Who was your favorite teacher, and why?
Maria Fabrizio
I can’t choose one. The collective group of teachers as parents at Governor’s school get the gold medal. They were all hard, they all made me cry, and they all made me better at my craft. They saw potential where I did not. I doubt that each of them know how much they changed my life: Joe Thompson, Ben Gilliam, Axel Forrester, Carly Tucker, Alice Munn, Dana Howard, Michal Brodeur, and Katya Cohen.
Teresa Coles
Carol Gunn, my English teacher of all four years of high school. That level of consistency yielded my permanent mastery of its versus it’s.
Ryon Edwards
Two favorites: Dangerfield Ashton, my middle school art teacher. He was eccentric, outspoken, and wild. He painted some crazy stuff. Chris Davis, my high school art teacher. She was softspoken, sensible, and honest. She led me to study design in college, which I am grateful for.
Cathy Monetti
Dr. Robert W. Hill, English professor at Clemson University. He made me believe I had potential as a poet.
Kevin Smith
Dr. Jim Sims. He made history relevant by drawing parallels with present day. We have much to learn from the French and Russian Revolutions.
Kathryn White
Dr. Teresa Jones, professor of English. She taught me to be a better reader, critic, and writer–but most importantly, she taught me to get to the heart of it.
at Swarthmore
Swarthmore is a fine liberal arts college located just on the outskirts of Philadelphia. There is much to say about the Swarthmore experience, not the least of which is the way a visitor can be moved simply by the school’s idyllic campus: an arboretum dotted with old stone buildings, antique rose gardens and long, long lazy lawns perfect for philosophic conversations and college courting. (I’m quite sure these lawns have seen a bit of both.)
I visited there recently to celebrate the graduation of my eldest stepson, Carson Monetti (highest honors in Philosophy, thank you very much). He walked us oh-so-casually around the campus while I snapped photo after photo. And then we came upon The Tree.
“What’s the story there?” asked my husband.
Turns out the tree is a 30-foot oak that began a descent into death some time ago. Rather than remove it, Swarthmore and the arboretum agreed to paint it red, demonstrating the tree’s ability to transcend the natural limitations of regular existence (a dead tree) and be transformed into something new (a work of art).
I find this story of transformation profoundly important. But I have to say I love my own story, too. I was mesmerized by that red tree from the moment I saw it, imagining a band of idealistic college co-eds descending upon it under the cover of darkness, paintbrushes in hand, transforming it into their own powerful statement. Day dawned, in my story, and the red tree lived on in spite of Administration, simply because it was so. . . Swarthmore.
I love that campus. I love that red tree.
As you’re reading this, I’m miles away from the office. Nearly 2000 miles away, to be exact. (Thanks to the magic of the Internet.) It’s time for a family vacation, and my husband and I have gathered our three kids and headed off for an adventure.
Arizona
In the week before I left—which was as busy as my return is sure to be—I worked my way steadily through a to-do list in preparation for one thing: a week in Sedona. Colleagues asked me, “Will you be checking your email? Will you be available?”
After a pause, I answered, “No, I’m totally unplugging.” And that was that.
Our world has changed since I started an advertising agency in 1987. Over the years, it became increasingly easier to stay connected. Enter today, when we’re all one email, text message, or tweet away. It’s always been tempting to take the work home with you. It’s even more tempting now that work can fit in the palm of your hand.
But there’s something necessary about disconnecting. Whatever your job—“creative” or not—your brain needs an occasional refresh to keep producing your best ideas. Research documents that our brains often solve problems or generate new ideas when we’re not thinking about them. Creating mental distance by unplugging allows you to truly experience the things that enrich your creativity anyway—sunshine, laughter with your family, the luxury of uninterrupted sleep. All the while, the work you left at work is simmering in your subconscious.
You might not be at the Grand Canyon for a week, but you can leave your phone at your desk during lunch. You can go home from work, make a nice dinner, and eat it on your porch instead of at your laptop. You can declare the occasional email-free morning.
And when you return, you can tackle your work with fresh eyes. In this business, sometimes a pair of fresh eyes is exactly what you need.
What did you wear to prom?
Cathy Monetti
Pepto bismol pink
Pete Anderson
Black rental tuxedo, white shirt, lime green bow tie and vest.
Julie Turner
Bad dresses, bad boyfriends and huge hair. Every. Time.
Katy Miller
I borrowed a dress from a “cool college” friend.
Kevin Smith
Standard black tuxedo with black bow tie.
Kathryn White
A low-backed dress that caused quite a scandal at the conservative homeschool group “prom.”
Teresa Coles
Alas. My school was too small to prom.
Maria Fabrizio
Strapless, floor length, pink, sequins that started at the bust and cascaded down to the floor.
White corsage.
Yanti Pepper
The only lasting memory I have of prom night was my boyfriend’s car. He took me to prom in his old Chevy Malibu that he was refurbishing. It was in mid-transformation so the entire car was still in that gray primer paint. And as if the cherry bomb exhaust wasn’t noisy enough, the doors squeaked really loudly when you opened them. Our prom was at the prestigious Mayflower Hotel in Washington, DC. Imagine the look on the valet’s face when we pulled up in that ride…
A song you could listen to on repeat (and maybe you have):
Julie Turner
Teenage Dream, The Warblers (Glee) covering Katy Perry
Cathy Monetti
At least for today.
One Part Love, Jeffrey Foucalt
Ryon Edwards
Stuck in A Loop, Devo
Maria Fabrizio
For at least 14 years this has been my absolute fav. duh.
MMMBop , Hanson
Kevin Smith
I’m all about the repeat, and this tops my play it again list.
Don’t Dream It’s Over, Crowded House
Kathryn White
I can’t make these sorts of decisions! So here’s what’s been on repeat when the sun is shining and the windows are down.
Shutterbug, Big Boi / Foals mashup
Pete Anderson
Sloop John B, The Beach Boys
Rebecca Jacobson
Fearless Love, Melissa Etheridge
Yanti Pepper
Fix You, Coldplay
I’ve long held that January is the only civilized month. With its winter arms and 5 o’clock cloak, January offers an extraordinary opportunity to slow down, curl up, hide away. In fact, I love January because it is the one month in which it is deemed perfectly respectable to do so.
In January, I read. And by that I mean I fall slowly and deeply into wonderful, winding novels that take entire afternoons that stretch into evenings that go right on with me to my cozy you-can-never-have-too-much-down bed. I skate through centuries and across continents and just for a while, take leave of the incessant demands that are my life.
In January, I sit. Our living room is built around a real wood-burning fireplace, and our neighbors know if there is smoke coming from the chimney, Cathy is In Residence. There is just something about that fireplace, and me. I would rather sit and stare at its flames than watch TV or sit on a beach or play on my iBook. The woodsy smell, the pops and cracks, the constant tending, the red hot embers—I stare like a young lover, mesmerized.
In January, I knit. I know. So 70s. But I love the feel of yarn and the rhythm of the pattern and clickclickclick of the needles. I find deep satisfaction in making something useful. And I rejoice in the creation of something so beautiful, just Right There.
In January, I promise. I tell myself it’s within my power to make time to do these things any time of the year; that there’s no reason I can’t take an entire afternoon IN AUGUST to sit quietly, or read, or create.
And I believe. Until inevitably, February comes, and the pause button releases.
Until then . . .
In college, I worked as a summer counselor at a wilderness camp in Alaska. My program director was passionate about equipping our campers with skills, not just entertaining them. This meant that nine year old girls built our campfires.
This also meant that sometimes we ate cold stew. Or spent our whole dinner hour trying to inspire fourth-graders to gather kindling. And I spent a great deal of time hovering nervously as little fingers fumbled with matches. But I will never forget how each child changed after her small pile of kindling caught flame. Immediately, she was taller, more confident—because her mentor believed in her ability to try.
I’m the new apprentice at Riggs Partners. I think the brilliance of the RP apprenticeship program comes from its unique structure—a recent college grad working in a close mentor/mentee relationship with one of the partners. With just one week behind me, I’m realizing that when Cathy agreed to mentor me, she meant it. She’s not merely handing me an assignment list—she’s teaching me. When I started, Cathy told me to watch for the lesson every day. So here it is:
Look around you. Are you mentoring anyone? Can you be mentored by someone? The mentoring relationship has potential to be one of the most valuable relationships you develop for your career. Mentors inspire. Mentees learn. And sometimes, it’s the other way around.
Sustaining this constant exchange of knowledge, experience, and inspiration takes time, but the payoff is worth it. Riggs Partners recognizes this, and their apprenticeship model is designed to maximize the mutual benefits. I’m excited to spend the next few months working in such an inspiring environment—learning how to build my own fires.
-Kathryn White
On August 11, 2009, after 22 years in the industry, veteran agency Riggs Advertising announced its move from a larger agency with on-staff employees to a five-person partnership that works with a network of strategic contacts. The model was innovative, bold and ahead of its time – and it was dubbed “Riggs Partners.”
Six months later, partners Cathy Monetti and Teresa Coles presented the new Riggs model to more than 50 agency principals from across the country.
The presentation was part of a three-day seminar held by Second Wind, a business-improvement information network consisting of more than 9000 small to midsize advertising agencies, design firms and related businesses. The seminar, held at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas, Nevada, highlighted the SMALL+SMART agency model, an idea which held an uncanny resemblance to Riggs Partners’ existing structure.
“Riggs Partners was smart to make this shift from traditional ad agency to small and smart outsourcing agency,” said Tony Mikes, managing director of Second Wind. “Their structure is a wise and timely response to economic change, overhead-weary clientele, increased freelancing and advanced technology. They have recognized an idea whose time has come.”
Monetti and Coles offerred expert advice to a number of inquiring principals attending the seminar. “It will be interesting to see how many traditional agencies now move to a smaller structure,” Monetti said. “I hope to see many follow suit, because I truly believe – especially for midsize companies – our structure is the agency model of the future.”
- Sammy Rutkowski
