Advertising, sexism & a pandemic: the unexpected Berlin experience
On August 26, 2020, I found myself stepping out of the elevators of China Club Berlin, self proclaimed as “one of the most exclusive clubs of Germany”, in a pink power suit and a pair of thrifted heels. The purpose? A meeting with my lawyer and the CEO of the ad agency I had recently resigned from.
As most people can probably relate to these days, I look back fondly on the summer of 2019. I was fresh out of Cannes Lions Festival with a coveted Glass Lion for Change under my belt for work I truly believed in, and the future looked bright. I received two job offers that both happened to be in Berlin my dream of moving back to Europe “some day” was now within reach. Many pros-and-cons lists later, I picked one of two near-identical job offers, packed my things and flew with my cat to Berlin for a fresh start.
Turns out, I chose the wrong offer.
On the first of November 2019, with slight nerves of using my rusty German and excitement for a new job, I entered the agency as a brand new Associate Creative Director. Besides a welcome team lunch, I sat awkwardly in a tiny office with no interaction throughout the day, leaving optimistic for a fresh start on Monday.
Monday came and an account lead grabbed me for a briefing on a project that was burning to the ground — “if we don’t send new scripts by tonight, we might lose the client”. Straight to work, I stayed at the agency until 11:30 PM.
The following weeks I worked on random projects while sort of floating through the agency without a sense of belonging. My manager, a Creative Director whom I shared the small office with was very hands-off, and never gave me one-on-one time unless it was an official check-in.
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With my digital background, the traditional teams at the agency would pull me in to “consult”, usually to have digital add-on ideas which to me was a bit old-school. On one of these first projects, the “star” team wanted me to expand on the team’s scripts for an investment app. All 3 scripts portrayed your typical “ad bros” — a gamer, a lazy dude in a sitcom and a daredevil. The only female in all of these was a woman struggling to carry her groceries.
“Is this product only for men?” I asked. “Women tend to prefer to talk to a person at a bank and not invest online,” the CD said. “No. I use an investment app. What was the brief?”
Reluctantly, the brief was pulled out only to reveal one of the personas: 24, female, looking to learn how to invest. Later on, I learned how this team would pull other creatives (mostly female juniors) to add to their ideas and take credit.
On top of my self-doubt and asking myself “what have I done”, my grandfather in Japan passed away. I had to negotiate a few days off to fly to the funeral with the person in charge of time off telling me matter of factly that grandparents are not included in bereavement days (in-laws are, by the way), while I tried to explain that grandparents are very much involved as immediate family in my culture. After a blurry weekend trip to Japan, I was relieved to receive a week off from a doctor, a major plus in the German healthcare system (more on that later).
Right before the holidays, we had the opportunity to pitch a major automotive company to be their global digital AOR and I jumped on it. Besides check-ins with the ECD, I was leading creative alongside the other disciplines. It felt like a massive undertaking, leading while simultaneously getting to know the team but for the first time in months, I felt like I knew what I was doing.
Though I was leading the creatives for the pitch, I wasn’t really involved in the decision making meetings, including who went to the clients for the presentation. At the time, I didn’t think much of it — after all, my title was ACD and I was used to people in higher positions pitching. But a few days before the deadline, I received a meeting invite from the chief strategist (a partner at the agency) to a meeting saying “design feedback” with another creative lead / partner, whom I’d never spoken to. I asked him what this was about, as this other creative had not been involved in the pitch at all. “Oh I wanted to get fresh eyes on it”, he said. This wasn’t the last time he would bring in someone random for their opinion on my work, including (male) art directors below my level.
The strategist and three others flew off to pitch, and they reported back to the team how well the meeting went, signing off with him and the other two male names, leaving out the female account lead. We successfully won the pitch and organized a team toast. The strategy lead kicked off with a speech, and the other 3 pitch attendees continued. Since there were no other creative leads besides me, I was running quickly through what I wanted to say to the team in my head when it was my turn but I never got the chance.
“Cheers everyone, well done!”. And that was that.
The pandemic hit Germany shortly after and everything became a blur: new clients, new team, new ways of working. An automotive brand during a stay-at-home mandate meant all our pitch ideas were shelved but the output demand was still high because of the always-on social model with 5 unique channels. With the clients being across the globe and no commute, I scrambled daily from 7:30 until late trying to run things smoothly with the team.
On Friday, April 27th, I received a meeting invite from HR with the CCO three minutes before the meeting was supposed to start. On the call, the CCO mentioned that because of COVID-19, our holding company was pressuring them to take certain measures. With this, they’d decided the only way to keep me was to lower my salary and demote me to Sr Art Director. Take it or leave.
In the middle of a pandemic with a travel ban in place and only a work visa to live on, I had no choice but to take the salary cut and demotion.
Shortly after the call, I got a follow up email from the CCO, randomly comparing me to BBDO NY & Greg Hahn:
Still in shock, I messaged my CD who I used to share that awkward tiny office with. He had no knowledge of the decision, and told me he was sorry. The best we could do was to set up goals to “get me back on track”.
He was technically my manager but had no idea I had been demoted. That seemed odd. The next couple meetings I had with him and the CCO were, in summary, gaslighting. They tried to set goals for me to achieve the status that was once already mine. While the reasons given to me for my demotion and salary cut were related specifically to COVID-19 and budget concerns, these sessions instead directed me to “be more creative” with certain performance milestones for me to aspire to achieve.
The following Tuesday, a courier brought over the amended one-sheet contract for me to sign on the spot. The only thing I could manage to negotiate was bringing my resignation notice down from the standard three months (!) down to two.
While this was all happening, I still had my day-to-day work responsibilities as a client facing creative and team lead. I kept a straight face and kept going while figuring out how to get out of this toxic mess. I’d wake up, get in the shower and get overwhelmed with rage on a daily basis. I’d replay the meetings with the ECD and CD, thinking what I could’ve said or done. But the outcome always the same.
Weekends were now spent scrolling through German labor law websites. Resignation calculator tools were frequently refreshed. Medical leave rules were scrutinized. I knew that based on the legal advice I’d received, my amended contract was not legally sound. They wanted me to be more creative? I decided I would do just that to get myself out of this situation.
I finally formulated a plan: Complete a shoot I was preparing at the time, resign and take the summer to rest.
“I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refuse to be reduced by it”
– Maya Angelou
These were the closing words of my brief resignation letter. Printed and signed, I left it in my office drawer at night for HR to retrieve the following day.
As I was leaving the dark office, I noticed a Instagram post: a girl I knew was claiming this very same agency stole her idea from an interview process. The post was blowing up. Perfect timing.
This serendipitous moment triggered multiple other stories about the agency: mostly sexism and nothing too shocking for the advertising world but still confirmation that I made the right decision. I’ve connected with multiple women through this experience, mostly ex-employees who dealt with sexism.
Multiple “round table” and “safe space” discussions at the agency were set up. An emergency Townhall with the CEO followed. He talked about the issues at hand how they need to be better, support women, and give more leadership roles to women. The comments were left open for comments and questions. With 200 people online, I had nothing to lose and wrote: “You talk about wanting more female leadership. In my case, unfortunately I was demoted.” The moderator read it out loud. Dozens of colleagues reacted, some PMing me. “I had no idea!” “Wtf!?” Remote working had hindered typical office rumors and gossip.
The CEO paused. “Yes I’ve heard about this… Taiyo, I am very sorry for this circumstance. This should’ve not happened.”
The public apology stung. It should’ve felt good to be acknowledged but with everything I had dealt with, it was just too late.
Shortly thereafter, I went to the doctor and received the maximum legal 6 week burnout note, which stretched through my remaining vacation days. Goodbye, agency.
I was introduced to a lawyer who offered to help anyone in the agency experiencing sexism pro-bono. I won’t go into the full legal details but in short, my amended demotion contract was in fact not legal under German labor laws. He fought for my case while the agency’s lawyer offered the bare minimum for a settlement. We pushed back. One morning in early August as I sat outside with a coffee, I got a call from my lawyer.
The CEO had personally called him to talk things over. He agreed to the amount we had asked for, throwing in a little more, and wanted a lunch meeting with me to talk through my experience.
Why the sudden interest? A featured piece on sexism at the agency had been published the day before, exposing the things that had been pushed aside for so long. Even if it was pure damage control, I accepted the offer to share my perspective later that month. The meeting itself was awkward, but I took the opportunity to not only speak up for myself but for the women at the agency. For all the international colleagues who didn’t fit in. For everyone who were dismissed or worse, not ever noticed, for their talents.
After 10 years of working in advertising, this wasn’t how I imagined things would go. I took a good long break and recently went client side as part of an in-house creative studio. I’m slowly unlearning the habits that have been hammered into me from agency life and genuinely appreciating the warmth and openness of my new colleagues. Would I go back? I won’t rule it out but it would be a tough vetting process before I do.
Quitting a job during a pandemic seemed reckless at first but it freed up so much of my brain from constant anger and anxiety. Advertising agencies can be intense, but there’s a difference between tough and bullying, or worse. My advice to anyone in a similar situation: save as much as you can. Ask for help and advice. Speak up for yourself and others. You just might end up saying the thing to make an agency take a good hard (and much needed) look at themselves. Things may feel impossible but you will get through this.
(Disclaimer: I am writing this as my experience, but do not intend to point fingers at individuals who were involved.)
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