After 8½ years, I decided to leave Instagram. At FacebookMeta, there's a long-standing tradition of writing an internal "badge post" to say farewell. I debated writing anything deep and meaningful for my goodbye message—I just wasn’t sure what to write that would do my time at Instagram justice (and didn't feel completely self-indulgent).
Then I remembered a presentation I gave in 2016 for an internal Design all-hands, about my “career journey” at Instagram. Now, I’m apprehensive about confidently asserting life lessons—if anything my tenure at Instagram has been an ongoing process of self-doubt and uncertainty, but that’s often been followed by opportunities for success and personal growth. In revisiting that presentation, so much of it still resonates with me and how I’ve approached the work. So with that in mind, here’s a slightly revised version:
My What? at Instagram
When I joined Instagram, there were just 6 designers, all sitting together in Building 14 at Facebook Headquarters. Instagram was about 75 people, still running like a startup inside the Facebook mothership. I’d gotten awesome vibes from the team during my interview, and was excited to report to my new manager Chris Weeldreyer, whom I’d worked with at Apple.
In our first one-on-one, the big thing Chris talked about was helping to support “my career at Facebook.” Now, this might sound crazy, but I’d never actually thought about my design career as a “thing” before. I guess I always felt like I was just lucky to have this job at all, so I never put a ton of thought into actually shaping it.
To be honest, it was a little intimidating to even talk about it in that way, but it was also exciting. I had this new job working on an awesome product, with a manager who I respected, who wanted to help me grow my career, but then just 2 weeks after I started:
Oh shit!
Chris told the team he was leaving the company. I was instantly filled with doubt about what my role at Instagram would be. I’d just joined, after 7½ years at Apple. Chris was supposed to be my connection here. Now I was left wondering, Who were my friends? Who would have my back? And what about all that career stuff?
Fortunately, Peter Deng, who was head of product at Instagram at the time, became the design team’s interim leader. Peter’s not a designer, but, among other things, he’s a great people manager, and he laid out a philosophy for how he approached filling roles at Facebook.
He said, “What are you really passionate about? What do you love doing?”
“What are you really good at? What skills do you bring to the table?”
And finally, “What does the company need right now?”
That framing still sticks with me, and it’s something I share with other designers all the time. For me, when those 3 factors have been aligned are when I’ve been the happiest in my time at Instagram.
Who do you think you are?
Peter also initiated a series of “career conversations”, which was a forum to talk with your manager about where you see your career headed, 2, 3, 5 years out.
Like I said before, I never really thought about my career with much intention before. So taking the time to envision “future me” was incredibly helpful. I still saw myself as an individual contributor, getting into the nitty gritty of design details, having fun prototyping novel interactions. I wanted to be someone who could lead a project from an idea to implementation. And ultimately, someone whose opinion fellow designers—as well as leaders in the company—respected and sought out.
Looking back, it’s interesting to note that none of my career goals were about achieving a certain level or promotion, earning a certain amount of money, or even specific accomplishments. Not that there’s anything wrong with having those types goals, but for me, my goals were about living up to a vision of how I saw myself as a designer, and how I wanted others to see me.
Laying it all out
When I joined the Instagram, I had started working on the newly formed Growth team — which was incredibly important to the company, but my heart wasn’t really in it. “Inspire creativity” was one of Instagram's core values, but I was designing sign-up flows. It wasn’t really aligned with why I joined Instagram. As a result, I was getting by, but doing the bare minimum required of me as a designer.
I worked with my manager to move off growth projects and on to creative tools. This new focus led me to saying yes to new challenges and new responsibilities. The biggest of which at that point was designing Layout. It was an incredible collaboration with a small team, and I was able to get my hands dirty on everything from writing code to designing the app icon.
Layout was a huge success at the time, and more importantly for me, it was exactly the kind of product I wanted to design—a fun and simple tool that unlocked a ton of creativity. And for the company, it established a precedent for successfully launching and growing standalone apps. It is still probably my proudest accomplishment of my time at Instagram.
With great power…
After Layout launched, Ian Spalter—our new Head of Design—tasked me with helping out with our next big product update for Instagram. Instagram was facing an existential threat—people were sharing less and less, and we needed to tackle the problem head on. I was thrilled at the opportunity to work directly with our co-founders Kevin & Mike to try to radically overhaul Instagram to make it a great place to share their daily lives again.
We went through dozens of iterations. We explored, prototyped, and very nearly shipped several potential products to solve this problem. With a project like this, there’s always going to be a lot of ups and downs. Lots of opinions. Lots of churn. “Churn” has such negative connotations, because it’s incredibly frustrating and at times demoralizing.
I believe that it’s also simply the nature of creating things…part of what makes the process rewarding is pushing through the hard times, knowing that something positive can come out on the other side. Sometimes you can’t get to the good ideas without churning through the bad ones first.
Of course, knowing that doesn’t make experiencing churn any easier. And at Meta, success & impact is often defined by shipping stuff. So when you aren’t shipping, it can feel like you’re not successful, which perpetuates those feelings of self-doubt and anxiety.
But going back to my career conversation, success for me was more than just a single product. It was vision for myself as a designer and leader in the company. Sure, some of that includes shipping great products, but it also meant doing things like finding mentorship opportunities and teaching Origami classes—things that helped me fulfill how I saw myself, while also knowing that I was contributing to the company’s greater good. Just because I wasn’t shipping anything (yet), I could have an impact.
Meanwhile, after well over a year of iteration, and two of my fave designers, Christine Choi & Ian Silber joining the effort, we launched Instagram Stories. Calling it a remarkable success is an understatement. I can’t take credit for the vision to bring Stories to Instagram—folks like Will Bailey & Nathan Sharp (to name a few) were the true champions—but I still feel fortunate to have been a part of such a special moment in Instagram’s history, and have enormous pride in helping shape the product, down to the design details from the earliest versions that live on today.
2022 Postscript: Japan and back again
At the end of this talk in 2016 I finished by saying, “I don’t know what’s next, but I do know it will be a new cycle of increased expectations…and self-doubt. The one thing I am certain of is that I’ll end up growing,” which couldn’t have been more true.
After four years of working on Stories, I jumped at the opportunity to join the new Japan team that Ian Spalter was leading. I wanted to get out of my comfort zone and do something completely different. We had a broad mandate to think big, which was exciting—but the expectations felt so high; it led to even more questions. Were our ideas big enough? Would they actually be impactful?
It turns out that getting out of your comfort zone can be…uncomfortable. Starting a new team with ambiguous goals, while moving your family to a new country, and then throwing in a global pandemic for good measure—the first year in Japan was challenging, to say the least. I doubted myself and my work daily.
And yet, I could look back on so many of my past experiences to remind myself that I’d come through it on the other side with something positive to show for it. I’ll be forever grateful to the original & current folks on the IG Japan team— especially Ian Spalter, Will Bailey and Mari Sheibley — for their support and friendship through the emotional rollercoaster of 2020 and beyond. I’m so proud of the work we’ve done in Japan, like QR codes and the Discovery Map. But now, once again, it’s time to jump into the unknown and try something new.
Post-post script: A grab bag of parting thoughts
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Always be prototyping. Besides being an incredible way to communicate your ideas and get alignment with everyone from engineers to execs, it’s just fun! Props to the Origami Studio team for making so much of what I’ve done, and love to do, possible.
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Own your presentations. There’s been a lot of talk lately about Google Slides (or at least one really good diatribe from Laura Javier). I’ll ride or die with Keynote, personally. But whatever you choose, I think it’s a product designer’s responsibility to tell the story of their designs. Work with your PM, your data scientist, your engineer to craft the narrative for your intended audience, but how the work is presented should reflect the quality and care you’ve put into the product itself. Think of it like the packaging of an iPhone. It’s as thoughtfully designed as the phone itself, and sets the owner up to be delighted.
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Be Kind. Ian has a phrase, "Go hard on the work, easy on the people" that is core to the Instagram design team's culture. In my original internal version of this post, I didn't mention kindness, since it seemed so obvious. But one of my colleagues, Paull Young, called it out in the comments on the post, and it seems worth pointing out here.
As you face the challenges of building and shipping products, don't lose sight of honoring the humanity of the people you're working with. The same holds true for those on the outside—your peers, your competitors, your customer. I truly believe that empathy is a product designer's superpower. If you're feeling resentful, dismissive, or angry—think of how you'd feel if you were in their shoes. Practice kindness—I think it improves the work (and it's just the right thing to do).