So proud to see one of my readers writing! Here's some great advice from an aspiring CW on what he saw and learned at Creative Week.
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MAKING IT: THICK SKIN REQUIRED
By Bennett Bennett
Dear
ADspirants,
Creative
Week is real.
Real,
like, the ish in rap songs. The events that I’ve attended, the people
that I’ve met, the things that I can see myself doing…it’s all great. That
being said, a very large, “Thank you!” goes out to Tiffany Edwards and Chavonne
Hodges-Brown of The One Club. I helped them out on Monday’s Portfolio Reviews,
and stopped by to watch the panel discussion based off of the new advertising
book, My First Time by Phil Growick.
It’s
moments like Monday and Tuesday that made me want to change course with this
letter to you.
I
saw a lot over the past two days.
Beautiful,
eye-catching, effective ads made by students. Successful, young, hip, whimsical
creatives. When these two forces collided for the reviews, it wasn’t the best.
There were the aggressive portfolio kids, who’d take five, maybe six reviews at
a time. Then there were the ones who tried playing by the rules and succeeded
in making an impression with professionals.
Finally
– and I really hope to not end up in this category when I make my portfolio – I
saw those that suffered. Not by the physical fatigue of waiting for their
appointed time. But by the emotional drain of traveling long-distance, waiting
for hours for an agency recruiter to check out their books – traditional and
virtual – and possibly offer them an interview.
Better
still:
A
position as a copywriter, art director, designer, or on the creative team.
My
heart went out to those that had to wait until the end to have their spec ads
seen, especially since there was legitimate talent and wonderful personalities
to go with it. I hope you know, if you read this, that I want y’all to make
it.
The
industry needs that.
Keep
pushing.
In
other news, as real as the talent was, there was rejection even more
real:
The
fear, the process, and the aftermath of it.
Let
me tell you a story for each.
1).
The Ambitious Designer: She was on edge for hours.
Traditional
portfolio in a briefcase, high resolution packaging designs, speculative (fake)
ads, and other works of graphic design. We had chopped it up for a bit, and she
was legitimately scared. She had a skill set in graphic design. She was
studying graphic design at Temple’s Tyler School of Art. Sweetheart, I tell
you. She pushed her glasses up a little bit and told me that she wasn’t sure
what to expect.
Someone
had stolen her appointed time slot with a recruiter.
She
hadn’t had an appointment before then.
The
review session was almost over.
And
she was stuck with me trying to calm her down.
She
wanted to make it. Her graduation is merely weeks away. Her dreams were as vast
as the ideas in her book. One day, she’ll have her agency. Her sister was
already a copywriter, so why not chase that dream?
Her
fears were just as big.
She
didn’t know if advertising was the it in her life. She left for 20
minutes to have her portfolio reviewed, and I walked around. You could see the
optimism and frustration shuffle around the floor of Eyebeam in Chelsea. Some
were satisfied with meeting dope designers to shape their copy. Others – the
ones who felt rear-ended by the whole experienced – looked at me, spoke their
minds, and kept it moving.
That’s
me in a year.
She
came back. Proud that she got through this first review, but torn between
wanting to try another review and heading back to campus. I suggested a second
opinion. It wouldn’t hurt. Athletes do it. The kids from the Circus, the
Brandcenter, Texas Creative…they do this all the time. They’re trained
to be rejected. We all need to be. And if I felt she was good enough (and still
do – wait, my opinion shouldn’t count for anything!), so someone out there
would hopefully would see the same thing – and if not, simply deliver some
constructive criticism.
She’s
got great ideas.
All
in all, I can say this:
People
drop money to have their stuff checked out by the best of the best.
Make
it worth it.
2).
Generational Top Dogs –Everyone has a first time.
- Jimmy Smith, CEO and CCO of Amusement Park
Entertainment
- David Baldwin, Lead Guitar at Baldwin&
- Greg DiNoto, CCO at Deutsch
- Ted Royer, ECD at Droga5
- Rob Rasmussen, CCO at Tribal DDB
They
started at our level. They made it. And they maintained it – to the point that
they now run it.
Each
of these “mad men” spoke on their first ads, failures, successes, and lessons
learned.
Most
of these men started out in the late 70s or early 80s. Who knows rejection
better than they do? For example, Jimmy Smith, one of the top black executives
in the industry, recounted his first job at Burrell – and his journey to get
his commercial for McDonalds aired. Leo Burnett got wind of it, and criticized
it for being targeted for a general audience. When asked how they could make it
“black”, he replied:
“A
black man wrote the ad.”
Amid
the laughter in the crowd, there was that uneasy feeling in my gut: Is it
still difficult for blacks, not only as consumers, but as professionals in the
industry?
On
rejecting others, Ted Royer recounted his travel to Miami Ad School to teach
for a week. He ripped a hole in one student’s work, only to get a call from her
once he returned.
“I’ll
prove you wrong!” was her reaction.
Turns
out, she’s a respected associate creative director now.
Two
notes to take into consideration:
David
Baldwin admitting that if younger him was trying to make it today, it’d be
difficult with all the portfolios out there. DiNoto and Smith chimed in that
portfolio school books tend to end up cookie-cutter.
Smith
added:
“I
never graduated college. I was a few credits short.”
Didn’t
stop him from making impact.
“Non-portfolio
students have that advantage of not being drawn into making what everyone else
makes.”
Pros
and cons, pros and cons.
3).
The Teammate –I’m not the only writer that I know
that wants to make it.
A
classmate – a good buddy of mine and a truly prolific wordsmith – told me that
she admires my drive.
I
laughed it off.
“I’m
not there yet.”
“But
you know what you want. All I wanna do is write.”
“And
that’s not what I wanna do?”
“True,”
she said. She sat up on the maroon and pine couch that we sat on. “But you have
that plan. You know what you want to do and you’re going out to do it.”
“But
I’m not there yet.”
It’s
that truth that has me writing to you. All of you. We’re not portfolio kids.
We’d just been telling stories for years. She’d been surrounded by customers
who work in the industry, but didn’t know how to work up enough chutzpah to
talk to them. I came off as friendly – approachable, even – knowing enough of
how to handle myself.
Mind
you, I have no phone – and limited access to social media.
Sidenote:
I
apologize for missing your texts.
I’m
here, though, aren’t I? And my struggle is hers. And the shared struggle of my
classmates’, and those non-portfolio kids (I need a fancier name for them, by
the way). We have jobs, families, struggles, and fears that we won’t make it
because we don’t have that edge.
Guess
what?
We
do have an edge.
We
have our stories – not just the written ones that my classmate and I pour out
on Tumblr. We’ve been students of the game from the first time the news went to
commercial, the first time we turned the page to a high-concept fashion
ad.
We
breathe it.
No,
better:
We
drown in it.
And
our goal is to be life rafts for society.
No,
not even:
We
wanna sell life rafts to society.
Make
them “have it their way”.
Make
them feel as smart, as informed, and as savvy as we want them to be.
First,
we have to get over our fears – and do what it takes while keeping what it is
that makes us great. I’m not the best out there, but my ambition may get me far
enough to get people at events to remember my name.
Then
again, my name just sticks out.
But
I want it.
And
I’m willing to do what it takes.
You
need to as well.
Rejection
will come – and the pain that comes with it is inevitable. It’s up to us to
shake it all off and keep moving.
I’ll
end it with this quote by one William Bernbach:
“The
men who are going to be in business tomorrow are the men who understand that the
future, as always, belongs to the brave.”
Let’s
make it happen.
