Alan Hashimoto - my mentor gone

I remember my first class with Alan Hashimoto. It was an Illustration class. I will never forget one particular moment in that class. We were sharing rough sketches of concepts for a project he had assigned. Upon reviewing my sketches, he gave a crooked half-smile (one that I would become all too familiar with over the next couple of years) and said to me, "you aren't a very good drawer, are you?" Right there he had bluntly called me out on one of my weaknesses. "Well it's just a rough sketch..." "Yeah, but you aren't a good drawer. I can tell." There was no arguing with him at that point. He directed me to just manipulate photos for this project instead of attempting to actually illustrate a human figure. That's what I did. On final critique day, my project was critiqued with mixed reviews, and ultimately I received a satisfactory grade. But that bothered me for a long time. "Not a good drawer." I felt that even though Alan had told me to use photos in my illustration project, I had somehow cheated and taken a shortcut. I didn't like the feeling. Alan was right. I was a "bad drawer." It's a skill I hadn't quite spent enough time perfecting. His blunt honesty is what pushed me to set a goal. I was determined to improve my illustration skills. I started practicing my sketching skills right then and there. By the end of that semester, I had submitted a illustrated book cover in which I painstakingly illustrated each figure on the cover as well as I could in hopes I could gain Alan's approval. It wasn't perfect by any means. In final critique on that project, Alan looked at my cover and said, "This is pretty good. It's a very unique illustration style and you pulled it off pretty well." He emphasized it wasn't perfect, but that it was good. I am not sure if he remember that just months earlier he had told me I was a "bad drawer" and to give up on sketching. But receiving his praise that day felt amazing. Alan always had a unique way of getting me to motivate myself. Just two years later, Alan was convincing me to sign up for a 3D animation class. He was sure that I would be successful with it. He was right.



I took a record number of Portfolio classes at USU; more than double the required credit hours for graduation. This left me with a lot of one-on-one time with Alan Hashimoto. Over the course of a few years, Alan became more than a professor to me, he became a mentor. His advice went beyond the organization of my portfolio, the colors of my logos, or the shoes I should wear to an interview. Alan taught me to have confidence in myself. I still remember him trying to convince me that I needed to co-teach an intro Graphic Design course at the school. He bugged me about it for three weeks until I finally caved in. At the time, I really didn't understand why he was pushing the idea on me. I was a quiet person who wasn't that great at public speaking. Why did he want me to help teach a class? Surely there were far more outspoken and eloquent designers to chose from. Teaching that class ended up being a much more rewarding experience than I imagined. I remember one day after giving my students a lecture, Alan pulled me to the side to ask me if I had ever considered going into education. I was a little baffled. I laughed at him. "Me? That's funny Alan." "No, I'm serious. I can tell you would be a good teacher. It's a rare thing to find someone who can balance being able to teach a concept and at the same time detach themselves enough to not lose patience." He explained that most people fail at teaching because they don't have the ability to let things not bother them. When half a class is struggling and turns in projects that look like crap, it can be devastating to a teacher who has been trying so hard to get the concept across. He saw that I never let that sort of thing bother me. I never lost patience. He told me I really needed to consider going into teaching at some point in my career. I never forgot Alan telling me that, and last year while in Kenya I taught a class of 30 children everything from science to english to social studies. It was while there that I finally understood what Alan was telling me those few years earlier. It all just clicked. I fell in love with teaching. He completely saw something in my that I didn't see in myself. I never would have imagined myself being a teacher, but he did. Because of what he made me realize about myself, I have put serious thought into returning to education at some point in my lifetime.

There are so many moments I shared with Alan Hashimoto that I will treasure forever. He had an unwavering sarcasm that few could fully appreciate. He wasn't afraid of the truth, and could call anyone out on their lack of effort. His laid back method of teaching was hard for me to adjust to. It was a needed change for someone as uptight and organized as I was however. I owe him deeply for getting me to loosen up. Alan never failed to make me smile. I could listen to that man tell stories for hours, and often times I did. I remember one time while at a student portfolio event in Salt Lake City, Alan left for a few hours to go get drinks at the bar across the street. He was on a panel of professionals and educators that were to judge student portfolios. Right before judging, he came up to have a conversation with me. We were talking about the various portfolios and comparing the different styles each school had. Then he told me he thought most of these portfolios were pieces of junk, and that the only way he makes it through those events is by getting drunk. That was the classic Alan Hashimoto that I came to love.

The best Spring Break of my college career was going on a study abroad trip to New York City with Alan. He knew I would fall in love with the city, and I did. He somehow knew the me that I hid from everyone else. He somehow saw through my walls. As graduation approached, Alan started having conversations with me about what I should do with my future. He was convinced that I needed to move to a city like L.A. He wanted me to and alway pushed for it. I think he knew that I was one of the few students who would be crazy enough to leave the safety of Utah and start fresh in a big city. He knew that, but I didn't. While I was ready to leave Utah, I was focused on Florida and a job with Disney that I had invested countless hours of commitment toward getting. When that didn't pan out, I found myself risking everything and moving to LA. It's exactly what Alan had wanted me to do. He knew I would be successful here.

I never got around to updating him on my recent move. Over and over I told myself I needed to write to him and let him know I was doing what he advised me to do years ago. I never wrote that message. I never thanked him for all he had done for me. I never told him how much he changed me by being my mentor. Perhaps I didn't need to. I can see Alan laughing at me right now for trying to give him any credit. That's just how he was.

His passion for education was unparalleled. His passion for life was even greater. He had a great understanding of people. It's hard to imagine a future visit to my old campus without a visit to see Alan Hashimoto. He was an inspiration to many, and now we honor him by passing that inspiration on to others. That's what Alan would want. He would want us to keep living a life full of energy and commitment to our passions. He would ask us to not take everything in life so seriously. Alan enjoyed life. Period. There was no false front with him. The way he projected himself was 100% Alan. He didn't hold back or cover up who he was. For me, he never gave up on his commitment and genuine concern. He wanted me to succeed not just in my profession, but in life. I considered him an excellent teacher, a wise mentor, and a dear friend.

Alan Hashimoto, my friend, you will be missed.