2015’s been an exciting year for the Intelligent Ink team, and we’ve all learnt a lot along the way. In this end of year series, each Inker takes a look at what they’ve learnt and how that’s impacted on their lives – you might call it a peek inside the minds of the Inkers. Here’s to another year of learnings and laughter – see you in 2016!

Marieke Esveld

I’m way cooler on Instagram than in real life (but so is everyone else)

2015 marked the year I finally got Instagram. It was a momentous occasion, my first post featuring a photo of the cocktails friends and I drank, overlooking a bay in Port Villa, Vanuatu. This got a fair bit of love, from both those who I knew, and those I didn’t. And it felt good! Look at my beautiful, cocktail-filled life! I began to obsess. How could I get more followers? Which hashtags were popular? Did people understand my ironic humour? I suspect not. Looking at my adolescent Instagram presence, you might think that cocktails in stunning tropical locations were reflective of my life. The reality is that a photo of a $9 Sav drunk directly from the bottle on the couch in my Ellerslie flat would be much more realistic.

I felt a little guilty. Was I living a lie? Was I deliberately misleading my loyal followers to seem cooler than I really was? Yes, absolutely. After a few weeks of sleepless nights, I realised that PR is 98% selective story telling, and the same applies to social media. My work centres around telling my clients’ positive news stories. True, there is occasionally some damage control, but this is presented in a way that shows the good work being done to rectify things, and what they’ve learnt as a result.

In PR, and social media, we share the highlights; the shiny things, the good food and the fun times. The absence of any negative doesn’t mean bad things aren’t there – we simply choose not to shout about them. I also realised that I hadn’t given my Insta-mates’ intelligence any credit. They know that my life doesn’t really come with a Valencia filter, but no one really wants to see posts about pimples, unwashed dishes and taxes, do they?

Go with your bad self

A year ago, I considered myself a PR junior. I knew a bit, and I’d had a bit of experience, but I still had a lot to learn. The thought of running my own campaign would have terrified me. This year, that’s exactly what I did. Lifewise are one of our brilliant not-for-profit clients. Each year, they hold the Big Sleepout, a fundraising event that recreates the experiences of rough sleepers, raising awareness of and breaking down barriers surrounding homelessness.

During the six years that it has run, The Big Sleepout has gone from strength to strength in the number of people involved, funds raised and media coverage gained. 2014’s success meant I had a lot to live up to, but as Lifewise’s account manager, it was my job to see that the 2015 Big Sleepout got the exposure it deserved. It was a daunting task, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I was nervous. But I knew that I had a great team to work with, and Lifewise’s work supporting New Zealanders on the margins meant that they have access to inspiring people and stories that would give 2015’s Big Sleepout a real point of difference.

I centred coverage of the event around Rika, a young woman who Lifewise had supported off the streets. Once pregnant, homeless and scared, Rika now lives with her partner and son on Waiheke, and is healthy, happy and looking forward to the future. Rika’s story of strength and resilience, along with her optimism, courage and openness, was a huge hit. Her story went viral, and the Big Sleepout was covered by (among others) the New Zealand Herald, the Dominion Post, Newsworthy, Stuff.co.nz, The Paul Henry Show, 3 News, One News and the Otago Daily Times.

The most successful fundraising event Lifewise has held so far, the event was attended by 119 Auckland business, political and community leaders, and many others in Rotorua. The campaign raised over $317,000 towards ending homelessness, and generated over $718,000 of PR value.

Running the campaign, with support from my colleagues and the Lifewise team, taught me the value of believing in oneself. I was terrified that I wouldn’t pull it off. I’d been doing PR for two years, what did I know? A lot more than I realised, it turns out. I got stuck in, trusted my gut, sold the story and the campaign ran perfectly. It challenged perceptions of homelessness and allowed Kiwis to gain an understanding of one of the major social issues affecting our communities, just as it was designed to. Sometimes you don’t realise what you’re capable of until you do it. A big thank you to my friends and colleagues who have never failed to remind me of that.

Don’t be afraid to get a little wild

My role as “PR & People Person” involves a lot of networking. I meet great people, attend fascinating events and dine on more canapés than you can imagine. Tiny food has to be one of the greatest things about a social job. It’s my job to meet and get to know people, and put people in touch with others, so it pays to make a good impression. While these events are a lot of fun, I do tend to filter myself somewhat. It’s important to make people feel good about themselves and their work, to be complimentary and agreeable, and to be professional at all times. A relatively opinionated person at times, I find it best to express myself in a gentler fashion and above all, always be polite.

So when I was invited to Ignite, an international event held by EO; our clients the Entrepreneurs’ Organization, I was a little nervous. To be a member of EO, one must be an owner or managing director of a business with the annual turnover of over US $1million dollars. There are some big players involved, and they like to party. Ignite spanned three days, and I would be attending for one, which started at 8am and ended past midnight. Could I maintain appearances that long?

The day’s events went without a hitch. I learnt from some of New Zealand’s best and brightest entrepreneurs, including Sir Michael Hill, Geoff Ross and Willie Apiata, was wowed by stunning artwork on Gibbs Farm, owned by Kiwi business mogul Alan Gibbs, and met people from all around New Zealand, Australia and the Asia-Pacific region. At 6pm, the days’ programme stated that we would attend the illusive and rather ominously named evening social, “Good Grief.” What?

We were ushered down a bush-lined gulley. The further into the bush we got, we found young women, dressed in Wild West attire, handing out cowboy hats, sheriff badges and pistols. Someone handed me a glass attached to a string, designed to be worn around the neck, and I knew that this was going to be no ordinary networking event.

And it wasn’t. “Good Grief” is the name of Alan Gibbs’ private Wild West town. Good Grief indeed. In front of me stretched a kilometre-long main street, complete with fully functioning bars, saloons, shops, a doctor’s office, a church and even a brothel. People were eating, drinking, dancing and exploring, in what turned out to be the greatest client party I have ever attended.

I had photos to take, and interviews to get, and I was glad that the work kept me occupied. I had topics of conversation to focus on, and the camera kept me from getting carried away in the evening’s events. But around 9pm, I had all the material I needed, so was left wondering how best to proceed. Without a laptop or cell coverage, there was little work that I could do, so I decided to enjoy myself. I’d done all the work I needed to for the day, so put down my camera and notebook and picked up a glass of whiskey and a cigar. ‘Owdy partner.

Turns out cigars are terrible. But from a conversation with a man I met outside the cigar bar, I secured a business development opportunity for Intelligent Ink. I was offered a job in the line for chilli dogs. People I met in the saloon expressed their interest in having Intelligent Ink do their PR. I took a ride on a mechanical bull, and was offered a holiday in Brisbane. Stepping outside, I line danced and cracked stock whips with Kiwi comedy legends the Topp Twins, all with that glass on a string still around my neck.

What did I learn? Loosen up. People in this industry are still people, no matter how successful they are. No one blinked at what I had to say. I made more friends being myself and having a laugh than I ever have holding my tongue. People thanked me for my work, and for my company. I got locked in the county jail. I played poker in the church, under a giant chandelier of crystal skulls and deer antlers. I travelled back to Auckland in a bus with a bar in it.

The next day, I had some great stories to tell the office, and the EO team were thrilled with the coverage that emerged. Be polite, always, but chill. Have fun, take opportunities and don’t be afraid to get a little wild. It might just land you in the West.