“100 Roses from Concrete” Provides Sunlight, Soil, & Water For Creative People of Color
INTERVIEW BY TREY ALSTON / CONTRIBUTING WRITER
For a long time, Keni Thacker was “in the room” without a seat at the table. Now, he’s fighting to make sure that people of color get the chance to sit down in advertising agencies everywhere. And with a long, esteemed background prioritizing diversity, as well as creating one of the most important creative programs for Black people in advertising with 100 Roses From Concrete, Thacker is marching towards a knockout.
But before that, let’s talk about “diversity” and “inclusion” — the corporate buzzwords that agencies everywhere like to keep at the tips of their tongues, but often amount to not meaning much of anything. Agencies, in recent years, have announced their commitments to bringing in more people of different ethnic backgrounds through initiatives and appointments of individuals to handle the task of creating more inclusive rosters.
These kinds of announcements get likes online and claps from fellow industry chaps—even financial backing and press coverage to make it possible. But looking at what has actually come from this focus on “diversity” and “inclusion” is sobering: a 2020 study reported by Forbes examined 165 agencies with more than 40,000 employees and found that Black and African American employees account for just 5.8% of the industry.
There’s so much that needs to be done—introducing Black creatives to advertising and mentoring them is the start. And that’s some of what Thacker has devoted his career to. He’s fifteen years into the advertising industry and he’s made it a focus of doing real diversity and inclusion work—taking agencies to town for their diversity or lack of, and making sure that Black creatives get the opportunity to not just get their dream opportunity but to develop and flourish as well.
Thacker created 100 Roses From Concrete, but he’s also done so much more, that to paint him as just its founder would do his journey so far an injustice. Here he is explaining the origin of 100 Roses From Concrete, the Young Commodores Program, what real diversity and inclusion look like, and much much more.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
How did you get into the advertising industry ?
I fell into this industry 15 years ago. I was freelancing, doing technical assistance and event tech. And one of my freelance gigs was at Ogilvy. When I got the gig I didn't even know what Ogilvy really was, but soon I found out they made commercials. I spent a year there and was then hit up by the former agency called JWT. Little did I know they were a part of the same holding company. I was at JWT for 13 years.
Working in event technology gave me the opportunity to see the world. I got to hang around the CEOs, CCOs, and all the top executives. I was always in the room where it happened but I never had a seat at the table. But being in the room where it happened gave me the opportunity to be a sponge and learn how these leaders and decision-makers really ran the ad game at the end of the day.
So when I started doing my DNI work, I took all the things that I had learned but added that into the way that I do DNI. For a long time, DNI was pretty much an HR's job. Right? But if we've learned anything about how bad the advertising industry is at DNI, HR has been doing it wrong since day one. So I look at DNI more in a creative and psychological space, wrapped with an entrepreneurial bow at the end of the day.
I spent some time at Golin and transitioned to CMG. Once COVID hit, CMG let me go. And that's when I knew I needed to be on this road on my own. So I created my company, Keni Thacker, which is a diversity consultancy. And before I left JWT, I created my nonprofit, 100 Roses From Concrete, which is the premier network for people of color in advertising, marketing media, and public relations. That's the journey. And that's the short version.
Fifteen years in, you had to have seen some experiences that shaped your approach to DNI. What were they?
I was always inspired to do this work from stories that I would hear from great young people, and even older folks like me. The common thread was always this lack of support, this lack of development, this lack of inclusion, per se.
So that's what put me onto this journey. I don't want to make this a numbers game. I want to make this about humanity, about positivity, about productivity, about profitability. Because the numbers tell us that diverse teams just do better at the end of the day.
I was inspired hearing from so many different people in my travels. And even the bad stories inspire me because these are conversations that I can share with some of my white friends that are leading these organizations, and say “This is the horror story I've heard from this person. You don't want your agency to be part of a story like this. So get your shit together.” These are the conversations that I'm having.
Could you tell me about the Young Commodores program at J. Walter Thompson High School. What's the story behind that?
The Young Commodores was an idea that I had when I was actually taking a break from this type of work between 2015 and 2016. I had the opportunity to actually attend the Cannes Festival in 2016. I came back to the states after the festival and I was pissed off because I rarely saw any Black or Brown people there. I knew that my time on the proverbial DNI bench had come to an end and that if I was going to come back to this work I wanted to do something that was bigger than anything I had ever done in this space.
So that's why I created the Young Commodores, which was the first-ever high school/college mashup of multicultural students that work on a real-life client. So that's where that inspiration came from.
I developed it as an alternative pipeline to help the agency out in regards to its pipeline of diverse talent. But, unfortunately, the agency did not capitalize on what I was doing. And, unfortunately, not one of the young people that I had brought through that program was ever hired or even interviewed. Once that didn't happen, I knew that my time at JWT was coming to an end.
It’s awesome that you took people so young and planted the seeds of learning about advertising—even if they didn’t get the job. From where I’m from, a lot of people of color aren’t even aware that this is a field that can be pursued.
I mean, this industry is just not something we're exposed to, right? So if you rewind the clock back and think about maybe junior year of high school and think about Thanksgiving. You've got your whole family coming to your house. Most of us don't have the copywriter, or the art director, or the strategist, or the production person as a family member that's sitting at that table. So they're not going to ask you, "Hey, so what are you going to major in in college? Do you want to do what I do?" Because we just don't have those people in our families.
So those conversations aren't being had, and that exposure is not being had. And that access we don't have either because those people are just not at our dinner tables. And, also, I'm not going to speak for all people of color, but when you think about our community, creative careers are sometimes frowned on. Because our parents want us to play it safe.
So teacher, cop, lawyer, doctor, bus driver. Just jobs ... and there's no disrespect to those jobs. Those jobs are beyond critical. They're beyond essential. But if you're this kid that likes to draw or this kid that likes to write lyrics, poems, or stories, those jobs don't speak to you. Right? But some of our parents just don't know how to nurture the creative side of what we do.
So I had a good friend of mine as a guest for my growth initiative. And he's Nigerian and he said that Nigerian parents are like “you're either a doctor or you're a loser.” And he’s a Senior Art Director at Facebook. So we really have to think about how our community is really curating our artists. Just because we love to create, it doesn't make us losers. There’s nothing wrong with being a dreamer.
So it's about how do we actually protect our young people's dreams, especially the ones that are on the creative side? We let them know that advertising is an option. Just like being a doctor, a lawyer, a cop, a teacher. I want more Black and Brown folks in advertising to show up at high school and middle school career days to say, “Hey, there's a place for you here. You can do this and make a good living.”
What would you say that it means to rise from the concrete? And how would you say that you have? And what does that do for creatives of color who also need to do so?
So, obviously, for those in the space in the community, everyone knows the poem by the late great Tupac Shakur, “The Rose That Grew From Concrete.” So when I created the organization, I didn't want my organization to have anything to do with color.
There are all these organizations where you can immediately, just by the name, know what they do. I didn't want to make it easy. So when I thoough about my journey in advertising, it's like trying to “grow a rose from concrete.”
Unlike my white counterparts, I did not have the soil, the sunshine, or the water to help me grow. I had to learn how to be hydroponic at the end of the day. So by creating the organization, it's basically a hydroponic organization that provides support and provides that sunlight, soil, and water to people of color in these industries. Because waiting on our white counterparts to do right by us just doesn't happen.
It comes out of my personal experience being in this industry, being in a constant state of being misunderstood, being undervalued, being underappreciated, being underpaid, suffering from imposter syndrome. That has been my story, but I've learned to transcend all of that and rise from the concrete, rather than rotting away in some agency that's never going to appreciate what I do.
Because of 100 Roses From Concrete, do you think that there have been significant strides in diversity for creatives of color?
I would yes. As the late great Nipsey says, “it's a marathon,” right? The marathon continues. We have been able to make a difference in real-time for just people in these industries, creatives, whatever the discipline is.
We are letting these agencies know, as the hashtag that I pretty much use all the time, #WeOutHere. People know we out here now. And it's all because of the work that the team and I have been doing to show the industry that we out here. In our first year we had no corporate sponsors at all. In our second year, we have corporate sponsors because they're realizing the greatness that people of color bring to the table. And now they're investing into the organization.
So shout out to all of our partners. Shout out to Adobe. That's huge for us. Shout out to Sanyo. Shout out to Diigo. Shout out to Real Chemistry. Shout out to R/West. Shout out to Pereira O'Dell, for really putting your money where your mouth is, but also understanding that this is a marathon and not a 100-yard dash.
What would you say that you've learned from creating this organization and how do you think that you've been challenged since stepping into the role?
So as a Chief Creative Officer and the founder of 100 Roses From Concrete, it's definitely not an easy job. Especially when you have 101 alumni, hundreds of mentors, and hundreds of actual members in the organization. So keeping the brand on track is definitely hard to do. But the good, small percentage of people that also contribute to the organization has actually made it an easier job. Well, not an easier job, but definitely a bit easier for me to pick and choose what we do. But we’re always sticking to the brand core values, which is connect, collaborate, and grow. And doing that for talent of color in advertising, marketing media, and PR.
The great thing about being the founder is that I can promote myself whenever I want, and that's a fun thing. But to keep the brand intact, you also have to have people around you that are going to help you do that. So that's where my board members come in very handy, to make sure that we're staying the course and we're not straying from the core values of the organization.
How do you think that the industry can be challenged to become more inclusive?
It's all about adjusting, adapting, and taking action. Unfortunately, this industry likes to talk more than actually take action. So that's where the problem has been. There are too many people talking, right? And there are not enough people acting on actually making the change happen. And unfortunately, when it comes to diversity, equity, and inclusion, for some reason they always think, “Oh, it's the Black and Brown and Asian brothers and sisters’ job to really bring it to fruition.”
None of us created the problem. It was white people that created the problem. So y'all should be solving the problem that you created. Period. But for some reason, we have to be the diversity whisperers for most of these organizations. And I'm not mad that it's created a lane for myself and many others. I appreciate organizations that come to me or my colleagues and say, “We need help with this.”
Then I'm perfectly fine meeting you where you are because those organizations are the ones that aren't doing all the yipper yapping about how much they value diverse talent. They're actually stepping to the plate and saying, “Look, we're bad at this. We need your help.” Those are the ones that I have the most respect for.
Have you seen any agencies or people in positions of power that would you say have been successful in really walking the walk when it comes to diversity? And how would you say this has impacted their companies?
That's probably the hardest of all your questions because the answer is “Nobody's doing it best.” Because we're still having this fucking conversation. Look, even with the organizations that I'm working with and I'm helping, we're still figuring out what ingredients actually make it work.
A lot of times, agencies think that diversity, equity, and inclusion ... or diversity culture, equity, and inclusion as I call it, they think it's like a mother fucking peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And it's not. It's all about finding the right components to make sure that the DNI actually works for your said agency, rather than jumping on the bandwagon and thinking “Oh, well, we need to just get more Black and Brown people here. We need to have unconscious bias training and just leave it at that.”
There's so much more to this than just that. What works for agency X is not going to work for agency B, and what works for agency B is not going to work for agency K. It's all about understanding that DNI at the end of the day, my brother, is not a one size fits all problem. There are not a lot of BIPOC people in these agencies. But you have to dig even deeper into why your specific agency does not have a lot of BIPOC people. Where are you looking? And what are you doing with the few BIPOC people that you do have that they're not in leadership roles?
Black people have been in this country for 400 years. Other minority groups have been here for hundreds of years as well. But don't act like we just landed on planet earth and, oh, now we need to figure it out. Y'all been had to figure it out.
The way that I approach DNI is definitely from a creative standpoint with an entrepreneurial sense. But it's also very aggressive, because this conversation about DNI in the advertising business period, started 60 fucking years ago. And we're still talking about it. Why? Because motherfuckers have dragged their feet for that long. And those that have even been in the game have not aggressively gone after these organizations or company, and have pacified their diversity efforts in order to save face and also, sad to say, make money. I know I gave you a whole sermon, but that's the way I just see things.