In developing this intervention, I was driven by a desire to reimagine how I approach the beginnings of design projects with students who often see their positionality/identity as secondary to what they perceive as “real” fashion research, which is frequently rooted in Eurocentric historical references and Western ideals of taste. This observation echoes Hussain and Svendsen’s (2022) critique that design curricula often reinforce dominant narratives by privileging Western aesthetics over the diverse lived experiences of students. They argue that decolonising design education requires intentionally foregrounding student positionality, identity, and worldview as central to creative inquiry.
My central aim is to ensure that students’ identities and experiences are not just included as an aside in their design processes but are embedded from the outset as rich resources. By centring literary engagement through the Narrative Threads: Designing from Literature intervention/workshop, I seek to shift the starting point of design away from a reliance on surface visual research towards a methodology that is critical, reflective, and ethically grounded. Freire (1970) articulates the importance of this shift in stating that “education either functions as an instrument to facilitate integration of the younger generation into the logic of the present system… or it becomes the practice of freedom.” For me, this intervention seeks to enact education as the practice of freedom, encouraging students to question dominant assumptions and to design from places of lived understanding.
The idea for this intervention emerged from years of observing students defaulting to quick visual references without interrogating the deeper meanings behind their choices. For example, when asked to design from research, students often choose vintage fashion editorials, runway shows, or historical costume from Western fashion history, replicating their aesthetics without questioning the cultural, social, or political context from which these references emerge. hooks (1994) argues that such approaches position students as consumers rather than critical producers of knowledge. I wanted to create a project where students engage with complex narratives, whether about migration, gender, colonial histories, or mythologies and use these to anchor their design development in concepts that speak to their personal histories and aesthetic sensibilities.
For me, this intervention is about creating not just a safe space but a brave space. Arao and Clemens (2013) explain that while safety is important, learning about social justice and identity requires discomfort, stating, “we cannot create an environment where everyone feels safe all the time, so we shift our goal to creating brave spaces where participants can be honest about their thoughts and feelings, even if it is uncomfortable.” This distinction is crucial to my teaching practice. Safe spaces are necessary for students to feel respected, validated, and comfortable enough to engage, but brave spaces are where genuine growth occurs: where students feel supported yet challenged to move beyond what is familiar, to sit with discomfort, to question themselves and their worldviews, and to learn that not all questions have immediate solutions. Boostrom (1998) similarly argues that while the metaphor of safe space is appealing, it risks eliminating learning by removing intellectual and moral challenge, which are central to educational growth.
Challenge is, therefore, an integral part of university education, particularly within creative disciplines. Orr and Shreeve (2017) note that ambiguity and discomfort are inherent to art and design pedagogy, fostering the capacity for students to think critically, negotiate uncertainty, and produce original work. In this intervention, students are invited to grapple with literature curated for its strong central characters and complex narratives focused on identity, belonging, and power. This task requires them to reflect on their own identities, cultures, and worldviews in relation to the literature they engage with. Freire (1970) articulates this imperative clearly, stating, “students, as they are increasingly posed with problems relating to themselves in the world and with the world, will feel increasingly challenged and obliged to respond to that challenge.” It is this intellectual and emotional challenge that fosters deeper critical thinking, cultural awareness, and creative authorship.
When developing the 30-book reading list, I reflected on my own relationship with literature and learning. I have always struggled to read fiction and rarely find novels that hold my attention long enough to engage fully. This reflection shaped my decision to select texts that offer multiple entry points, including audiobooks and film adaptations, to support students who, like me, engage better through auditory or visual modes. Brookfield (2017) argues that critically reflective teachers must acknowledge how their own learning preferences shape their pedagogical choices. By doing so, we model reflexivity and accessibility in our practice.
However, fostering courage requires addressing accessibility in all its dimensions. Students’ ability to engage bravely depends on their ability to engage meaningfully in the first place. This includes ensuring that language used in readings and class discussions is accessible to students for whom English is an additional language, providing glossaries, subtitles, and transcripts, and ensuring alternative formats for students with disabilities (Blair, 2006; hooks, 1994). For example, in my workshop plans, I included a glossary-building exercise to support vocabulary acquisition and confidence in using complex terminology when discussing texts.
Taking a devil’s advocate perspective, I have questioned whether centring personal positionality risks becoming self-indulgent or lacking academic rigour. There is a temptation within design education to value what is “objective” and “professional,” often defined through Eurocentric or commercial lenses. Yet Freire (1970) warns that education disconnected from learners’ lived realities risks irrelevance. hooks (1994) similarly contends that education becomes truly liberatory when students can connect personal and cultural experiences with broader structural critiques. Boostrom (1998) adds that learning should involve encountering what is strange, troubling, and even threatening, as these are the experiences that catalyse growth. Thus, integrating positionality is not about self-indulgence; it is about rigorously interrogating how one’s identity, power, and worldview shape design decisions and outcomes.
In my teaching practice, I have witnessed how bringing personal narratives into design work enhances both process and outcomes. For example, in a previous muse/identity project in year two of BA menswear, a student exploring migration drew on their family’s history to produce a look that communicated resilience through presentation, construction, and textile choice. The outcome demonstrated not only technical skill but also cultural critique, narrative sensitivity, and emotional resonance. This reinforces my belief in the transformative potential of interventions that centre students’ positionality for their confidence, authorship, and sense of belonging within the curriculum.
To create these brave spaces effectively, I recognise the importance of equipping students with structured tools for critical engagement. Brookfield (2017) emphasises that questions are powerful pedagogical tools to stimulate critical reflection. In this intervention, I integrated structured prompts for literature analysis, such as:
What assumptions does this text make about identity or power?
How does your own lived experience shape your reading of it?
Whose voices are missing, and how might you amplify them through design?
What cultural meanings does this narrative hold, and how might these inform silhouette, materiality, or construction?
Additionally, embedding positional pedagogy (hooks, 1994) that values students’ identities as resources rather than barriers is essential. This requires me to be intentional in the language I use in class, the references I select, and the ways I facilitate group discussions to ensure all voices are heard and respected. I am also conscious of teaching resilience and emotional literacy, supporting students to recognise that discomfort is part of growth and creativity (Blair, 2006). This involves normalising vulnerability in the design process and providing strategies for sitting with discomfort productively.
Encouraging dialogue and multiple perspectives is central to this work. Boostrom (1998) cautions against the myth of a single correct reading, which can shut down critical thinking. By modelling openness and curiosity, I hope to build students’ confidence in expressing interpretations rooted in their experiences while also critically interrogating them within broader contexts.
Looking forward, I plan to refine this intervention by developing pre-workshop materials that outline what ‘brave’ space means in practice, co-creating ground rules with students to establish collective responsibility for dialogue, and incorporating reflective questions about accessibility needs to ensure that learning is inclusive for all. I also aim to work more closely with disability support and English Language Development tutors to review the reading list and lesson materials for accessibility barriers I may have missed.
Ultimately, I believe challenge is a fundamental pillar of creative university education. This intervention positions bravery, critical engagement, and positionality at the heart of learning. As Orr and Shreeve (2017) emphasise, ambiguity, uncertainty, and discomfort are not pedagogical failures but productive conditions for creative learning. My intention is to support students in becoming designers who create work that is not only visually compelling but also intellectually rigorous, socially aware, and grounded in their unique identities.
It is through these brave, critically engaged spaces that higher education can fulfil its purpose: to expand students’ horizons, equip them with the critical and creative capacities to navigate complex global contexts, and empower them to imagine and shape alternative futures with empathy, intention, and courage.
References
Arao, B. and Clemens, K. (2013). From Safe Spaces to Brave Spaces: A New Way to Frame Dialogue Around Diversity and Social Justice. In: L.M. Landreman (ed). The Art of Effective Facilitation. Stylus Publishing, pp. 135–150.
Blair, B. (2006). At the end of a huge crit in the summer, it was ‘crap’. Art, Design & Communication in Higher Education, 5(2), 83–95.
Boostrom, R. (1998). Safe spaces: Reflections on an educational metaphor. Journal of Curriculum Studies, 30(4), 397–408.
Brookfield, S.D. (2017). Becoming a Critically Reflective Teacher. 2nd ed. Jossey-Bass.
Freire, P. (1970). Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Continuum.
hooks, b. (1994). Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom. Routledge.
Hussain, S. and Svendsen, M. (2022). Decolonising the Design Curriculum: Considering Positionality, Identity and Power in Design Education. The Design Journal, 25(4), 489–503.
Orr, S. and Shreeve, A. (2017). Art and Design Pedagogy in Higher Education: Knowledge, Values and Ambiguity in the Creative Curriculum. Routledge.
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