Twist and Shout - Arizona State University



“Suck a Granberry!”

By Matthew Mang

“Hey guys, you won’t believe how tired I am from cutting squares.”

“Well, just suck a ‘Granberry’!”

It’s 7:30 pm on a Monday night, with ten more minutes before the start of my graphic design studio class. I am a first year graphic design major striving for the extremely competitive upper division graphic design program at ASU. As a first step, the studio class, Principles of Graphic Design I, is a mandatory course in the program. Despite the fact I find most our projects in that class to be tedious, it is still my favorite class.

At ASU, all Graphic Design majors are considered to be a part of the ASU Graphic Design Student Association. However, I am particularly close with the classmates in this studio class. With a small class size of ten students and a class environment that calls for a lot of direct interaction between students as well as the professor, there is a deeper sense of community within the classroom rather than a simple gathering place for students to complete their assignments. The results are interesting when you put a few creative minded people in a room from 7:40 pm – 9:30 pm, two nights a week.

You might be wondering why most of us would voluntarily sign up for such a late class. The fact of the matter is we didn’t. As if fate had brought this motley crew of college kids together, all of us signed up for this class simply because it was the only design studio time slot available.

“Man, I’m tired already… and class hasn’t even started yet,” I mumble lazily.

While it is a class and basic school rules apply, the studio environment allows for a lot of student interaction. Indeed, ten minutes before class and the room has already started its ascent into pandemonium.

Sitting at the table across from my usual seat is Jessie. She is one of the warmest people in the class, always with a smile on her face. Today is no exception. As I begin to pull out my materials for our project, she beams at me. I return the smile.

Moments later, our professor, Shannon Ecke, walks in. As one of the younger faculty members, she prefers for us to simply call her Shannon. At times, she almost seems more like a fellow student rather than a professor, often relearning or experimenting with different techniques shortly before teaching the rest of the class. Today however, is a work day with no new projects for her to introduce.

“Ahh!! NOO! Not again!” cries out a curly-haired girl in despair.

That girl is Erika. A diligent girl who is constantly engrossed in her projects, she always seems to be on top of all our projects. However, today appears to be an off-day for her. Judging by her wails of frustration, I can only assume that she has messed up one of her Plaka paint square illustrations. However, no one seems to care how loud her bouts of frustration are. After all, we all are feeling the pain of hand painting perfectly centered black squares, requiring measurements accurate within a single millimeter.

“I hate Plaka paint,” I groan.

“Actually, I know a graphic designer who named his cat Plaka. Isn’t that funny?” asks Shannon.

“That is the nerdiest graphic design thing I’ve heard,” calls out a girl two tables to the left.

That’s Lauren. Blunt and outspoken, if there is an unofficial “leader” among the students, it is her. She coined many of our class phrases such as “suck a Granberry,” which is a play on Erika’s last name, Granberry. While the phrase is the equivalent to “suck it up,” the inclusion of “Granberry” is simply added for comedic effect. “It’s like a cranberry, only older!” is Lauren’s explanation of how Erika’s last name is amusing. As one of the friendliest members of our community, I have spent many late nights chatting with her online. She was also the one who started the Facebook group for our class, creating the name, “the Good Looking Folks of GRA121” for our little community.

Sitting next to Lauren is the other extroverted member of the group, Elizabeth Lamb, though most of us just call her Lamb. She’s Lauren’s sidekick and often accompanies Lauren on various eccentric adventures, both on and off campus.

“ ‘Sup Nick?” I call out to the guy sitting across from Lamb.

“Hey Matt,” he replies.

Nick is the cynic of the group. Despite being one of the nicest and most genuine guys I know, a lot of things seem to get on his nerves. With tattoos and multiple body piercings, he projects a tough guy image. Adding to that image is the fact that he also trains and practices capoeira, the Brazilian martial art otherwise known as “dance fighting.”

“Last week’s class definitely sucked,” says Nick.

“That’s for sure,” I reply. I shudder at the thought of our last studio class. “I wonder if Kim is alright…” I think out loud. Kim, the token drug user of our group, collapsed and went into a seizure just as class was about to start. While she talked a lot about doing various drugs before, no one took her seriously until that day. The ordeal left the whole class shaken and unable to work for the rest of class that night.

In light of her recent seizure in class, many of us have urged her to quit taking drugs, but to no avail. She denies that she has a problem, stating that she is epileptic and has had seizures ever since she was in kindergarten. Despite hearing about her condition, many of us, including me, still maintain the belief that any drugs she takes will make her condition worse. However, none of us can make the choice for her.

As if on cue, Kim enters the classroom. Many of the students breathe a sigh of relief.

“Oh my God, Kim, are you okay?” asks Erika.

“Haha, you look so concerned,” answers Kim cheerfully. Erika stares at her, attempting to communicate the graveness of last class’s situation without actually saying it. Several other classmates mirror Erika’s expression.

Kim seems to understand, quickly adding, “Oh sorry guys. It’s just that this kinda’ thing happens to me all the time, so now I just find it funny.”

“That was not funny. At all,” says Nick in very serious tone. Luckily, after a few moments of awkward silence, the class resumes its usual state of constant banter.

“Does anyone know where Mark is?” asks Shannon, attempting to talk above the din. However, no one responds to the inquiry. As the class continues to clamor, Shannon repeats her question, this time substituting Mark with the name “Ross.”

Immediately, Lauren responds with a simple, “He’s sick.”

“Ross” is the guitar player of the group, who occasionally sings songs off key during class, much to our amusement. While his real name is Mark, Lauren and Lamb gave him the nickname “Ross,” due to his resemblance to the character of the same name on the TV show, Friends. The name stuck so much to the point where it almost seems like most people in our group have forgotten his real name, as shown by the lack of response when Shannon referred to him as Mark. Indeed, sometimes when I talk to him, I have to think for a minute, deciding on whether I should call him Mark or Ross. However, despite Lauren’s statement, “Ross” came into the classroom shortly after.

“Ouch!” cries a girl with a slightly nasally tone of voice.

That would be Jenna. While she claims that she has no artistic ability, she is definitely the hardest working of the bunch. Whereas most of the class starts to socialize rather than work during the last half hour of class, Jenna is a real trooper, working hard at painting, cutting, or whatever our current project requires, up until the last minute of class. As a result, it seems cutting herself while cutting out her square projects has come to be the norm for her. I myself have accidentally cut off a chunk of my left index finger once in this class. I couldn’t play guitar for a week after that. Graphic design is a lot more dangerous than most people tend to think.

“Did you cut your finger again?” asks a pretty girl sitting next to me.

“Yeah…” replies Jenna.

The girl sitting next to me is Melody. She is the fashionista of the group, complete with her very real looking Chanel purse look alike.

“Hey Matt! Can you help me out with this rotation?” asks Melody, looking at me.

And me? Well, as the only person in the class with prior experience in Adobe software products, I’m essentially the go-to guy when Shannon’s brief Adobe Illustrator explanations do not suffice—which is almost all the time. When it comes to the computer aspect of the class, I’ve become almost a pseudo-T.A., helping the other students with slight adjustments and teaching various commands and functions of the program.

Pretty soon, an hour flies by and it’s already nine o’ clock. By this time, a fair majority of the class is walking about the room, avoiding work. Lauren examines a poster by the door and I shortly join her. The poster is for the American Institute of Graphic Artists, with many different bubbles of text that relate to graphic design.

I laugh at the bubble on the poster that reads, “I love Comic Sans! Just kidding,” and point it out to Lauren.

“Indeed. Using Comic Sans is practically a sin!” is her response, equally amused. Turning away from the poster, she asks, “Anybody going to the grocery store with me and Lamb tonight?”

“Oo! Me!” cries Jessie.

“Count me in,” replies Erika.

“Sorry guys, I gotta’ go home and finish my English essay,” I say. “As much as I like participating in our group’s traditional post-class grocery store adventure, homework is calling.”

“You always have some sort of essay due! How about you, Shannon?” asks Lauren.

“You know, once you reach a certain age, the grocery store isn’t amusing anymore…” is her response. “Oh! Look at the time. You guys can leave now if you want.”

With class finished, we head over to the elevator for our traditional “elevator party.”

Since our classroom is on the second floor of the Architecture building, our class traditionally takes the elevator down once class is over. Now this may sound rather normal—and it would be if it was just a group of strangers using the elevator. But with the “Good Looking Folks of GRA121,” even the most mundane of tasks become something much like an amusement park attraction.

This particular night is especially interesting. For one thing, we’ve managed to pack ten people into the elevator at once. After all, when it comes to parties, the more the merrier, right? Well, unfortunately, we forgot to take into account the fact that every person was carrying a large portfolio case and a 24 x 36 inch cutting board. In other words, we are crammed. It’s a good thing none of us are claustrophobic.

In addition to the simple problem of space, closing the door seems challenging, as people randomly get the urge to place limbs in front of the door, just as it starts to close.

Before we know it, five minutes go by before the elevator even starts to move. But even that isn’t the most challenging part.

Now, going from the second floor to the first may sound like a rather straightforward task, but the matter is far more complex when engaging in one of our elevator parties. Rambunctious and mischievous as a whole, you can always count on at least one person to hit several, if not all, of the buttons except the first floor, resulting in a mass struggle between the students closest to the button panel. Indeed, today, Lauren decides that our true destination is the third floor, followed by the lower level. Ross—I mean Mark—does not pay attention, and almost exits the elevator on the lower level. Elizabeth reels him back in, just as the elevator doors start to shut. Going on this up and down trip vaguely reminds me of the Tower of Terror ride at Disneyworld, minus the ghosts and the thirteen story freefall.

After several more minutes of wrong floors and Mark nearly exiting on the wrong floor every time the elevator stopped, we finally make it onto the first floor. Suddenly sleepy, I can’t wait to get home, despite how fun the class is.

When I arrive at home, I fall asleep in my bed immediately, ignoring the fact that my English essay still needs a conclusion. “I’ll just finish that essay tomorrow… zzzZZzzz…”

Waking up bright and early at 7 am to make my commute to Professor Jacques Giard’s 9:15 class, Design Awareness, I arrive at 9:10, surprised to find only Nick sitting in our usual area of the lecture room. It seems most of the others in our studio class are running late this morning. However, I don’t mind since Nick is one of my favorite people in the group.

A few moments later, Jenna and Melody join us. There’s a guest speaker today in Design Awareness. While some of the guest speakers in the class turn out to be really fascinating, such as Greg Fisher, the man responsible for the new Diamondbacks look, this speaker is quite the opposite. Dull and unimposing, his presentation is less than inspirational. His Ben Stein-like voice certainly isn’t helping either. Within minutes, Nick falls asleep. Unfortunately for Nick, we’re sitting near the front.

“Why don’t we ask this fine gentleman his opinion on the subject? Oh wait, he’s sleeping!” calls out the guest speaker. Completely oblivious, Nick continues to snore. I laugh for a bit as Melody takes a photo of Nick sleeping.

After walking together from Design Awareness, Melody, Jenna, and I make our way to the Taco Bell Express inside ASU’s student union, just as we do every Tuesday and Thursday. This choice of location is not because we all particularly love Taco Bell, but mainly because it is usually the only area of the student union that has enough empty seats to fit our group of three.

“Wow, it’s nice to have friends to eat lunch with again.” I think to myself, after recalling a particularly awkward incident towards the beginning of the year in which a strange guy asked to sit with me when I was dining alone in Pitchfork’s Café. It’s a comforting feeling to know that I’ll always have my network of graphic design friends to keep me company during the idle hours between classes and last minute homework. It is during this moment of happiness that I feel my pants vibrate. Lamb has sent me a text message. The message reads, “Lauren and I are ditching Wolf’s class to go to lunch. You game?”

I reply with a simple, “Yes.”

Shortly, I ask Melody and Jenna, “Hey guys, Lauren and Lamb want to go out to lunch instead of going to Graphic Design History, since it’s Lauren’s birthday. You guys coming?”

“Well…” replies Jenna hesitantly. I can tell she is not comfortable with the idea of ditching class.

Graphic Design History is one of those classes where you technically don’t need to attend the lectures, since the professor gives out a study guide the class day before every quiz. However, taking notes in class means you don’t have to read the book, since the notes are taken word for word from the textbook.

Since our book is quite the snore-fest, I can understand why Jenna is hesitant. However, feeling rather tired of the usual class routine, I am rather tempted to take up Lamb’s offer. There was also the fact that—

“Professor Wolf talks like the teacher from Charlie Brown: Whoa, wah, wah. Whoa, wah, wah, wah.,” quips Melody. “It’s incredibly boring. Let’s ditch.”

So at 12:15, rather than sitting in the cold lecture hall in the Coor building, the ten of us pile into Lauren’s “party van,” as she likes to call it. The van is so long, it easily fits all ten of us with room to spare. Our escapade of the day turns out to be YC’s Mongolian BBQ Grill, which is absolutely delicious.

“We should do this every time one of us has a birthday,” I call out in between mouthfuls of food.

“Definitely,” agrees Lauren. After a delicious lunch we return to ASU for our last design class.

Our day ends with the lecture portion of Principles of Graphic Design with none other than Professor Andy Weed, or simply Weed, as he prefers to be called. In this class, your grade is based solely on attendance. No homework. No tests. Just videos.

“As you guys know, I don’t like to talk about the films we watch in this class before we watch them. However, when you’re watching this film, keep this thought in mind: Do you know the difference between the words ‘senseless’ and ‘nonsense’? Think about it.” And with that, he quickly slides in the VHS with no further explanation and hits the play button. The video appears to be a freak show of rejected monster caves with a soundtrack to match. While I don’t think the video is enlightening me on the distinction between the two words, I am quite sure the video can be described as both senseless and nonsense.

“I wonder where you can buy the soundtrack for this video,” I say sarcastically. Erika, who’s sitting next to me, simply giggles. The film continues on for fifteen more minutes before the grand finale of bizarre speakers and even more bizarre sound effects draws to a close. Despite the fact the class is supposed to be an hour long, Weed wastes no time dismissing the class after only fifteen minutes. It is not very surprising, considering Weed’s class lasted five minutes on the first day of class.

As I make my fifteen minute trek from the architecture building to my car parked in the back of Lot 59, I can’t help but think of how blessed I am to have such a wonderful group of friends.

When I first started attending ASU, I had no friends in any of my lecture classes nor did I have anyone to eat lunch with. Going to college with none of my old high school friends studying the same major proved to be a lot more difficult than I had anticipated. However, my tight knit group of studio friends has truly enhanced my college experience, providing me with a safe haven and a place where I can talk about all things graphic design. From the frustrations of hand painting perfect squares for two months straight, to my love for certain fonts, this group has truly exposed me to all sides of the graphic design world. Everyone came from different places, bringing in their separate influences to the group.

While in a way, we are competing for the few coveted spots in ASU’s upper division graphic design program, I know that we will go through this process helping each other succeed, rather than only striving for personal success. We are a team of hopeful graphic designers. We are a group of unbreakable friends. We are the “Good Looking Folks of GRA121.”

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