The Best Lesson I Learned in Advertising Started Because I Couldn’t See the Blackboard

Lessons in Listening

Long before I became an art director, I learned how to listen. I could not always see the board clearly, so I paid closer attention to tone, intent and what was not being said. Years later, I realized that the same skill mattered in a conference room.

That became my own creative acronym: 

LEAD — Listen before you Execute. Analyze before you Direct.

Because good creative direction does not begin with giving orders. It begins with understanding the problem.

As a child, I was incredibly shy. I always chose a seat in the back of the room where I hoped no one would notice me. There was just one problem.

I couldn’t see the blackboard.

The funny part is that I didn’t know I needed glasses. I simply assumed everyone else could see what I saw. So while my classmates copied notes from the board, I learned to survive another way.

I listened.

Really listened.

Since I couldn’t rely on my eyes, I paid close attention to every word the teacher said. I listened for emphasis. I listened for clues about what was important. I learned to organize information in my head before I wrote it down.

At the time, I had no idea I was developing a skill that would eventually shape my entire career.

The License Plate That Changed Everything

It wasn’t until I was about fourteen or fifteen that my parents discovered I couldn’t see very well.

My family was competitive. Really competitive.

One day we were driving, playing the license plate game. My dad noticed I was taking much longer than everyone else to read the plates.

“You can’t see that license plate, can you?” he asked.

I insisted I could.

So my dad—being my dad—started driving closer.

My mother was immediately protesting while my father kept saying, “Tell me when you can read it.”

Closer.

“Now?”

Closer.

“Now?”

Eventually we were close enough that I could finally make it out.

That trip ended with an appointment to the eye doctor.

Looking back, I laugh about it now. My mother probably thought my father had lost his mind.

But that day explained something that had been happening for years.

Listening Became My Superpower

Years later, when I became an Art Director and eventually a Creative Director, I noticed something.

The best ideas rarely came from the creative brief.

They came from conversations.

Clients would tell you they needed a new brochure.

Or a new logo.

Or a better website.

But if you listened carefully, you realized those weren’t the real problems.

Sometimes you could hear it in the hesitation before they answered.

Sometimes it was the excitement in their voice when they talked about a customer.

Sometimes they would casually tell a story completely unrelated to the project.

Buried inside that story was the answer.

The assignment wasn’t to make a prettier brochure.

The assignment was to help them feel proud of their company again.

Or to help donors understand their mission.

Or to help parents feel connected to their school’s community.

The solution was almost never hidden in the words.

It was hidden in what the words meant.

I Always Give the Client Credit

One lesson I’ve always tried to teach people who work with me is this:

When you discover the solution because of something a client said…

Tell them.

I’ll often say something like:

“When you mentioned your volunteers…”

or

“The story you told about your residents made me think…”

or

“Something you said during our meeting sparked this idea.”

And it’s true.

Creative people sometimes act like ideas appear out of thin air.

I don’t believe that.

Great ideas usually come from listening well enough to recognize what someone else is trying to tell you—even when they don’t realize they’re saying it.

Giving clients credit doesn’t diminish your creativity.

It builds trust.

It lets them know they were part of creating the solution.

My Dad Was Right

My father used to help me with math homework.

He wasn’t interested in whether I simply got the right answer.

He wanted to know how I got there.

I’d explain my long, winding process, and he’d smile.

“You got the right answer,” he’d say.

“But you sure went around the long way.”

He was right.

I’ve always taken the scenic route.

I taught myself software by experimenting instead of following manuals.

I’ve taken apart computers instead of paying someone else to upgrade them.

I’ve solved design problems in ways that sometimes even instructors hadn’t considered.

I’ve never been very interested in the “correct” way to do something.

I’ve always been interested in finding a way.

Maybe that’s because years ago, sitting quietly in the back of a classroom, I learned that when one path isn’t available…

You find another.

Ironically, the thing I thought was holding me back—needing glasses I didn’t know I needed—may have given me one of the greatest gifts of my career.

It taught me that before you can solve someone’s problem…

You have to truly listen in order to LEAD.