I was IMed by a young friend of mine who happens to be studying (undergrad) for a career in the biz. This summer, he’ll be spending his time wandering the halls of a death star, hopefully never running to Starbucks or staying up late worrying if his ideas were heard. Ha, to be young.
Well I’m not that old, mind you, but I still remember the feeling I had when I walked into my very first interview. After being blown away by the really cool furniture and sexy-as-hell receptionist, I sat down with my portfolio and waited. And waited.
Shit was I nervous. My palms sweaty, my mouth dry, my left shoe lace untied.
You all remember how your little hearts raced and raced along as the coffee you chugged on the way over coursed through your veins — which were still trying to flush out the remaining alcohol from the night before.
Yeah, it was like that. More after the jump.
That feeling is caused by fear that if we don’t land our first internship, we’ll never make it in life. This is the big moment and everything has lead up to it. If I get this gig, it’s going to be great and all my adclub friends are going to be sooo jealous. In a year, I’ll be an art director…and so the bullshit goeth.
What a joke, right? Real life can suck kiddies…be able to recognize when it doesn’t and be happy!
Back to the present. As summer internship season approaches and you couldn’t care less because you’re thinking about your place in the Hamptons, or your friend’s place in the Hamptons, or your friend’s parents’ place in the Hamptons that you’re not actually invited to but may show up at randomly, remember that one day these kids will be fighting for your job, will do it for less and will be available for many more hours per day than you. Their ideas will be fresher, wittier albeit less cohesive. You’ll still have your experiences and they’ll still be college kids. They’ll be envious of you, and you of them.
But just remember that one day not so long ago, you were an intern, and you still had high hopes for a life in advertising. So don’t fuck it up for all of them by being a dick or making them run dumb errands.
One of my earliest mentors would carve time out of my week and give me a few hours to work on whatever he was doing. We’d both come up with our answers to whatever problem, and compare them for a bit.
Steve was a good guy, even gave me a cigar box that I still use. He looked out for me, and I only had to get coffee once a week. Man I miss those days.
Be Steve. Give your interns cool work. Help them decide if this is what they want to do. It’s summer anyway and you don’t have shit to do, unless you work at Fallon Minneapolis and you have to schlep boxes to the new locale. If that’s the case, then you can make the intern your bitch — save your back for other activities.