You have every right to tell me that I can’t have the job because I don’t live in a certain area.
You have every right to tell me that I can have the job if I move to a certain area.
You do not have the right to tell me that I can maybe sorta have the job if I move to the area–which is five times more expensive than where I’m living–and then work my ass off for a month for an amount well below the legal minimum wage (or roughly one-fifteenth of my freelance rates), and THEN you’ll decide whether you want to hire me or not.
You may ask, “Well, how’s that different from an internship?”
In an internship, you sign an agreement.
I will work for three months for this particular wage, and the company I’m working for is under no obligation to hire me.
You go in there with no illusions, knowing exactly what your situation is and exactly what you’re getting into.
No one’s giving you this kinda sorta bullshit.
It’s quid pro quo: I give you ideas and work, you give me something for my book and a paycheck I can live on.
In the year I’ve been out of VCU, I’ve worked at four agencies.
One of the biggest names in the business.
A promising start-up.
An established regional agency.
A local design shop.
My partner and I went to San Francisco to work at the start-up.
They were in a scheduling pinch and needed somebody to come in for a couple of weeks.
They had every opportunity to lowball us, but they didn’t.
They paid us a fair rate. They put us up in a nice hotel for our time there.
Basically, they treated us like professionals.
When we came back from SF, we worked for the established regional agency, and it was the same story.
They needed someone to help them concept.
They paid us fairly for our time, and we gave them the best ideas we could.
We gave them ideas, they gave us money.
Fair enough.
Then I went to work for one of the best agencies in the business.
I’d said from the start that I’d take an internship from only two particular agencies, and this was one of those two.
I signed the papers.
I knew there was at least a one-in-two chance that they wouldn’t offer me a full-time slot, but still I went.
I have no regrets.
I had the opportunity to work with some amazing people and live in a beautiful city, and after three months, I came home with two pieces for my book.
But every now and again, I still come across these kinds of “offers.”
Now, I realize that some people would just tell me to get over it.
That it’s part of the business.
That it’s the sort of thing I have to do if I really want to be in advertising.
Fuck.
That.
I worked 60 hours a week for the two years before Brandcenter just so I could get my debts down to the point where I could go to grad school for advertising.
Then I worked the 85-hour weeks that most BC students put themselves through for two years, sacrificing two relationships, straining lots of friendships, and nearly ruining my health on a couple of occasions.
Then I took an internship at one of the best, busiest agencies in the business, busting my ass for peanuts for three months, including nights and weekends, on nearly every brand they had.
Don’t you fucking tell me that I don’t really want to be in advertising.
Look, I don’t have a problem with trying out.
All I ask is that you pay me my freelance rate for the duration of my tryout.
So that–on the off chance that it doesn’t work out–I haven’t moved to an absurdly expensive city and worked extremely hard with nothing to show for it.
I give you ideas, you give me enough to pay for groceries, bills, and next month’s rent. Simple as that.
I’m doing some contract work right now.
I’m in my hometown with my girlfriend, surrounded by friends and family, making good scratch, doing pretty well for myself.
I’m looking, but I’m not in a hurry.
I’m hoping the right kind of place will come along.
Posted on May 12, 2011
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