I always thought the most important thing we made was the creative product.

Conceptual, groundbreaking, funny, visual, noteworthy, human, surprising, emotional, well-crafted, sure to win at Cannes. And, don’t get me wrong, it is.

The Work will forever be The Thing.

But as I’ve taken on more responsibility in my career, I’ve begun to realize that leadership means not just making the work, but creating the ideal environment for it to flourish. As Tina Fey says, to “hire talented people and get out of their way”. In our field, you have to protect that space like a mofo. I’ve never been one to use a gratuitous sports analogy, but you know curling? A stone is shoved across a patch of ice, and a team of people does some pretty bonkers things with… what are they, brooms? to get the stone to land exactly where they need it to land.

I think of creative leadership as (figuratively) doing all the bonkers things a curling team has to do. It’s seeing vast potential in the client’s business. It’s setting the tone of the room—of every room—to be optimistic, honest, and inclusive. It’s helping strategists unearth the humanity in a brand’s truth and using data as a guidepost to communicate it. It’s listening to every voice in the room, not just the loud ones. And it’s setting a tone of trust and respect with clients, agency partners, and colleagues so that when we roll up our sleeves to share what’s new, we collectively feel great big goosebumps of pride.

I think creative professionals can fall into a real vortex of buzzwordy self-mythologizing if we’re not careful, and to avoid all that, I try and keep myself simple. I’m basically just a professional curler, trying to make sure a big, shiny rock lands in a golden, glorious bullseye, so everyone can do their fancy high-fives and go home happy.

I started out as a receptionist at Hal Riney in San Francisco, and Hal himself knew me by name, as a notably idiotic assistant. I eventually became a copywriter, and have since had a great time not answering the phones at shops large and small in San Francisco, Los Angeles and New York.

My voice has lent swagger to startups and humanity to billion dollar brands.

I still think think that all of our best work still lies somewhere up ahead.