That’s a strategy – By @Holly_Georgious
By Holly Georgious
That’s a strategy
It was an up and down week. Down, ideas being copied, workload building up and having to pull scraps together to make a below par book with someone who I have, as of yet, done no work with. Up, winning best campaign in the category, having a shout out from a mentor for said work and finding out a client used your idea and won a pitch with it.
On paper it may seem that the highs were very high, big enough to counteract the lows, and that the lows were not all that low, just a bad day that can be fixed. But the truth is that that’s just not true, not for me anyway. There are people, many people, most as a matter of fact, who would have – if they were in my position – felt they ended their week on a high, who would’ve been proud of what they had achieved, who’d have gone down to the pub to celebrate. But not me. I was happy sure, proud, maybe slightly, but it was faint, short lived. Because you see, I have learnt that just because your idea is good or liked does not make it all that good at all. It doesn’t make it anything really. Good is not good enough. Good is not great. Good is the enemy of great. It is boring. And great; great is the only thing you should be proud of. Great is the only thing that is truly good enough.
I wasn’t upset that my work was not great, not really. Greatness takes time, it takes patience and graft. It is not something that happens overnight, nor is it something that occurs suddenly. It is delicate, temperamental, with the potential to die at every turn. No what got me, what really got me, was the undeniable sinking feeling that I wasn’t doing myself justice, not when it came to the strategy, and in all honesty I’m not sure I have in a while.
I’m good at strategy. I enjoy it and when I put some thought and time in to it I don’t find it all that difficult either. I look forward to masterclasses every Friday, to the opportunity to learn more, to think more, to test myself. They are interesting and funny (which is probably down more to the teacher than the subject) and they give me confidence, not least in myself.
But lately I have been letting myself down and worse than that I have been letting Uri down. For those who don’t know (and they are probably few) Uri is our strategy mentor. He is intelligent (obviously), funny and he cares. He cares about us and how well we do, whether it be because it is a reflection of his teaching, or more generally because he wants us to do well. And he, I think, believes in me in a way that I haven’t believed in myself recently.
Earlier in the year I was doing well, putting strategy in to my work and despite the executions not being the shiniest in the class. He had complemented me a couple of times on my work. But recently I haven’t been giving it the time or attention it needs. I have run out of time, not put my foot down enough, or gone along with a different idea. Whatever way you spin it, whatever reason you give it all comes down to one thing, I didn’t stand up for it more.
In a world where we all want to be the most creative creative, where we want to stand out, where we are tempted to jump from idea to idea instead of focusing of the elements or bones. I didn’t stand up for it more, shout for it more, stand by it. The truth is I always knew when the strategy was wrong, or route didn’t fit. I felt it. Deep down I felt it but I ignored the feeling.
There are few feelings worse than ignoring something you know is right, and I am not going to do it anymore. I am giving strategy the pillar it deserves, the time it deserves. I will work it in to every plan, and follow it through every story. I want to prove I am better than my latest work, prove I am as good as I know I can be. Prove that he was not wrong about me. Because I can, because I want to and in his words because I’m ‘to intelligent not to’