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