Local
We were thinking of dropping this over in our Editorials section, but sometimes those posts don't get a ton of traffic. We felt that Danny's views on the closing of Miami Ad School deserved some front-page love as it'll probably generate some great discussion.
"The Lost Children of Miami Ad School"
By Danny Walsh
I sat inside of a demolition. It wasn’t like one of those cool videos you see of an old stadium’s swift collapse. No, this one was painfully slow, poorly planned and highly destructive. But, like any other demolition project, it left behind more than dirt and debris.
Miami Ad School (MAS) wasn’t the most flattering building to begin with. It was a grungy, second-floor space in the Warehouse District of Minneapolis, just past the outskirts of the ongoing North Loop renaissance. It lagged far behind the beautiful spaces that characterize the rest of Miami’s worldwide network.
Despite its shortcomings, it was the first place our small tribe of creative misfits could call home in advertising. I’ll never forget the day they told us we were closing down. A flurry of negative emotions branded in my mind. The founder had a wide grin as she reminisced about opening the school 10 years ago.
“Stop smiling, bitch,” I thought to myself.
From a financial standpoint, it probably made sense to shut down the Minneapolis location. Our student population hovered around 20 in recent years, largely due to the fact that many students landed jobs before finishing the full two years. In other words, our school was too effective in getting students jobs.
That didn’t fit MAS’ paradoxical business model: get a job, after we get our money. I remember a time my teacher was nearly fired for encouraging a classmate and I to apply for a non-MAS sanctioned internship. She was in the wrong for trying to help us. It’s completely insane, looking back on it.
Speaking of insanity, try this one on for size: the advertising school I was attending failed to effectively advertise itself. While their Sao Paulo location ran video spots by Saatchi&Saatchi, they gave our admin a table at UWMadison’s career fair in the midst of a student population crisis. I doubt that ‘tactic’ would survive a creative review in one of our classes.
It’s painful to think this situation happened at a school full of talented, creative minds eager for a crack at some real client work. I can only imagine the plethora of great ideas that would come from a schoolwide “Save MAS Minneapolis” campaign assignment. But that didn’t happen, so now all they get is this scathing editorial.
My purpose for writing this is more than therapeutic venting, although that has been a welcomed side effect. Going to ad school felt like initiation for a Southern fraternity, except my bank account took the brunt of the hazing. Ask a creative about their ad school experience and I’m sure you’ll hear a similar grievance. But, hey, it got you that job you wanted, right?
It’s painful to know this situation exists in an industry filled with really smart people, who try to think of the best possible way to do something every day. The same industry that taught me to Think Different and challenge the status quo allows this far-from-perfect system to remain. It’s just hard for me to believe someone doesn’t have a better idea out there.
The dust has settled around me by now, and I consider myself lucky to walk away from the remains of MAS. It’s not like one of those mystical ruins left behind for us to appreciate and marvel. No, this structure was just as flawed when it stood tall as it is lying destroyed. But, like any other demolition project, it’s more than dirt and debris beneath my weary feet:
It’s an opportunity.