Many years ago, I wrote a training guide called, How to ask questions without being a bitch.
It happened because a junior account service colleague at Wieden didn’t know how to get clients to acknowledge her and the questions she had.
This was not because she wasn’t good, but because of gender stereotypes.
Well recently, I had a similar experience, except this time it was a brilliant strategist that a mutual friend of ours had introduced me to.
In my time in LA, I’ve met a whole host of strategists and – as I wrote a while back – many have left me feeling indifferent.
But not this person.
She was more than one of the good ones, she was one of the best.
Sharp as hell.
Unique – yet well thought out – perspectives.
A genuine love of being creative in interesting ways.
Anyway, as we were talking, I said I’d be really interested in hearing – or reading – her perspective on the future of storytelling. For some reason, she said yes and a few weeks I received a great paper with a great perspective.
Except there was one thing I didn’t like.
“The surprising part of this was the fact that my mentor, a white man, erudite and well-known in his profession, cared about my opinion. To give you some background – I’m in my 30s, a mixed bag of races, city kid, raised by a single mom type through and through. I’m a decade into my career and this was the first time I was asked to share my perspective by someone that, for all intents and purposes, matters.”
I hate it.
I hate that this was the first time she felt she was asked for her opinion.
I hate it for the shit she has obviously had to put up with in her life.
I hate the baggage that has weighed her down.
I hate the low expectations she had been forced to endure.
I hate the bosses she’s had that have told her to follow orders rather than encourage her to find her own voice.
And while she finished her paper with a resolve to not let this shit quieten her ever again, I’m still angry that a great talent has had to put up with shit designed to keep her down rather than lift her up, which is why I ask her – and any other planner who relates to this situation – to embrace my paraphrasing of the advice comedian Michelle Wolf received when she was about to take the stage at the White House Correspondence’s dinner, at the top of this page.
Burn it all down.