Designing With the Kids

This wasn’t supposed to be a “design process.”

It started with a simple intention: if we were going to make hoodies for our family, I wanted to make sure the kids would actually wear them.

That meant one thing—we had to design them together.

At first, I thought it would be straightforward. I’d come up with a few ideas, show them to the kids, get a quick yes or no, and move forward.

That’s not what happened.

Instead, it became a series of conversations via text. Some quick, some ongoing. Some decisive, some… not at all. Of course, then there was checking in for the latest feedback when no response came via text at all.

I would ask:

• “Do you like this?”
• “Would you wear this?”
• “What would you change?”
• “How would you change it?”

Sometimes I got clear answers.

Other times I got shrugs. Or a “maybe.” Or a nonchalant “sure.” Or a completely different idea that sent me in another direction.

So I asked again. And then again, at a different time, in a different mood, in a different context.

What I began to realize was this:

Designing with the kids wasn’t about getting immediate answers.

It was about giving them space to discover what they liked.

And that takes time. They were not operating on Mom time, lol!

There were moments when their preferences surprised me. Something I thought was “clean” or “simple” didn’t land. Something I hadn’t considered at all suddenly became the idea.

And in those moments, I had to make a choice:

Was this about executing my vision, or creating something that felt like ours?

So we slowed down, and I’m glad that we did. My original first-pass concepts were nonexistent. I had to change the wording in the front, compromise on the size of the text in the front, then add even the Chinese characters for “deep roots” just so that phrase would stay in the front since I wanted “black joy” to still be in the front, too.

Every suggestion was followed by action and then presentation, because it was easiest for the kids to give me the feedback and have me go back to the drawing board to get follow-up feedback.

With each iteration, I noticed what they gravitated toward—colors, symbols, words, even how bold or subtle something felt.

I noticed patterns:

• what they came back to
• what they ignored
• what made them light up, even just a little

And over time, the designs started to take shape. I dropped the woodsy coloring and opted for the white that they liked against the black background of the hoodie. I added an image of a tree in the back, which they thought was too small. So I increased the size. The letters in the back were too big. So they got shrunk down.

The feedback did not come all at once, but over a span of time. Although the mix of input channels were mixed between text and speech and not at all sit-down-at-the-kitchen-table perfect, the communication and feedback was honest.

What emerged wasn’t just a custom set of hoodies that they’d be comfortable wearing, it even inspired the kids to get in front of my graphic design application to alter the typeface for the hoodie.

It was a reflection of:

• their personalities
• their identities
• what felt comfortable to them
• what felt expressive

Just as importantly, it reflected the fact that they had a say.

There’s something powerful about that.

When kids are invited into the process—not just asked for approval at the end—they engage differently. They notice more. They care more. They begin to understand that what they like, what they choose, what they express… matters.

Looking back, designing with the kids changed the outcome in ways I couldn’t have planned.

The designs became:

• more personal
• more intentional
• more worn (which was the goal all along)

But it also changed something else.

It shifted the process from creating for them…

to creating with them.

And maybe that’s the part that stays with me the most.

Because in the end, the hoodies are just one expression of something bigger:

Listening.

Iterating.

Making space.

Letting something take shape together.

If there’s one thing we’re taking forward, it’s this:

Good design doesn’t just come from having a clear idea.

It can also come from asking, listening, and being willing to be changed by what you hear.

The most rewarding part?

It was seeing my youngest wear her Black Joy hoodie proudly to a Black Affinity cookout event at her school.