Rebranding “Immigrant” | Carlos Gutierrez Pantoja | TEDxBentleyU

I love branding and advertising. From a young age, I remember being fascinated by the images I would find while flipping through a magazine or the commercials I would see while playing on TV. As a kid, flashing visuals and exciting new products can really make you feel like you want something, even though you might not need it. Now that I'm an adult and currently working in this industry, I've come to realize that it really isn't the commercial aspect to branding and advertising that I like, but rather it's the process, the process of educating and exposing people to ideas and movements they might not know enough about or previously hadn't heard of. To me, the power of advertising does not rely on giant billboards or Super Bowl commercials. That's just part of it. It relies on having the power to get into people's minds and change their perception about something. We commonly define these types of initiatives as awareness campaigns, and if done effectively, these campaigns can really have an influence over the way we look at things that are happening in the world. When I began college back in 2014, from day one, I knew that I wanted to work in advertising. I just had to figure out how to open that door first. As my mom reminded me every now and then, when you choose a job you love, you will never have to work a day in your life. I feel like there's a book out there that all parents read, and that is where they get this quote from. Nonetheless, it's excellent advice. I knew career-wise what I loved, and I wanted to make a living out of it. During my undergraduate summers, I had the chance to complete advertising internships internationally. For the first one, I flew back to my home country, Honduras. For the second one, I flew across the pond and worked in London, whether I was client-facing or back of the house, working for digital or print, collaborating with an international business or a local one. With each of these experiences, my love and passion for advertising grew, and I knew that I wanted to pursue this full-time after graduation. When it was time to begin my job search process, a stressful moment in every young adult's life, I began to question everything I had done professionally for the last four years. This would be my first time pursuing a full-time job in the United States as an international student. When I was in Honduras, I was able to infuse the work that I did with my Latino roots. When I was in London, I was one of many employees with an international background, but in the US, things just felt different. I would go to career fairs, and I was fortunate if out of 100 companies, two of them hired international students for jobs in advertising. I would reach out to recruiters, network, build relationships to eventually hear from them that they could only extend job offers to a limited number of non-US residents. They had already met that quota. I thought that my love for advertising was limitless, but in that moment, numbers became my biggest enemy. I also knew, however, that I wanted to stay here for as long as I could. In order to do that, I had to get a job. Not only that, but I had to get a job within a certain number of days before my student visa expired. I had invested extremely formative years of my life in America. I was just beginning to get a taste of what I thought the American dream was, and I did not want to let go of it. Bentley students, what is the one thing we start working on the second we get here? Other than trying to figure out how to get along with our freshman year roommates, we learn how to build strong resumes. I wanted my resume to be on steroids, highlighting all of my experiences on campus, my involvement, my professional experiences, my GPA. Then it didn't really matter how much time I spent making sure that these areas looked good. I couldn't hide the fact that I was still an immigrant until I tried to. During in-person or phone interviews, I began to over-enunciate every single word I was saying in order to make sure I was hiding even the tiniest hint of an accent. Small disclaimer, back in Honduras, I did grow up watching 20 seasons of Dancing with the Stars and 22 seasons of America's Next Top Model, so when it came down to American slang, I was an expert. It didn't really matter, though, how much I understood, interacted with, and adopted American culture. I was still an aspiring immigrant. I would write cover letters describing where I am today and where I'd like to see myself in the future, but I would never mention where I came from. When the biggest fault in your resume is something you can't control, your self-worth begins to struggle. I did remember, though, that I come from a family of strong, independent immigrants. My sources of inspiration were just a phone call away. I stopped thinking of myself as a non-U.S. resident seeking a job to stay in America and started branding myself as a global advertiser who already had professional experiences working for two international markets, Honduras and London, by age 22. My elevator pitch worked. I landed the job of my dreams and started working with an amazing media team at the number one advertising agency in the United States. Amongst many other things, this meant that I could stay here working for another year. But what happens when that year ends in July? Another period of uncertainty, as I would have to apply for an H-1B visa extension that is based on a lottery process. With this, I felt like I was constantly worrying, worrying about the next part of my life without realizing that I was right in the middle of what I used to look forward to. About two months ago, I had a conversation with my employers, and they let me know that we wouldn't be able to apply for my H-1B visa extension which is what I needed to stay. I'll be leaving my job in July of this year, not because of my performance, not because I didn't love what I was doing, but because of my immigration status. As I broke the news to my friends and coworkers, a common response that I got was, Carlos, that's not fair. This idea of fairness is something I had been struggling with because while my situation did not seem fair to them, there was far more unfairness happening in the country. I felt like now more than ever, in a country that was founded by immigrants, being an immigrant was no longer a good thing. For so long, I felt like I had to hide or silence such an important part of my identity within a system that did not guarantee anything in return. And going back to this idea of fairness, looking at it on a national level, what I kept seeing through my eyes, especially this past year, was the dehumanization of my Honduran brothers and sisters. On the news, my hometown, San Pedro Sula, has been labeled as the murder capital of the world. Gang violence, extortion, sexual and gender discrimination are things that I experienced and saw for the first 18 years of my life. And as someone who's been very much affected by this, I completely understand where a need to leave comes from. That is why I wasn't surprised by the number of people that joined the immigrant caravan this past year. But for someone who hasn't grown up in an area affected by high levels of corruption, violence, and poverty, this can be hard to understand. Only a small percentage of Hondurans have the means to make their way into the US and afford an education that could extend into a work visa. We have citizens of Central America putting their lives at risk on the road. To further be persecuted upon reaching the border of the United States. To me, it's no longer a conversation about letting people in. It's a conversation about human rights. And as I prepared for this talk and thought about this, I ultimately wanted to look at it through the lens of a non-US resident who is working in advertising. The power that advertising has relies on changing people's perception about something. In order to do so, there is a set process that we follow. One of the first things that we are taught as marketers is a simple diagram called the consumer's journey. This diagram is divided into five steps that must be followed in chronological order. You can only advance from one step to the other after the previous step has been completed. The last four of these steps are interest, desire, action, and post-action. But before we can get to any of these steps, we must begin with step number one, awareness. And that is why I'm here today. We can't be interested in something or take action if we are not aware as to what is happening and why it's happening. People who joined the caravan in October of last year, starting in Honduras, were tired of fearing for their lives and hopeless about ever being able to provide a stable future for their families. Mothers did not come here to be separated from their children upon reaching the border. A transgender Honduran woman did not come here to be murdered in a US detention center. My people didn't come here to take your jobs. We came here to support our families, for our safety, and to be who we are without the fear of persecution. As we become more aware of the reasons as to why someone might leave their home country and how they're being treated upon reaching another country's border, we can take smarter action and show that we care for those who are being treated in the worst ways possible upon asking for asylum in the United States. And I do believe in the power of immigration because my heroes are immigrants. In 1979, at the center of the Nicaraguan Revolution, my mom wasn't sure about her future in a country that had declared a violent war between political parties. At age 15, she decided to move to the nearest neighboring country, Honduras, leaving her mom, sisters, and everyone she knew behind. Once the war was over, the border between Honduras and Nicaragua was closed. She could no longer go back. Being separated from your family, really at any age, will affect you for a number of years. But my mom knew that in the long run, it would be worth it. In Honduras is where my mom finished her education, developed herself as an outstanding professional, raised my brother, and raised me. And I do think she knows it was worth it. My older brother, a Bentley alumni like myself, was able to get his H-1B visa after graduating. He is now five years into a career in global banking technology and living in Brooklyn. I'm so thankful that out of all people, I was able to have my brother close to me as he made America feel like home when I first moved here. The three of us get to be together as a family around two to three times a year during special occasions. And today is one of those special occasions. My mom and my brother are here. We understand that the reasons why we moved are so that we can get to a point where we can support one another and safely be together again. I no longer hide, professionally or personally, my immigrant identity, as I understand the power that immigration has. By applying the basic principles of advertising, we can understand that without awareness, we cannot get to a point in which we can open our doors and opportunities to people from other countries. Let the stories of immigrants be heard as told by immigrants themselves. By sharing immigrant stories like my own, we are able to understand why for some of us, home is not the place we are born in, but rather, it's the place where we can provide and take care of not only ourselves, but also the ones we love. Thank you.