Ten years ago I coped with my latest foot surgery and the promise of more chronic pain to come with a somewhat irrational/cliche decision - a tattoo inspired by Robert Frost’s words about the miles left to go. I went in for a postage stamp, I walked out with a sleeve. It seems quaint now, but at the time an Upper East Side corporate PR person with visible ink was a rarity. Two years later when interviewing with some larger agencies for a new gig, a select few awkward comments about me needing to cover up the ink and the inspiration. It shook me, so I called dad. Though he loathes tattoos to his core, he preached to ignore the noise, to move forward with earmuffs, and to trust my gut. I can still hear the clarity of his wisdom and encouragement. The seed of what would become Praytell was planted.
Truth is, mom and dad both picked the agency name. Connie, a bookseller, and Larry, a pastor for 30 years until strokes started to take a toll, made it clear; the name is Praytell, a family name. And so it was. Our name honors them, every day something to live up to.
They inspired our logo too, a lighthouse. It goes back to a gift dad sent when we moved into our very first office. Here’s the email from 2013, accompanying the watercolor that still hangs in our Brooklyn office:
“When companies are wondering what to do, they need to head for the lighthouse. Such a lighthouse, Sequin Island, is off the shore of Popham Beach, where you first touched the water of the ocean as your mother and I took you to the shores. We wanted you to have a painting that showed an in-motion ocean banging against something solid, with the light of a new day in the distance. This is what Praytell is all about. Lost? Give us a call. Caught in a storm? Give us a call. We will do the right thing. We will answer the call.”
We’ve tried to live up to those words, we sure have. We talk about what it is to be a lighthouse often, it's become our shorthand for what it means to be a Praytellian. That's not to say it's easy in times of growth or in times of uncertainty, and I know I too often don't live up to the ideals as a leader, I sure do. But I’m grateful for the north star and will keep trying to not betray it.
We talked about mom and dad a lot in our early years, as a company. They were an extended part of the crew, even though no one had met them because health prohibited travel. Then one day an employee asked - if they can’t come here, can’t we go to see them?
Two weeks later thirty-some employee-partners flew to Minneapolis from 8 cities to meet my mom and dad, a weekend we shared with them as we cried and laughed and thought about purpose and life. Dad played banjo and told stories, mom told picked a few embarrassing ones. The team bought them flowers and gave a framed picture from the day before, which led to more tears.
It was the best weekend of my life and even when dad confuses my name, he asks about the people of this agency with consistent clarity and interest. He asks about those he’s met and those he hasn’t, he knows how important they all are.
That’s the new PRWeek North American Agency of the Year. That’s Praytell. That’s what we’ve been building. Those moments and a million more, moments of generosity and kindness that paved the way for this moment in time and what's to come. The camps, the flights, the weekend work, the big wins, the tough losses, the fears and exhilaration of collectively speaking something into existence. We’re not perfect, but we’re not gonna let the industry down with this honor, not with the people we care about so dearly watching so closely and caring so much. This is a trampoline, not a ceiling.
In the end, I’ll never have the right words to sum up the surprise of the wins and the joy that followed, the release of so much terror and trauma from this year of uncertainty. And I don’t have the word-count authority to name the people who made this all possible, the depth of appreciation we have for their support. And I can’t stress enough how committed we are to the Black Lives Matter movement, how we’re just getting started pushing for a more thoughtful, courageous, intentional network of allies and activists. We will follow through.
Thank you Steve and PRWeek editors for being Lighthouses too. We are deeply grateful for your consideration and what you do for the industry, even despite how ornery I can be.
Dad’s words from 2013 were right. We are built for the waves, and will always look to the light of the new day in the distance, together. We’re built to last. To navigate these woods, dark and deep with clarity and community.
Dear readers and friends, onwards. Onwards and ever, ever upwards,
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