Outside the Shoe Box

Let me just state the obvious. I’m a control freak. And in my job, I’m a CREATIVE control freak. In all of my past positions, it’s been my tendency to erase all creative traces of my predecessor and start over with my newer, better work. After all, who could live up to MY unrelenting standards? Certainly not the person I replaced, of course! (I hope you know I’m being sarcastic in all of this ... except I really am a control freak.)

Frustration has always come easily to me. Lately, it’s been taking up residence at my desk. Here’s the situation. My predecessor designed a brochure that, in my humble opinion, is just sooooooo 10 years ago. One of my first tasks on the job was to finish making edits to the brochure and send it to print. Being the perfectionist that I am, I spent hours trying to “fix” it because I knew I had to, even though I considered it a monstrosity that should be completely scrapped and started fresh. Alas, I remorsefully added my small touches to the piece, resisting the temptation to do a full-scale redesign. I sent it to the printer and considered it done. Now, I can start fresh, I thought.

Silly me. I recently turned in a design for another project, a tri-fold brochure. I was fairly proud of it, thinking to myself, “See how much better this looks than that ugly old thing? See what a good designer I am?’’ Shortly after, it was returned to me, unmarked, with the request, “Make it look like the other brochure so we can carry out the ‘theme.’” (Read: Spread the ugly design across multiple other pieces I won’t be caught dead with in my portfolio, and thus, give me nothing in my first year on the job to showcase my creative abilities.)

Cue pouty face.

It’s not like I haven’t encountered situations like this in the past, but it’s just that it’s been a while. I wasn’t fully prepared for the resentment that would well up inside. And it’s not like the person asking me to do this is wrong, in fact, they’re completely right. It should match the theme, regardless of how hideous it may be. And furthermore, it’s not my decision, but it is my job to make it happen.

If only you could show your portfolio to future employers with footnotes.

• - “My boss made me add this, even I thought it looked terrible.”
• - “This piece would have been much better had I been given free creative reign.”
• - “I had to use this photo because of the space constraints but there were much better ones, trust me!”

And my favorite:

• - “You should have seen my original draft.”

The artist in me wants to prove that I knew better, but was unjustly forced to do otherwise. The martyred graphic designer, forced to carry out someone else’s wishes, shackled and chained by the bad taste and ignorance of the my-nephew-has-Microsoft-Publisher-and-designs-flyers-for-his-boyscout-troop-so-I-know-good-design superior … Oh, woe is me!

Sigh.

Sometimes I get so wrapped up with creating something “show-worthy” that I forget I’m not the boss. Someone else is. Isn’t that what being an employee is about? Someone else makes the decisions, you make them happen, and you get paid. Seems simple enough. Even in my freelance work, I may be in charge of my company, but the client is still the ultimate boss. If I can’t make them happy, I won’t get paid, nor will I get referrals. I don’t have a problem accepting this principle in freelance work, so why is it so much more of a struggle to suppress my start-a-revolution voice in my real job?

Recently I ordered some shoes online. They arrived in their tidy little shoe box inside, packed neatly inside another large shipping box. It makes me realize that being a creative professional for profit means you have to think differently than you would if you were an artist. As an artist, anything goes, but as a paid creative professional, that's usually not the case. Artists can think outside the box to limitless degrees, creating works of art that may one day be purchased by someone who appreciates the piece for its artistic value.

But as a creative professional, you must approach the situation a bit differently. Think outside THIS box, but inside THAT box. And that’s just how it works. If you really want to have full creative control, you should be an artist, but I hope you like pork and beans because so few are appreciated (financially) for their work. That's not to say you can't still create some really great work, but you just have to keep an open mind, knowing that changes inevitably will be made that you might not agree with.

So, my message to my inner artist: Suck it up and move on. You design to get paid … by someone else who has the final say. Welcome to the real world. Deal with it.
 
And that, my friends, is easier said than done. But I’m working on it.

Getting Real About Goals

I have some amazing friends with amazing careers. Among them:

• Assistant professor at a Big 12 university
• Former press secretary for a senator and aircraft manufacturer communications professional
• Former communications staffer for a national livestock organization
• Waterpark marketing director
• The Chicago lawyer, recruiter, financial analyst and CPA (4 family members)
• Small business owners
• Master's of theology students
• Vegas event and wedding planner

Of course, this is just a short list, as I could go on and on and on and ... But wow. These folks are not only fantastic people, but they're very accomplished professionals.

Even though I love them all so much and I'm extremely proud of all that they have achieved, it's easy to let myself become intimidated by their greatness. After all, I've barely strayed an hour from my hometown -- especially in comparison to these folks. During my job hunt, I became even more painfully aware that my decision to enjoy the perks of a more rural and small-town life has definitely been at the expense of far more limited career choices. It's been quite a challenge to sift through the available positions for ones that even slightly match up with my goals. I'm lucky to have finally found one.

Living here was a decision Cody and I made together, and we're usually quite confident that we're in the right place. But sometimes it's hard to deal with the emotions I experience when I hear about the wonderful things my friends are doing. I used to think it was jealousy, but when I consider how much I love these people, I know that's not the case. It's more like a yearning to achieve my own goals, maybe even an inspiration ... I so easily forget that they can be accomplished right here, right now.

It's been so tempting to identify success as having an important-sounding title and living in some kind of exciting location. I've often fretted about not being as "successful" as my friends and peers, simply because I'm in normal old Manhattan and I haven't felt that my positions were all that important. I know that's totally untrue, but sometimes these thoughts just invade my mind and I can't shake them. I throw myself a little pity party. Which gets me where? Nowhere.

It's a real task to remind myself that these were my choices, and the choices my friends have made are theirs. By choosing to stay in one location, I made the decision to narrow my choices from the whole wide world of careers. After all, if a fancy title in a fun city was what I felt was truly important in life, I could definitely make that happen. But what little wisdom I do have tells me that even though it's enticing, it won't bring me true happiness.

Even though I mope sometimes, I have friends who would kill to be in my shoes -- working on campus, living in the beautiful hills outside of Manhattan, close to family and home, married to a wonderful man with the most infectious sense of humor, two wonderful dogs, the list goes on and on. Man, I've sure got it good. I'm so thankful for that when I can actually clear my head to soak it all in.

I think what it really comes down to is not being very clear about my goals -- because in all actuality, I've achieved so many of them so far. They may be a little different than I envisioned when I graduated from K-State, as there have been plenty of detours and potholes along the way. But there's a huge lesson of balance to be learned here. I haven't mastered it, but I'm working on it.

I don't need to get a "better" job or move away to be successful. I can be successful right here, right now. Sometimes, I recognize that I already am.

Kudos to all my friends who have pursued their dreams! I'm so incredibly proud of you and you inspire me!

P.E. and People Watching

On Saturday, we sat in the nosebleed section to cheer on the Wildcats. As a very uneventful game unfolded far below us, I engaged in one of my favorite hobbies – people watching. I silently surveyed the population, examining characters of all shapes and sizes. Sometimes I compared myself, other times I whispered comically to my husband. Sometimes I just sat in sheer awe.

In this instance, two individuals stick in my mind.

One was an obese, older woman, who festively donned a set of purple mardi gras beads over a white tank top and faux jean shorts (despite the fact that everyone else had jackets and jeans on). It would be an understatement to say that her body oozed out of the armholes in the shirt and bottom of her shorts. I watched her labor up the steps in the upper level of Bill Snyder Family Stadium, stopping about every two steps to rest in all her doughy glory.

The other individual made me supremely sad, even a bit angry. It was a young boy, maybe around age 7 or 8. He was about as round as he was tall. He, too, stopped every few steps to rest as he trekked up the stadium stairs. As he passed us in row 20, he was completely out of breath, panting as loud as Lucy, my Labrador.

What a shame! The older woman has had years to reach her current state (and should know better), while this child has become obese in just a few short years of life (and probably doesn't have a clue). Sure, it was a long way up there, but shouldn’t we all be in adequate shape to walk a short distance or climb a few stairs?

I don’t have any idea what physical education standards are today in schools, but now I’m really curious. I ran a mile and a half yesterday at the Rec, and it later occurred to me that it was the farthest I’ve EVER run. A mile was the most we ever did in P.E., and I remember having a feeling of uneasiness and wanting to hide in the locker room those days. Most days it was just a quarter-mile on the track or a few laps around the tiny old high school gym. The last time I was in P.E. was 1997. So in 13 years, has anything changed? I sure hope so.

The CDC estimates that 17 percent of kids between ages 2 and 19 are obese (2008). That’s not just “overweight,” that’s a BMI at or above the 95^th percentile for kids of the same age and gender. Yikes!  

And adults … well, we’re embarrassingly worse. According to the CDC’s 2009 data, between 26 and 27 percent of Riley County is obese. As a state, more than 28 percent of Kansans are obese, and we’re the 19^th fattest state in the nation. (Of the top 20, more than half are southern states.) In fact, one in three Americans is considered obese and another one in three is overweight. That means for every three people you meet, only one is not packing around extra pounds (CDC, 2008).

People, this is a problem. The elephant in the room is us – the 68% of Americans who are fat, or worse, blimps. And that’s being nice. I’ll write more on this later, but for now, let’s get moving!