After the 2016 election, one of my women’s advocacy clients was scared about what the changing political climate meant for their future. And rightfully so. With the new administration that was about to take office, they feared that any federal funding they received for their work was in jeopardy of being cut. Sharing their concern, I created two print pieces/posters for them to run leading up to the inauguration. Ultimately, while they loved them, they were afraid that putting their name on any kind of political statement would put them at more risk of losing funding from private supporters who may not be so comfortable with taking this bold a stance. So instead of giving these to my client, I ended up turning them into posters for the ATL Women’s March. Together with four of my colleagues, we brought these messages to the streets of Atlanta on Jan 21, 2017, and added our voices to the fight.
Unfortunately — it looks like we’re going to have to start fighting these battles again.
In the middle of a global pandemic and national lockdown, Mother's Day 2020 was anything but normal. But true to form, about a week before the typically Hallmark-laden holiday, brands started to release their ads thanking moms for everything they do for their families. Only this year, on top of the typical "moms are heroes" rhetoric, they were also making it sound like every minute of quarantine was supposed to be a beautiful treasure that we should all be eternally grateful for, and that we were all spending our stay-at-home time dancing in pajamas and making Instagram-worth chalk murals.
As a mom, I know the truth: that's bullshit.
Any parent would tell you that all the 24/7 neediness + homeschooling + WFH + going through groceries like we were feeding an entire zoo was taking its toll. We were all f-ing tired, and all deserved—no, STILL deserve—a bajillion dollars and a 10-hour massage for getting through it. (Parents who are also real teachers and had the added privilege of managing their classes on Zoom get an extra bajillion.)
So, a few of my fellow advertising/parental friends and I made something to counterbalance the bullshit.
Special thanks to Brady Small, Sheila McDevitt, Todd Slutzky, Stacy Bick, Marc Bick and Kim Cremer Anderson for humoring me and making it happen.
Note: we drop a fair number of f-bombs, so just make sure the kiddos aren't in earshot.
Within days of the economy coming to a halt, many freelancers began losing their ongoing gigs and seeing upcoming projects vanish into thin air. A few weeks in, even fully employed designers, writers, creative directors, photographers, and more were being laid-off in droves. With so many of our friends and connections being affected, my Media Cause creative team wanted to find a way to help. So we developed the #mcfreelancerfeature, a social series spotlighting freelance creatives for hire, ready to jump in to help brands, nonprofits, or anyone in need of creative support during this challenging time. We received an amazing response right out of the gate, and began working on a design aesthetic that would feel appropriate to the situation while also being optimistic, and providing a flexible canvas to highlight each individual’s personality.
When AIGA called for submissions from creatives all over the world to help “get out the vote,” I couldn't resist the challenge. I wrote this prose/poetry hybrid and used type design to communicate both the mass urgency and intimately personal nature of voting. My submission was featured on AIGA’s Instagram account a few weeks later.
In early 2020, was hard enough for adults to wrap our heads around the COVID crisis, much less for kids to understand why they couldn’t (and still can’t) play with their friends, go to school, or do all the normal things they’re used to doing.
Having two kids of my own, I could see the questions and concerns bubbling up in their minds, even though they didn’t always speak them out loud. Inspired by their need for comfort and reassurance, Ida Persson and I created this short animated story to let all kids know that even though the world right now is hard to explain, there are thousands of hands working together—including their own—to help everyone feel safe, healthy, protected, and loved.