Photography by Sam Bourne
Why bother about racism?
Something that has stuck with me throughout my working life, is that as a teenager about to leave school, when I expressed that I’d like to do something creative to a school careers advisor, she told me my best option was to become a bus conductor.
I remember feeling strong anger at the time, and I have definitely used it as a kind of mantra throughout my career, whether it was trying to get a job or winning pitches. I’ve always had a slight “I’ll show you one day love” narrative somewhere in the back of my mind. Sometimes you need to focus on the enemy to spur you on. There’s been times in my career when the stakes have been high and that’s given me the kick up the arse I’ve needed. These things all build resilience, which is integral to building a career.
Despite the advice, I’ve taken my chances in the advertising industry and I’m proud to say I’ve been responsible for some of the most famous and talked-about advertising of our era, including the You’ve Been Tango’d Orange Slap campaign and more recently Haribo Kids’ Voices, which is currently live in 12 different markets globally.
But it certainly didn’t come easy. I’ve found myself on the dole more than once, and me and my creative partner, Al Young, struggled with getting the right jobs. We didn’t quite fit in at the time, a Black guy and a wee Scotsman.
We made people feel uneasy. When we were meeting agencies, we were also trying to change our work to suit them, and it wasn’t until we started to develop work for ourselves, to evolve our own style, that we got a job at Howell Henry. I think it taught me not to be afraid of people not liking my ideas - if something is truly original, that may well divide people, and some of the most successful concepts are really polarizing.
In 1995 I set up Quiet Storm, the UK’s first agency to write, direct and produce its own work. The agency celebrates its 25th birthday in 2020, and I feel really proud that it has survived some difficult environments while always managing to keep creativity at its heart.
One racist experience I had, was when I was invited to a Police Commissioner’s dinner, through the work we had done for Create Not Hate. They sat me on a table with the only other Black person in the room - a Baroness or something. She was not impressed that we had been lumped together on the ‘Black people’s table.’ A well-known (and now extremely successful) Tory politician was the after-dinner speaker who launched into telling a load of seriously racist jokes. I’ll always remember the Baroness and I just looked at each other aghast - everyone else was laughing. When he left the stage, he turned to look me dead in the eyes with this smug, challenging look.
Along with other experiences, it quietly fed into me wanting to push for change in the industry. I’ve always been passionate about championing diversity and inclusion, and I make sure I’m constantly involved in new initiatives to support change. Having chaired the IPA’s Ethnic Diversity Forum, and set up Create Not Hate to tackle gun crime (by getting disenfranchised youths from my old community into creative projects), I was awarded an OBE in 2009 for my services to charity and advertising.
In the future, I think there’s a diversity education job to be done, and I would like to help educate senior leadership from other companies, to help them understand how people from diverse backgrounds fit in and contribute to their organisations.
Trevor Robinson OBE, Executive Creative Director and Founder of Quiet Storm
Thank you Trevor Robinson OBE for sharing your story.
He will be answering your questions posted under his article this week - a chance to speak to the great man, so do.
Nothing is going to change unless we really want it to. That’s just the way it is and always will be.
It feels like we are sent these moments every generation so that we let out some steam, followed by shame, followed by silence and then go back to how it was. Leaving a few of us still shouting: “That was our moment.”
Let’s not miss this one. We have the perfect moment. This remaining lockdown time is a great opportunity to have a think on what’s really important in life and do something about it.
Things are changing, not just in the conversations we really will need to have with each other, but also the way we work and who we want to spend time with in the future.
Talent will walk away from companies who treated them and their colleagues like shit over the past few months and beyond all this.
The good news is those who do walk away will launch or work with new slow enterprises with better purpose and work-life balance - the real-life privilege (keep your fast cars and mortgage debt - thank you!)
Companies who look after and empower their people will keep their people - no brainer really.
Most of us will also continue to work from home anywhere in the world, while collaborating with each other, just like I do, and have done for the past four and half years with my team since launching The Pitch Fanzine.
I run my brand from my dining room table, the garden, the kid’s adventure playground, on my mobile and laptop - slowly. I take most of my business meetings walking in the park. My team work from anywhere in the world they want to. They have a deadline and that’s it. They also work for other people too - freelance is the word I think they call it.
They are paid on the day of sending in their invoices, or a day or two after if I’m super busy. For larger companies, you have the tech to do whatever you want, so no excuses.
Nothing feels better than having the freedom to create.
Everyone benefits.
Eddy, my newly promoted Art Director, has travelled the world while we put Pitch magazine and The Pitch Fanzine platform together. I’ve stayed up way past midnight between his flights on occasion, while he soaked up cultures, to finish up designs. We made it work and no one complained as we are creating, and we love what we do. Eddy lived in South London when we first met. He now lives around the corner from me, here in Hackney.
I’ve been offered lots of office and desk space over the years. “Come and work here for free.” “Look at the view,” (onto another glass building). “It’s so cool around here.” I usually say as politely as I can, “thank you, but no thank you.” That’s great for some people, but it’s not for others.
Also, who is going to not-rush to go sit and watch my son take centre-stage, and steal the school Nativity Play, in his little Joseph costume I bought for him off eBay?
Exactly. Me, that’s who!
Best wishes,
Sherry Collins
