a title or trophies. It can happen at any level, including as an individual contributor or a mid-level manager. And it can happen quietly, through education, vision, and the ability to bring people together around a common design goal.
So if I trace my own journey as a designer — and eventually a design leader — it really begins at Adobe, during my senior year of college at San José State University. I interned on a small team called Worldwide Sales Tools (WWST) and stayed on to transition into a full-time role. It was my first job out of school, and I stayed at Adobe for six years.
My first manager during that time, Brent Haley, is someone I consider to be the best manager I’ve ever worked with and a true design leader. He hired me as an intern, brought me on as a full-time designer, mentored me through the early years of my career, and helped shape much of the way I approach design, business, and (design) leadership to this day.
Our team’s mission was to help Adobe’s Sales, Marketing, and other business units demonstrate how Adobe’s tools could solve real-world problems. This involved creating print and digital campaigns featuring fictional companies or campaigns, showing step-by-step how the software could be used for tasks such as designing logos and brochures, building websites and interactive media, or producing animations and TV ads. We weren’t just promoting features; we were crafting end-to-end solutions that told a story and addressed user needs and pain points. And while it wasn’t a formal UX role, in hindsight, many UX principles were baked into our process: user research, empathy, usability, and iteration.
Brent was at the center of all this. There were a few other program-level managers on our team, but Brent wore the most hats on the team: Creative director, strategist, art director, and marketer. He didn’t just lead the work. He led the people doing the work. He was empathetic, honest, and deeply invested in helping us grow. I connected with him instantly. Our shared backgrounds, values, humor, and mindset made it easy. But what made him a standout leader was how he blended creativity with business sense. He taught me early on that design wasn’t just about making things look good; it was about creating impact, telling compelling stories, and driving business outcomes.
He gave us (the three designers) space to explore and experiment, but always kept the process structured and on track. Our campaigns were iterative, with updates released every nine months or so. As new products launched, we’d evolve our demos and materials to highlight the latest features. Brent coordinated timelines, communicated with stakeholders, and gave us room to prototype and test ideas. We worked hard, especially near launch and trade show dates. However, we were rewarded with generous time off and travel budgets that made the work feel appreciated and fun.
One thing I really appreciated about Brent was his approach to feedback and mentorship. He knew when to step in and when to give space. He celebrated our wins and shielded us from unnecessary pressure. And when something wasn’t working, he pulled us aside privately and addressed it with care and clarity. He always seemed to know what was on my mind. He could read people like that — or at least me. I’ve never had a manager who understood me so well. While I don’t naturally share his level of emotional intelligence, I believe empathy can be developed, and I try to channel that now when I work with others.
Design doesn’t happen in isolation, and Brent understood that. He was a connector who brought design into conversations with all of the internal and external stakeholders. He taught me how to speak the language of business and translate design decisions into outcomes that stakeholders cared about. That ability to be a bridge between creative and business thinking has become one of the most valuable lessons of my career.
Looking back, Brent’s leadership shaped not only how I see design in business but also how I approach work in general. After Adobe, I eventually went on to run my own boutique design agency for 10 years. At one point, I had a team of five. I didn’t set out to lead a studio out of ambition. I did it out of necessity after relocating back to San Jose, CA, from Denver, CO, in the middle of the 2008 recession. But in building that business, I found myself drawing on everything Brent taught me. His influence showed up in how I managed and directed others, how I structured projects, how I communicated with clients and the team, and even in how I handled stress and setbacks. He used to say, “Change is the only constant,” and, “It’s better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission.” I still live by both.
Today, although I’ve been a lead and a founding designer, I’m still mostly in an individual contributor role. But I now see that design leadership doesn’t require managing a team or holding a big title. I’ve found opportunities to lead through mentorship, cross-functional collaboration, and by advocating for thoughtful design decisions. I often take initiative in shaping design strategy, translating complex stakeholder requirements into clear, user-centered solutions, and being a voice for quality in fast-moving environments. Even when no one is officially “in charge,” I’ve learned that leadership can simply mean showing up consistently, taking responsibility, and creating space for others to contribute.
I’ve also started mentoring newer and aspiring designers and freelancers, helping them navigate industry paths and client relationships, build portfolios, and manage creative burnout. These experiences have made me appreciate how much Brent’s influence still shapes the way I talk about design, work, and growth. I try to be the kind of person I would’ve wanted to work for when I was starting out: Someone supportive, honest, and approachable. I don’t always get it right, and I know I have a lot to learn about managing teams. But I’ve come to believe that leadership is something you develop through practice, reflection, and intention.
I wish I had learned some of these principles of design leadership discussed in the class earlier in my career. Although, to be fair, many of these lessons are best learned through experience — by being hands-on in the trenches, not just from a classroom or textbook. Still, I do wish I had been more exposed to, or at least more aware of, ideas like empathy, collaboration, inclusivity, and accessibility. These aren’t just principles of good design leadership; they’re foundational to strong leadership in any field.
Looking ahead, I hope to step more fully into design leadership and strategy. I want to build off of my foundation in visual/graphic design, photography, motion graphics, and branding, while deepening my skills in systems thinking, strategic decision-making, and user advocacy. Brent taught me that great design leadership starts with people first, and that’s a lesson I plan to carry into whatever comes next.