A funky, funky Christmas
Later that year I attended that company’s office party—a formal, black-tie optional affair: women in nice dresses, guys in nice suits… even a tuxedo or two rolled thru. But me being me I came in the door dipped head-to-toe in chocolate suede Parasuco. Showed a black silky Jordan 23 shirt with the stupid little Jumpman logo for the formal touch. I was Mr. Chocolate Chip in the cookie dough.
“Tim,” one of our VPs caught me after a few drinks and said he was glad I showed up because I really “added some color to the scene.” Of the 100 plus folks there I was one of maybe 4 blacks. Over a couple drinks we talked about the company’s lack of diversity and how it was a problem throughout the industry. But all we did was talk. We both knew he wasn’t about to hire anyone of color anytime soon.
Sideline activism’s hilarious. We’ll rock our colored ribbons and our pro-cause t-shirts. We do the charity events and photo-ops. We’ll talk big game like James Worthy criticizing easy targets and then pat ourselves on the back like we’ve really changed something. But as for taking real action, Flav said it best: I can’t do nothin’ for you man, I’m busy trying to do for me.
My Girl Friday
In 1999, I sent “Friday,” an editor at Adweek magazine, an op-ed piece I’d written on the lack of diversity in the ad business. Friday responded that she couldn’t run my piece because the magazine had just pressed-up a “minorities in business” issue. “Thanks, but we’ve already covered this topic.” was how her handwritten letter read.
Still, I eagerly checked out the issue she referred me to. I was excited to know that someone with influence was willing to discuss this. And sure enough, there it was: a big “special edition” snipe across a cover filled with minority-flavored lead-ins. But as I thumbed thru the issue, I saw—and I couldn’t make this up if I tried—page after page of white women of varying hair colors, ages, and backgrounds. There were salutes and profiles of innovation and excellence in the face of struggle… There were also white professionals from Europe, London, Greece, and France, etc. They squeezed in a couple stories on Asian professionals plus a condescendingly small nod to Hispanic consumers. But no Blacks. No stories on Black companies, Black consumers or Black professionals. Not one word. Nothing. Not even a black and white photo. It read like an issue of Martha Stewart’s Living.
I promptly sent her a sarcastic follow-up note. Since February was approaching I facetiously suggested that she profile Spike Lee or review a Michael Jordan commercial. While I never heard back, during Black History Month they did run a couple stories on Black athletes and singers in marketing campaigns. In Friday’s mind “minority” really seemed to mean blonde, brunette, redhead, and pale faces with foreign accents.
In mid-2003 Adweek ran a multi-page insert covering a huge forum of black business professionals discussing the role of hip-hop and urban culture on marketing and business. My gut screamed “progress,” until I noticed the words “Special Advertising Insert” atop each page. It was an advertorial or paid insert.
As of June 2005, Friday is the mag’s national editor. And admittedly, their coverage has gotten more inclusive. In fact, in late 2004 they launched a new magazine dedicated to minority consumers and industry professionals called Marketing Y Medios—for the Hispanic market. (Como se dice, “still at the back of the bus” en español?)
“Tim,” one of our VPs caught me after a few drinks and said he was glad I showed up because I really “added some color to the scene.” Of the 100 plus folks there I was one of maybe 4 blacks. Over a couple drinks we talked about the company’s lack of diversity and how it was a problem throughout the industry. But all we did was talk. We both knew he wasn’t about to hire anyone of color anytime soon.
Sideline activism’s hilarious. We’ll rock our colored ribbons and our pro-cause t-shirts. We do the charity events and photo-ops. We’ll talk big game like James Worthy criticizing easy targets and then pat ourselves on the back like we’ve really changed something. But as for taking real action, Flav said it best: I can’t do nothin’ for you man, I’m busy trying to do for me.
In 1999, I sent “Friday,” an editor at Adweek magazine, an op-ed piece I’d written on the lack of diversity in the ad business. Friday responded that she couldn’t run my piece because the magazine had just pressed-up a “minorities in business” issue. “Thanks, but we’ve already covered this topic.” was how her handwritten letter read.
Still, I eagerly checked out the issue she referred me to. I was excited to know that someone with influence was willing to discuss this. And sure enough, there it was: a big “special edition” snipe across a cover filled with minority-flavored lead-ins. But as I thumbed thru the issue, I saw—and I couldn’t make this up if I tried—page after page of white women of varying hair colors, ages, and backgrounds. There were salutes and profiles of innovation and excellence in the face of struggle… There were also white professionals from Europe, London, Greece, and France, etc. They squeezed in a couple stories on Asian professionals plus a condescendingly small nod to Hispanic consumers. But no Blacks. No stories on Black companies, Black consumers or Black professionals. Not one word. Nothing. Not even a black and white photo. It read like an issue of Martha Stewart’s Living.
I promptly sent her a sarcastic follow-up note. Since February was approaching I facetiously suggested that she profile Spike Lee or review a Michael Jordan commercial. While I never heard back, during Black History Month they did run a couple stories on Black athletes and singers in marketing campaigns. In Friday’s mind “minority” really seemed to mean blonde, brunette, redhead, and pale faces with foreign accents.
In mid-2003 Adweek ran a multi-page insert covering a huge forum of black business professionals discussing the role of hip-hop and urban culture on marketing and business. My gut screamed “progress,” until I noticed the words “Special Advertising Insert” atop each page. It was an advertorial or paid insert.
As of June 2005, Friday is the mag’s national editor. And admittedly, their coverage has gotten more inclusive. In fact, in late 2004 they launched a new magazine dedicated to minority consumers and industry professionals called Marketing Y Medios—for the Hispanic market. (Como se dice, “still at the back of the bus” en español?)
