We’ve been doing a bit of education work here at SB&A lately, and it’s got me thinking about my own educational path. 

I was always good at school. Smart? Not so much, but good at following rules? Very much so. Things like essay writing and test taking came easy to me, and I breezed through most of high school and college with little effort (granted, I was studying art, so my Intro to Photoshop classes weren’t exactly the pinnacle of academic rigor).

According to everyone around me for most of my academic career, I would be set. I had good grades, test scores, and my teachers and professors liked me. All I had to do was graduate and get that sparkling career rolling.

…and then it didn’t happen.

For all the ease I had in the classroom, I had none outside it. I thrived with structure, grades, deadlines, and assignments. If someone told me what to do – write an essay, answer a test question, design a spec campaign  –  I could do it easy-peasy. But if there was no one telling me what to do, I floundered. I always assumed that success in school would translate into “The Real World,” yet here I was out in the world and entirely unprepared for it. I’d spent so long simply doing what was expected of me that I never put any consideration into what I actually wanted. And now that the decisions were entirely up to me, I couldn’t make them.

It took me more than a couple of years to feel like I’d even remotely landed on my feet. I’ve tried a lot in that time: I’ve worked for going on five years at SB&A, trying my hand at anything and everything from investment fund videos to brewery branding. I’ve worked with a media startup, designing print magazine issues, managing teams of designers, and helping to plan and run live events. I’ve worked on set as an art director at photo and video shoots, working with celebrity talent and models. I’ve photographed concerts, musicians, music festivals, street style, and backstage at New York Fashion Week. I’ve learned a lot in all my experimenting – maybe more than I learned while actually in school. And in the spirit of our education marketing practice lately, I thought I’d go through some of the biggest lessons I’ve learned- post-grad.

1. Your Art is Your Community

This can mean a lot of different things, but two main ones: your work will be influenced by the people you surround yourself with (so surround yourself with good people who have the same ethics as you), and that your friends are often your best and most frequent collaborators. The bigger your community is, the more talent you have at your disposal. If you want to do a photoshoot, you don’t need a fancy studio or gear. You need friends: maybe one has a connection to a studio or a room you can use. One can lend you a camera. Three can be models, and one of those three has a friend that does makeup. And there you have it! There isn’t any more prestige or esteem in “official” work, and knowing people (who know people) can get you very far.

2. It’s The Artist that Matters, Not the Tools

When I started photography, I had an old camera I got in middle school as a gift that had suffered years of beatings and an entire semester being hauled around Europe. My lens had smudge marks I had no idea how to clean, and the extent of my photography knowledge came from a once a week elective in college. When I started working in the same space as professional photographers, with their lenses the length of my arm and multiple cameras and Getty accreditations, I thought for sure that I didn’t stand a chance. But some of my favorite work I’ve done to date has been with that camera. Turns out that a little grit can take you a long way, and that gear and experience doesn’t matter if you don’t have that spark.

3. Being Nice Gets You Far

You can not imagine how rude so many people are. Saying please, sending thank you notes, being patient, treating staff or security at venues like people happens so rarely that consistently doing it already sets you apart. And there are far worse reputations to have than being nice. 

4. So Does Being Annoying

Some people will think you’re annoying no matter what you do. So don’t let a fear of being seen as irritating stop you from asking for what you want. Send that second follow up email. DM that person. Take up space. If you’re going to be seen as a nuisance anyway, might as well get what you want out of it.

5. Find a Basement Window

I quote this one a lot. One time I saw Tina Fey give a talk, and when asked about how to get into the comedy/TV industry when it’s not easy, she said “the front door isn’t always going to be open. So find a basement window.” 

There isn’t always a paved pathway to where you want to go. Or the people who had the paved pathway busted it up behind them, and also closed the door and locked it and are covering their ears so they don’t hear you knocking. You can turn away, or you can find another way into the damn house. There’s a basement window, or a trellis you can climb up, or a back door that was left propped open. There’s always a way if you’re crafty enough, and sometimes you have to be. Sometimes you have to claw your way in under the fence and through the foundation and show up inside with dirt under your fingernails. 

All that to say, the way that other people have gotten to where they are isn’t always going to work for you. Sometimes a lateral move is more effective. I got backstage at an official NYFW show because the publication I work with has been building a strong relationship with a makeup brand that was being used on the models. The “traditional” way is far from the only way, and as long as it gets you inside, it works.

6. No Point Wondering If You’ve Earned Being in the Room if You’re Already In It.

Like many women in male-dominated spaces, I often fear not “earning” my place. I’ve worked next to photographers from Rolling Stone and wondered how the hell they even let me in the doors. 

But at the same time: some let me in. It’s not up to me to question their judgment. If they made a mistake, that’s on them! But I’m in the room, all I have to worry about is doing good work. 

It can be hard to not get bogged down by fears of not being good enough. But I’ve found that worrying about it doesn’t help anyone, let alone me. If I'm allowed to do something: photograph Gov Ball, work for fashion week, then it’s in my best interest to prove myself moving forward, not worry about if what I’ve done in the past is enough.