Musings From A "Big Picture Person"

During an unofficial exit interview a few years (and a couple of jobs) ago, I had a Very Big Podcast Personality (who was also my boss' boss' boss at the time) tell me that he wished he had realized I was such a "big picture person" before it was too late, i.e., before I quit.

This interaction is ingrained in my mind for so many reasons. Initially, I was pissed. I had pitched ideas that went nowhere. I introduced some ideas that moved forward that I never got credit for. The common denominator was that I wasn't seen or heard. No one expected me to do anything more than cut tape, so it was assumed that was all I could do. Even when I said the ideas out loud, sent them in Slacks, and drafted proposals, it was like I was speaking into an abyss.

At some point, my anger turned inward, and I didn't really know what else to do but keep my head down and do my job. But all that did was validate the assumptions that I was a three-trick pony: hard-working, amenable, controllable.

A few years after that conversation, I found myself in a similar situation. This time, I had an incredible ally who championed my ideas. So I got further, but still not all the way there. I started to gaslight myself into the belief that maybe I just had bad ideas. But after many of those pitches, maybe a few months later or even a year later, I'd come across a press release or a tweet about a similar idea that had gotten picked up elsewhere. I started to wonder if part of the issue wasn't really me or the ideas, but the environments in which I was pitching them in and the people I was pitching them to. I know rejection is a natural part of life, especially in this industry. But there were only so many times I could see my white counterparts get so much further with so much less before I started to question what was really going on. Once you have that kind of realization, it's so difficult to not just give up right there.

Sometimes I daydream about switching careers and working a job where there is less grey area. Where 1+1=2. Where there's a clear pathway from one role to the next. Where, when anything happens, there's a limited amount of possible next steps. But then I remember that I'm supposed to be a "big picture person." I still don't know if my old boss meant that as a compliment. The way it came off, it almost seemed like "big picture person" meant liability or nuisance in his mind. Or like he was saying "we like big ideas, but not your kinds of big ideas." (unsurprising spoiler: a lot of these were ideas that centered Black people).

I know by now that if I ever did actually switch careers and left creative spaces entirely for the methodical ones, I probably wouldn't get very far before I made my way back. My brain is just wired that way. Big ideas, colorful ideas, musical ideas, with nowhere to go unless I create the vessels for them myself, I guess.

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I'm now working full-time at Starglow Media, an audio company for kids and families. It's been amazing to help build a company from the ground up and be a part of creating such a welcoming environment. The timing of this job couldn't have been better as I've been pivoting to making media for kids for the last few years now.

Like many of us, I still find comfort in the shows, movies, and books of my youth. So many stories have stuck with me to this day, from the first movie that ever made me cry (Sesame Street's Follow That Bird) to the one that broke open what I thought was possible on screen (Brandy's Cinderella). When I read accounts and listen to friends who have kids now, my heart breaks at what young people are moving through today. They're being pressured to grow up too quickly in a world that isn't welcoming when they're young and doesn't get any nicer when they enter the real world.

The Chuck E. Cheese slogan "where a kid can be a kid" comes to mind and how, in reality, those spaces are dwindling. But how did we get to a point where children are so marginalized to begin with? If we think of our society as a living organism, part of what we desperately need in order to see it thrive is for kids to be supported and uplifted in their communities and beyond. If kids can't act like kids when they're still small, that behavior and those impulses will show themselves when they're adults in ways that can turn dark.

On top of that, tween culture and programming are almost nonexistent compared to the 90s and early 2000s. Corporations are realizing that they don't need to carve out a completely separate segment of people to cater to* (*sell to) when they can just make kids want what adults want. Rushing them out of their youth partly because of capitalism and partly because they can't be tolerated when they behave the way that kids are supposed to.

One of my most cherished experiences was when I worked directly with kids. All I remember is how much they just wanted to be heard and seen, a timeless youthful desire. They're just not always able to communicate that in ways that adults want to hear or have the patience for. All I want as I create media for kids is to put in the work and have the patience to make things that help them feel heard and seen.

All of this is why I wanted to create my own personal space that is Treasure Map Creative. For me, this space represents a breakthrough point for myself and my ideas as they are. I want to use this space to contemplate, collaborate, and see what kind of magic happens.

Like any "big ideas person," my interests and pursuits evolve as I go through my own transformations. I may or may not document all of that in real-time here :)