Vol. 3, Issue 6: How Can I Help?
In this newsletter that’s nominally about advertising, media, TV, etc., I’ve written a lot about my son and his worldview.
This is an homage* to my daughter, who is now nearly 15 and gradually becoming a fully formed human, and a short missive about how we can help each other.
*If you pronounce this word “HOMage", I don’t blame you, but I say it “OH-mahge” because FANCY
When she was little and we lived in Manhattan and we walked her to school. Those walks were always fun and a little weird, because when I say she talked the entire way, I’m not exaggerating*. She’d start somewhere (“Dad, you know about Shopkins, right?”) and then wind up who knows where (“That’s why I don’t like Jason Segal**”). She’s got the gift of gab, my kid.
*Even now. Last night, she was telling me about a TV show she finished watching and her summary of the show may have been longer than the show itself - and not linear, either. I feel like I need to watch the show now just to figure out what she was talking about.
**She’s always been pretty precocious
When she was in kindergarten, they had a program at the school where a 5th grader (if you wanted to and you were selected to) would walk the kindergarteners into the school and to their class. Every day, we’d show up and she’d wait outside for Anna.*. She wouldn’t go in unless Anna walked her in. To her credit, Anna was game for it and every day she’d walk my daughter into the school, holding her hand and letting her talk her ear off. When the school auction came around and a day with Anna for ice cream and games was one of the items, we stalked the item and outbid everyone, so she could spend the day with Anna. Of course, Anna left the school after the year to go to middle school, the summer came, and 1st graders have to walk in by themselves anyway, so Anna went her way and we went ours.
*It occurs to me as I’m writing this that Anna, who is 6 years older than my daughter, is now a rising senior in college
The reason that I’m writing this now is that my daughter is now an "Anna” - she works as a counselor in training for a day camp and every day, I walk her to the bus in the morning* and every morning, a little girl named Clara waits for her so they can get on the bus together. My kid is Clara’s “Anna”. If you know me, you know I’m an emotional guy in general, but I can’t tell you how much I love watching that moment every morning. It’s the little joy that pushes me through the day every day.
*Not because she needs it, because I do
OK, so the usual question: why are you telling me this? And the usual answer, I’m not sure I know. I was walking home this morning and I told myself that I needed to get this down before I forgot it.
It’s been a rough week in our industry. As I posted on LinkedIn yesterday, I’ve gotten a lot of messages over the last few days from people letting me know that they’d been let go from their position and to keep them in mind if I hear of anything that may be good for them. As I also said in that post, it’s very humbling to me that I’m on people’s lists to notify and ask for help. I also get the sense that the big swaths of people who were let go this week in advertising and media are not going to be the last ones to be let go from their jobs this summer. There’s massive pressure on margins and unfortunately, operating cost is the first to go.
I think we’re hardwired to be too proud to ask for help. I think we think it shows weakness and that we need to be strong - whether that’s actually an evolutionary thing or a societal thing is a little beyond my ken. But I’m here to say - like thousands of others - that asking for help is actually a sign of strength. There’s no shame in admitting you don’t know something or can’t do it alone.
Our industry is a village - it’s a large village*, but a village nonetheless.
*I will say that for the amount of actual people in this village (which is a lot), at times it seems remarkably small. That may just be a function of where I live and what I do, but it is a small world after all
So I’m saying it again: how can I help? Can I introduce you to someone? Do I know the hiring manager of a job that looks just right for you and your skill set? Or maybe you want to get into a new career and I know someone in or something about that field? Whatever it is, don’t be too proud. We’re here to help.
Here’s where I’ll finish this part: we tend to think of being laid off as something that we did wrong. I did. Why me? If I’d just done my job a little better, they would have picked someone else. It’s simply not true. The economics of big layoffs have very little to do with the people and everything to do with cost cutting. Take the time to go through the 5 stages of grief, but when you get to acceptance realize that it’s not about you.
You have value.
So when you pick yourself up and dust yourself off and embark on whatever your next step is, feel free to do this and be a resource for some other person. That village thing works both ways.
I took my kid over to the bus this morning and sure enough, Clara was waiting there. I so clearly remember when my daughter was Clara’s age; when she talked aimlessly and endlessly about everything that came into her field of view. When she invented a game called “snoccer”*. When she didn’t have an entire life that was on her phone. I’m thankful that she’s still inclined to share with us, but there is, I’m sure, a part of her that just belongs to her and her friends. That’s how it’s supposed to be. The world isn’t mine anymore. It belongs to her now.
* “Snoccer was when she took a chunk of snow from the sidewalk and kicked it until it either went in the street or got too small to kick anymore
Clara’s mom said to my daughter, “Clara wanted you to meet her brother and sister”, so my kid went over to her toddler sister and infant brother and Clara smiled big when she showed her brother and sister off. But it was time to get on the bus, so my daughter took Clara’s hand and they got on the bus together. The doors closed and away they went to take on another day.
I don’t always stay to watch the bus pull away, but for some reason, today I did. I looked over at Clara’s parents, who I’m sure are thinking all of the things that I thought when I watched my daughter walk into the school building all those years ago*. But those thoughts are fleeting - they disappear the minute you remember you have a zillion other things to do before they come back - so her parents moved along pretty quickly. So did I. After all, I had to come back and write this. The world spins madly on and so forth.
*George Harrison, Somewhere in England, 1981
I don’t have a good way to end this, so I’ll stop here
I’m obviously terrible at getting this out weekly, but I will say if you’d like to write one of these (or be a part of one co-written with me or interviewed or something), please reach out!
Also, not to hammer this home too hard, but here’s some resources if you’re job hunting (I’d only urge you to minimally qualified for the given if reaching out to me directly):
Beeler.tech - Rob and Melissa have created a beautiful community of jobs available and job seekers
OpenX - we’ve got a few jobs posted
DirecTV - Rose McGovern was kind enough to call out in the comments of my LinkedIn post that she’s got a couple of jobs available on her team
That’s all for this week. Until next time, friends.