My creative side led me to marketing; I figured it would be the best way to use my talents in business. I was intimidated when I saw how much technical work was involved in the marketing field. I don’t consider myself a particularly technical person, and I worried at this lack when confronting things like stats and marketing research. Not only did I not have the aptitude, but I lacked interest in the qualitative data, finding it dry and absent what drew me in; culture, personality, connection.
Where Technical Meets Creative.
When I started handling some more technical marketing tasks in freelance work while in grad school, I found that there’s something there that fuels me still.
Granted, I wasn’t performing statistical analysis or digging through reams of quantitative data, but I was looking at faceless, nameless user data, and I found a great deal of satisfaction finding patterns and identifying problems and brainstorming solutions. This, as recent research has shown, is the root of the creative mind; solving problems. But in popular thought, creativity and analytical thought are often regarded as opposites, and this is what I had been told about myself for my entire life. When my SAT score came back less than perfect (at a still-respectable at the time 1360), my parents excused it by dismissing me as a “creative type.”
I believed my entire life that because I could draw and paint and write, that I wasn’t suited for technical applications.
This isn’t entirely incorrect. I’m not skilled at math, it was my lowest score in both the SAT and the GRE. The only way I got As in my math classes, from calculus to stats, was through tremendous effort and strategic coaching by my brother. I stayed up sometimes until four in the morning, my mind long since exhausted, weeping and doggedly pursuing my homework. The courses that frightened me the most were the ones I put the most desperate effort into, and that was the only reason I ever got reasonable grades out of them. It was a trial by fire, over and over and over again. I had to re-learn basic algebra in order to do any of it.
These experiences, born of being slotted back into my old path through mathematics twenty years after I originally left school instead of taking a placement test, cemented this idea that I would persistently struggle and fail with the analytical.
The Technical Experience.
But I found myself being tricked into doing the technical work. It wasn’t math, I’ll grant you that. It wasn’t processing reams of data. But it was technical nonetheless. Maybe that was what allowed me to believe I could do it; the fact that the data I was working with was qualitative. But the analysis was there, despite the lack of numbers, and I got to this surprising place where I not only felt capable of what I was doing, but loved it.
I was examining user behavior for a client website (the name of the client and the website are omitted, of course), and I was presented with a bunch of anonymized, qualitative data and when I first gulped down my trepidation and dove in, I found that I could imagine the customer journey from prospect to lead to customer, I could imagine various funnels and desired conversion points along that journey. And once I was examining the data, I could imagine each user’s goals and desires while navigating the website and search for ways to meet those goals and desires, points at which I thought I could reduce friction and increase conversion. I could finally use all the theory I’d learned, and it felt really good.
With the data stripped of identity, I could take the wide view and not get caught up in any one user’s story or journey. I came to view the website itself as a story, with a host of characters finding their goal, or getting lost along the way, and I could find ways to bring the story to a satisfying conclusion. It was liberating in a way.
What I Learned.
I don’t know whether or not this experience will be a gateway that leads me to both a love of and competence with quantitative data, but if it does, I’m more open to it now. And that’s a really good thing, because exercises like this are going to be routine in a marketing career. Even content writers need to know what to write, and you need data to determine that. Whether you gather and analyze the data yourself or it’s handed to you by another department, you still need to interpret and use it.
Honestly? It was exhilarating to do the work. To see how my passion intersects with it. To find the meeting point of my passion and my fear and navigate it. It was a point of growth, both professionally and personally.
And the main lesson here is not to let fear dissuade you from trying. To not assume you’ll dislike something before you’ve done it. To try, even where you believe you might fail. Failure is a point of growth as well, and a life (and career) endured without risk isn’t worth pursuing at all.
This experience allowed me to fall in love with marketing all over again, and I’m a better person (and marketer) for it.