3B

Wednesday, April 8, 2020 // The Statement3B

W

hen my grandpa passed away 
over two months ago, one of 
my friends asked if we were 

close. I remember responding, “You know 
in school when you’re asked to write about 
a person who inspires you? He has always 
been that person for me.”

Throughout my life, my grandpa, Charles 

VanHampler, inspired me in many ways. In 
the way he patiently raised five daughters 
in a two bedroom and one bathroom home. 
In the way he loved my grandma, bringing 
her flowers and holding her hand through 
the hardships of her dementia. In the way 
he’d sit in the bleachers for each one of my 
brother’s hockey games, standing close up 
against the glass to get the best view.

Grandpa was a carpenter for over 45 

years. I do not know many details about 
the specific work he did except that he 
helped build the middle school I attended, 
even losing his wedding ring during the 
construction. Every time I would walk in 
a certain hall of the school, I would point 
to the ground and tell my friends, “My 
grandpa’s wedding ring is somewhere 
under these tiles!” Grandpa has always 
been drawn to fixing and building 
things, especially in creative ways. I was 
fortunate enough to grow up learning and 
participating in his creative processes.

At a young age, I spent most of my days 

at my grandparents’ house, which was 
thankfully a few blocks away from where 
I live. As a little 3-year-old who barely 
knew how to count, I would dial my 
grandparents’ number on my house phone, 
saying “Papa, come pick me up,” and his car 
would pull into my driveway five minutes 
later. 

The time I spent with my grandpa was 

not ordinary: Our go-to activity wasn’t 
going on walks or playing with toys. 
Instead, Grandpa always envisioned a 
project for us to do, some artistic vision 
that we would work to bring to life over 
the course of the day I spent there, or even 
lasting weeks. These projects depended on 
how old I was at the time, but all consisted 
of innovative ideas, a large set of tools and 
would end with us celebrating with a trip 
to get ice cream.

Our projects started quite simple, like 

when we painted trees on a canvas and then 
glued whole walnuts on the branches to 
make a walnut tree. In the winter, we used 
snow to build Barney and poured cranberry 
juice all over our sculpture to produce 
Barney’s purple hue. We constructed 
homemade puzzles, too — I would trace 
a drawing onto wooden tablets, paint over 
it, and then my grandpa would carve the 
wood into little puzzle pieces. 

As I got older, the projects became 

more complex and were constructed on 
larger mediums. After my grandparents 
got a new TV, we used its box, which had 
been laying around idle, to construct a 
3-foot cardboard cruise ship, which we 

called “the Queen Elizabeth.” We glued on 
details like windows to the shift and small 
dinghies hanging off the side, making the 
ship a perfect place to play with my Polly 
Pocket dolls.

With each project, I was in awe of how 

we could create something special together 
with just the tools and objects sitting 
around in Grandpa’s house. I was proud of 
how meticulous we were in making sure 
our projects turned out precisely as we 
wished. Even though I was young, Grandpa 
let me work on much of the construction, 
trusting me to carefully carve with an 
Exacto knife or diligently spread Gorilla 
Glue on a surface, thus giving me hands-on 
experience with building and designing. 

However, as I got older and busier 

with school, I spent less time at my 
grandparents’ house. Our projects became 
less frequent and more oriented around 
school assignments I occasionally needed 
help with. A fifth-grade project requiring 
a presentation on tectonic plates led us to 
continue our favorite activity of making 
puzzles, but this time the puzzle was made 
up of plate boundaries. My favorite was 
an elementary school science assignment 
where I had to create a circuit that lit up a 
lighthouse. With Grandpa’s help, I was able 
to set up the web cables and circuit board 

quickly. But we always had to go above 
and beyond, so we spent the next few days 
perfecting a paper mache mountain that 
the lighthouse was built upon. 

During my childhood, I thought the 

activities Grandpa and I did during the day 
were common between granddaughters 
and grandpas. I just assumed that my 
friends were doing the same thing 
during their summer break — at their 
grandparent’s house sawing pieces of wood 
and drinking Boston Coolers on a swing 
they constructed just a few hours before. 
As I got older and noticed our relationship 
was unique, I realized how special it was 
for him to share his passion for design 
and construction with me. It is even 
more special for me to have gained that 
same passion as I watched him work. We 
were two minds with different ages and 
perspectives, but were able to envision and 
accomplish such innovative projects. 

At the time, each project felt like fun, 

not work. Yet each day, my skills were 
evolving, and as I watched my grandpa lead 
us through each creation, my imagination 
was growing. I mimicked his meticulous 
craft, not moving on to the next step of 
a project until we mixed the perfect sky 
blue shade of paint or until a shape of wood 
was completely sanded evenly. I learned 

that hardwood stores are not a necessity 
because any spare pipe, string, or slab 
of wood lying around Grandpa’s garage 
always became an essential part of the 
project. I reflected on Grandpa’s drive as 
he tinkered and toyed with the positioning 
of materials until they fit as perfectly as he 
envisioned them.

For most of my life, I thought of myself 

as analytical: I love numbers and was 
planning to study an analytical subject in 
college. Yet, my creative, artistic side had 
been brewing within me since the time 
spent in my grandparent’s basement. It 
first made its appearance when I started 
working with graphic design in high school 
as a designer for my high school newspaper. 
It continued growing when I got to college 
and continued with newspaper design at 
The Michigan Daily and graphic making 
for an application being built in BlueLab. 
It finally established itself as part of me 
with my recent acceptance to the School of 
Information.

Now, I plan to carry out my dream job as 

a user experience (UX) designer, working 
with the branding, design, usability and 
function of a product. More specifically, 
I want to work with the redesigning 
of websites and apps. This “designer” 
identity I so often felt with my Grandpa is 
now becoming a truly important part of 
my identity and career. I wish I could tell 
my grandpa, because I know how proud 
he would be. I also believe he would feel 
gratified to know that all the time and 
energy he focused on me throughout the 
years has impacted my life goals. 

As I carry out my future experimenting 

with 
the 
usability, 
usefulness 
and 

desirability provided in the interaction 
with a product, I plan to approach these 
situations the same as I did when we 
drizzled our snowman in cranberry juice, 
built puzzles and crafted ships. Though my 
imagination is not as vivid as it was when 
I was seven, I plan to channel the work 
ethic, attention to detail and innovative 
values that I learned with Grandpa.

Saying goodbye to someone you love is 

never easy. Especially with being away 
at school for the past two years, it made 
me feel like I missed out on more time I 
could have spent with him. Those first 
couple weeks after he passed away I felt 
regret and grief. However, thinking about 
his creative impact on me, especially with 
my admission into School of Information, 
has helped process that grief. Even though 
Grandpa is no longer physically here, I feel 
closer to him now than I have in a while. 

Elizabeth Bigham is a sophomore planning 

to start in the School of Information next 
fall. She is a Statement Design Editor and 

can be reached at ebigham@umich.edu.

BY ELIZABETH BIGHAM, STATEMENT DESIGN EDITOR

On working with my grandpa, and building myself

PHOTO COURTESY OF ELIZABETH BIGHAM

