Why We Made Our Agency a Safe Space for Odd Ducks
The quirkier, the better
Our accountant was raised by wolves.
Well, not really raised by wolves. But he does raise and rehabilitate packs of wild wolves on his ranch in a remote territory of Colorado. While that may not sound like an important feature for someone who spends the majority of their waking hours punching calculators and organizing spreadsheets, I assure you, it is.
It’s no accident that this type of person found the field of advertising. In no other industry does the beautiful collision of personal identity and life experience matter more. Because humans from unique backgrounds have the uncanny ability to connect with other humans from unique backgrounds. They digest information differently, analyze problems from different vantage points and can offer a form of cultural commiseration that others cannot.
In a business model built on the expertise of providing genuine perspective, it is essential that agencies ensure that each team member brings more to the table than just college degrees, portfolio school formulas and an affinity for marketing buzzwords.
Street-level knowledge and life experience run far deeper than the stringent policies of the corporate machine. Which is why, in an industry largely touting black belts in the ancient practice of Bullshittery™, agencies should be placing more emphasis on mining insights from the minds of their own people.
At a small agency like Colossus, for example, we believe that it’s imperative to surround ourselves with as many perspectives as possible. Take Penelope De La Rosa, a young account coordinator on our team. Before joining Colossus, she starred alongside Denzel Washington in The Equalizer 2 and as Lorena on Showtime’s SMILF. Despite being brand new to agency life, her experience as an actor has given her the confidence to command a room with the poise of someone far more experienced.
Our GM of design, Allison Waters Doherty, is another case study of this approach in action. On the side, Allison runs a high-end, concierge-level beekeeping business. In the agency world, Allison is known as a collaborative force, adept at taming clashing opinions and complex problems through simple and organized solutions. Her hive-mind approach to problem solving is remarkable to watch.
Even our IT department fits this description. These unspoken warriors of the code aren’t typically highlighted in such articles, but allow us to introduce one Mr. Jim Smentowski. Not only is Jim an IT specialist, but he is also a former team captain from the TV show, Battlebots (yes, really). Before piloting his infamous, heavyweight robot Nightmare to numerous victories, Jim worked at Industrial Light & Magic. And now, he’s the guy we complain to when “this f#cking thing doesn’t work.” Network hiccups and Creative Cloud crashes are small potatoes for a man who spends his free time in the ring alongside ax-wielding automatons.
Culture makes the work great. And to harness culture, you have to invite it in with open arms, build it a cozy nest and let it take up residence organically. It cannot be forced, but it should be welcomed.
All that said, it’s not just our past lives that matter. Diversity in life experience, socio-economic background, geographic location, gender identity, race and religion all add to our ability to authentically communicate with our audience. Which may explain why we’ve been a magnet for such a wonderfully diverse, eclectic group of talented humans.
While Colossus is an agency of just 30 people, we are the home to a former standup comedian, professional boxer, birthday party clown, graphic novelist, dumpster diver and licensed mushroom forager. And in an act of total happenstance, a quarter of our team are first-generation Americans—with their parents migrating to the U.S. from Portugal, Thailand, Ukraine, Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Puerto Rico and Guatemala.
In a recent interview with a potential junior creative, I asked the candidate to tell me about his life before and outside of advertising. “I’ve always wanted to work for an ad agency, even when I was little,” he replied. “I’ve never done much else.” The frown on my face must have revealed my disdain for that answer. After further conversation and some gentle prodding, he disclosed that he “also makes elaborate ball gowns for drag queens. Mostly out of pool noodles.”
“Bingo,” I replied.