Dear Outsider,

Working in the creative industry is the only thing I’ve ever known. And to be honest, I thought I would have left the industry a long time ago. I never considered myself a creative person, nor rational in thought that I could string together a marketing strategy - whatever that was or is these days?

How I entered the industry was rather simple, it was either go back home to Johannesburg and live with my Mother, or stay in Cape Town and scrape enough money together to attend Ad School? This is a big risk for any brown-faced kid, anywhere.

Guess which choice I made?

To be completely honest with you Ad School was the biggest waste of money - but my goal was pretty simple. Secure a job. And that’s what I did…

I secured a bursary that secured me a great job at a great agency, which my peers were jealous of.

In theory I had an advantage over almost everyone, but I realised something quickly and slightly more uncomfortable.

I did not fit in.

I honestly had no idea about the basic functions of my role and was thrust onto one of the most difficult accounts of my entire career.

I simply could not grasp how the agency functioned or how the processes eventually led to a packaged product to Clients.

All I knew was that I was in love with creativity and original ideas that made people emotionally charged.

But it wasn’t enough to simply love immaculately executed ideas - I just didn’t belong there.

What’s funny to me now, is that I still managed to outlast my peers (with their positive outlook and intense excitement for yacht season).

For a long time I really questioned whether I could cut it in an agency (I still do) - did I have the temperament, probably not, but if you were my direct line manager (you know who you are), you knew full well that I didn’t have what it takes.

Socialising with colleagues was so difficult and mildly painful - we just couldn’t relate to each other.

Participating in meetings was agonising - it was as if I was speaking a foreign language.

Everything I thought was interesting, helpful or valuable, was met with blank stares - you know that look you give your junior when they overshare another unhinged brain fart from the depths of their marketing textbook.

I always feared I would die there (so dramatic), but what I mean is that I would never made a valuable contribution to any piece of work, ever.

But then something changed, the most pointless, underwhelming project I led, won something gold.

And for a second, I felt like I was part of something - the long nights, early mornings and stress was worth it, right?

Nope…

I was still an outsider and no matter how much I tried to relate or tried to communicate or tried to participate, I was never going to feel part of a culture that didn’t see the value of me.

I’ll be honest; I was (and still am) a difficult person to work with (you can ask Savannah Feeke )…and I had my problems.

But I couldn’t reconcile being a creative person, working in a creative industry and feeling like I didn’t fit in. It didn’t matter how much I changed myself or censored my words or even improved my work efficiency - I didn’t cut it.

So, I was left with no choice but to leave.

And the craziest thing happened, I still had creative pursuits and felt like a creative person.

And I wouldn't shake it off.

I worked as a writer, as a strategist in tech and media, as a project manager, a talent manager, an event planner, a creative director, a brand manager and even in content production.?I’ve literally touched every department in an agency - and yet still, I felt like an outsider everywhere I went.

No matter where I went, I burned bridges - and what I mean is that it became so glaringly obvious that I couldn’t work within the conventional lines of a business.?

I clashed with managers.?

I was a troublemaker.

I was a poor employee and unable to fulfil the task of completing a 6-month backlog in timesheets (true story).

I think after my previous stint at an agency, I came to believe that I would always be an outsider, looking in - watching my peers ’succeed’ and seeing their names on list after list after list.

Being an outsider, I knew that I had no real talent, but I could work harder than most under unfavourable circumstances, especially when no one wanted me there.

I think this is a hard realisation for an outsider; especially when you have dedicated your life to growing the creative industry through your small efforts.

And I’ve seen so many more beautiful creative people abandon their creative pursuits for much simpler living - and finding their passion in an adjacent industry.

(Side note)

I mean if you see how terribly people in this industry age, you wouldn’t waste another year staying.

(I digress)

It’s so strange that in an industry of outsiders, you’ll still find a group of people who simply don’t fit in - that’s crazy right?

We’re meant to be an industry of weirdos, pirates, artists, poets, lost kids and mermaids.

That’s the allure! That’s what keeps us (and clients) all coming back and showing up, but unfortunately not every brand of creativity is welcome here.

That has been the toughest lesson of all. In some spaces, your best ideas and thinking might not be welcome… and that is ok.

It doesn’t take anything away from you and your ability.

(Takes a deep breath of honesty)

I fortunately or unfortunately have had to take the road less travelled, filled with jumping between jobs, resentful resignations, working for years none-stop, to sometimes having no work for months, to questioning whether I am a sociopath to endure the pursuit of my own creative pursuits.

Yes, this most likely could have been a short anecdote or even a LinkedIn infographic that sticks to best practices to the platform mechanics for better engagement, but I think this is also what makes outsiders some of the best creative people out there. They don’t care about the most reasonable thing you could do or say; they leave the spaces where their best ideas go to die and actually find a way to carve out spaces where dangerous ideas and provocative thinking can feel safe.

They find a way, despite themselves.

They stick to the path when it gets difficult, and they never run out of good ideas.

Because it’s not for the awards (although we do love them), but we stick it out because we hope that one day our work moves people to feel an intense reaction.

And it’s outsiders that are more connected to that honourable pursuit than anyone.