Today we’d like to introduce you to Ross Yenerich.
Hi Ross, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
So much has changed since I moved here a year ago.
Let’s start in Dallas, in mid-May.
I had just returned from a week-long trip in NYC with the SMU Temerlin Creative program which solidified my want and need to be there post-grad.
SMU at BBH USA, May 2025
I was interning as a Copywriter at Johnson & Sekin during my final semester at SMU. J&S is a small, modest creative agency in Dallas, Texas. They were respected, but I wouldn’t call the agency necessarily ambitious. I mean, I thought they were at the time, but that was before I moved to NY.
I graduated from SMU, and J&S offered me a fulltime role as a Junior Copywriter in April of 2025. I told them, respectfully, that I am still holding out for an opportunity at an ad agency in NYC. They’re good people, and understood my desires, and said I could wait a few weeks to let them know my decision. And they were respectful about it. They knew I had dreams of going to NYC, and they know how different it is from any Texas-based agency.
At the same time, I was preparing to go to Italy for 9 days from June 9. I was invited by my Creative Writing Professor Greg Brownderville to the Convivio Creative Writing Conference in Postignano, Italy on 100% scholarship.
On May 29, I received an offer from Terri & Sandy as a Copywriter Intern. I had about a week to figure things out—net out with J&S, clean my apartment, find a sublease option in NYC, pack / prepare for The City post-Convivio, and say goodbye to my Dallas friends, mentors—and both. Knowing I could do all those things, I just had two things to work out with Terri & Sandy:
I’d be starting a week late because of Convivio, and
I’d be leaving a week early because of my Human Rights scholarship trip to Peru (more on this later).
T&S were okay with these conditions, and I signed the official offer letter in the airport otw to Italy, on June 9.
I flew to Italy with everything that I would bring with me to New York. Just two suitcases and a backpack.
I had the most amazing time. That deserves a deep-dive essay in itself, but it was an amazing nine days of creativity, having my writing taken seriously, curious conversations, and free espresso in a castle in the Umbrian region right in the center of Italy. I also had the chance to perform my first live set of music. I played the Five Days in Dallas album for them before it was released.
On June 16, while in Italy still, my sublease situation in NYC fell through. The following day, without being able to find any other options, I called someone up who I wasn’t super close with: Timmy Chae. At the time, we were mostly just alumni from the same program with dreams of working in advertising in NYC. He was already doing this, and—incidentally enough—he was (and is still) working at Terri & Sandy as an Art Director. We were familiar of each other in school, and we respected each other. But we didn’t really know each other too well. We had seen each other work from a distance, but that was about it. And as for his place, he had no couch option, but he was willing to split his bed with me. He had two mattresses stacked and had his bed on the floor, so he literally cut the bed in half. But that act speaks numbers as to who the person Timmy was, and the person I would later come to know.
I arrived on Wednesday night at around midnight.
My internship had already started the Monday of that week, but Thursday was Juneteenth, and Fridays are WFH, so I just had an orientation call on Friday, and that was it. Terri & Sandy were kind to let me start a week late, because I was coming off the heels of Convivio, and they respected the program. I spent Friday, Saturday, Sunday making calls, DMing on Facebook—trying to get out of Timmy’s hair—until I stumbled on a new sublease option in Williamsburg starting for Monday night. (I remember hanging out at an art studio where Timmy was a member, and he was doing T&S work, and I was trying to find a place to sleep. It wasn’t fun at the time, but looking back, it’s a good memory. The studio was indoor/outdoor, and we were hanging outside, in the heat, going inside intermittently to charge our computers and for a smidge of relief from the fan A/C.)
I moved near S 2nd and Havemeyer in the Burg—a pretty cool area if you’re familiar with Williamsburg. I don’t actually call it the Burg, only sarcastically. Or whenever else I want. The sublease was a 2-week option. The guy I was renting from, Connor, had the space on flex, so he was just going to go back to Buffalo to hang with his parents, and make some extra money via me staying there. It was a cool area, near the Cheese Rock.
I slept in his bed, in his sheets, which he said he washed. I was sharing a bathroom with two nice fellows, but I mostly kept to myself. One was in publishing, and the other one I don’t think had any work, but was always gone. There was no A/C in my bedroom—just a window unit in the living room which was down a narrow hallway and past one other bedroom and the bathroom—so I didn’t get much (or any) of the air. And I was beginning my internship the morning of the first night I was staying there. It was madness. But there was something about it. It revived my survival instincts. My hunger. It was visceral. Sleeping uncomfortably constantly, going to work in my first NYC creative ad agency—the pinnacle of the industry—, working hard, meeting people, trying to keep cool (mentally and physically), adjusting to a new city—all of the above; it was awesome. And I was ready for it. I was hungrier than I have ever been before.
So I went to work that Monday, waking up at Timmy’s, returning to Timmy’s, and taking my things to my new place in Williamsburg.
Working at an agency like Terri & Sandy was something for which I had prepared during the last two years of my life. And it felt like I finally made it. It was cool to see things come together in the real world. And everyone at the agency was so nice and warm. And it was small, I knew everyone in just a couple weeks. I’ll never forget that. It was such a first-summer-in-NYC-experience, and I’m for real forever grateful.
There’s nothing like the first time you move to New York City. You’re here. If you can pull it off, you’ll still be here in a year. You think you will, but not everyone does. There’s so much going on. There’s people everywhere. In places you wouldn’t believe. Some are good, and some are not so good. But all of them are your neighbors. People come here for a reason. They want to be somebody. You want to be somebody. You want to do cool things. You have to work for it. This is the most upper echelon of talent, creativity, and artistry in the entire world. If you want to do something big, you’re here. And you have to be here to feel it. It’s something about the grime. The hustle. The levels of wealth you come to know in New York. There’s the ultrarich, and there’s people sleeping on the subway, with one sock and a ripped coffee-stained tanktop. There’s an infectious energy. And it fuels itself. Everybody fuels it. And you will too. Or you’ll soon leave. It takes a certain breed to be here.
In summer, the sunsets are beautiful. There’s music everywhere you walk in Manhattan. The city comes together. The parks get sooo busy. Museums become crowded. People are happy.
Taking the subway each morning to Midtown, looking up at the literal Empire State Building as I exited the subway station. Every single day. It was magical. And I loved it. I was totally inspired. I knew after those first two weeks, I had to find a way to stay here.
But I only had housing for the first two weeks. After that, my friend Timmy hooked me up with a situation actually in his apartment building on Gates Avenue in Ridgewood. It was right across the hall from him. I was able to set up my 4-inch tri-fold mattress, and that was my HQ until the end of August. It was a fun area, 4-minute walk from the Myrtle-Wychoff Station. Lots of Mexicans selling fruit on the streets. And a relatively quiet neighborhood at nights compared to S 2nd and Havemeyer. I liked it. It was new, and like nothing I have ever really seen before. Where I grew up, it was nothing like New York. Nothing at all.
The internship went on, I met some great people, made some cool work, but didn’t get a job. In fact, none of the interns got hired. That’s just how it goes sometimes. I don’t—and can’t—hold it against anybody at the agency, because that’s business. They can’t hire sometimes even if they want to. There are so many factors that come to life in the hiring process, and you can’t take it personally. Candidly, I had kind of sensed that they might not be able to hire anyone post-internship, so I had been reaching out within the industry, trying to find other connections, and other ways in to a fulltime in NYC. If I hadn’t a fulltime job by the end of August, I’d have to move back home to Milwaukee or to Dallas. I didn’t want to have to do that. In fact, if I “had to do that,” I probably would’ve resisted, and picked up shifts bartending or waiting tables, trying to find an in-industry job. But August was the deadline I had set.
Like I said, I had the Peru trip in early August. August 4-11. I left the city on August 4th, and had an incredible experience with the Kukama people and the nature in the Amazon Rainforest for the next week.
I returned on August 11, to the same apartment on Gates Avenue, but I walked in the living room to find my suitcases packed and my tri-fold mattress in the living room rather than the bedroom. Obviously wondering what was going on, I walked in the bedroom to find someone else’s things. A mattress, dresser, the works—all set up as if someone had been there for months. My stomach sank, as I had no idea what to do. No one was home. I called the guy I knew, one of the roommates, and he was actually just walking in the door.
He said I don’t need to worry, and that I can stay in the basement, because the guy who lived down there was gone. I was a little confused, but I didn’t know what else to do, so I went down there. There was nothing in writing saying I had claim to any bedroom or space in the apartment, so I took what I could get. And that happened to be a disgusting basement.
It looked like a bomb had gone off down there. There were various types of undergarments strung all around the space, a toilet that looked like it led straight to Hell, a variety of half-eaten and still-opened snacks. Prescription bottles were scattered, a tv with no remote. I didn’t want to sleep in this guy’s bed, so I put my four-inch tri-fold mattress on top of the couch. That was my sleeping setup for the next couple weeks. I tried not to touch anything in that basement.
It’s now been a week post-Peru. I tried readjusting to New York City, coming from the literal Amazon Rainforest, now living in this jerry-rigged situation in the Concrete Jungle. It was whiplash. My inner peace faded quickly after having returned to the city. It was actually difficult to adjust, and return back to normal life—and my life at this point was survival, trying to find a job that would allow me to stay.
The last week in Peru I had spent thinking about how terrible humans are, destroying other groups/parts of the world they know nothing about, spending like it’s mandatory. But I also spent the last week thinking about how humans have such capacity for Doing Good. But it’s sort of a muscle we don’t often exercise. And this world is so beautiful. We should practice exercising that muscle. Especially when we spend time in such “put-together” societies that tell us to disregard our most human instincts and emotions because of the rules that we bind upon ourselves to have “civilization” and “order.” I think there are other ways for us to thrive than whatever it is our current system is perpetuating. Maybe that makes me an extremist. I don’t really think so, though. Alas.
I had no job, was going to get kicked out, and was down to forget everything I just learned, and re-enter Capitalism. That week I spent getting coffee, sending LinkedIn DMs, writing random emails, finding numbers online and calling them—anything to get a shot at a job.
It was a Monday night when I saw Jack Westerkamp of Breaking & Entering Media’s post about looking for a Video Editor.
You know, at the time I called myself a “Writer,” but I knew I was really more than just that. I just kind of like to make things. If it happens to be writing, then let me write. But now I’ve learned to call myself a Multimedia Creative because of the different facets that my interests cover. Anyway, I reached out to Jack, and said “Sounds Like Me.”
I was to meet them Friday morning.
It was then on Wednesday night, about halfway through the month of August, when the previous basement dweller tenant texted me and said that he’ll be home in “two nights: on Friday.” I told him what was promised to me, and then I realized that wasn’t his fault. He barely had any idea I was even staying there. I had to get out of his space, as I probably wasn’t even supposed to be there at all.
I called two NYers I knew, luckily both good friends: Kailyn Sawhny and Emma Georghakis. They both offered their homes, one a bed and one a couch, and I had options to stay city-adjacent. Kailyn’s about 1.5hr upstate, and Emma’s about 45 minutes to the East—both relative to Grand Central Station.
On Friday morning, I went to B&E’s Regus shared workspace office, in Midtown (about a block from the Terri & Sandy office actually), at around 11am, they gave me a test video to edit, said to have it back by the “end of the weekend.”
I went home, packed my things, started editing the video, had to leave for Grand Central Station, made my train, continued editing on the train, and sent it back by 5pm, while still on the train on the way to Kailyn’s, and received the offer for the job by 7pm.
I’d start the next week. Divine timing yes, but also some people might have taken the whole weekend. I knew their whole schtick was speed, so I was going to show them speed, while still providing quality.
I moved into a bedroom at Kailyn’s for the next week or so. It was about an hour to Midtown, where the office was, so I’d have to wake up for the days at around 6.
I started at B&E, enjoyed it, but figured it would be a minor stepping stone on my journey. I was hired part-time, working Monday-Friday 9 AM – 1 PM, with the evenings meant for me to look for jobs as a Writer at an agency. So that’s what I did. After work, I went to work looking for more work, but I couldn’t find any. I was meeting people for coffees, applying formally, reaching out to recruiters, other creatives, and anybody I knew in the city. But nothing was opening up. I liked B&E, and they consistently asked me to do more and more work for them, so I said I was down, but said you need to pay me more (i.e. hire me fulltime), which they did.
Around the time they “promoted” me, I was staying with my friend Emma on a couch in her basement on Long Island. But since I got the fulltime offer from B&E, I was able to sign a lease in the city. I found a place in Bushwick via Facebook. One day I met one of the two roommates, Maximus, toured the place, and signed the lease two days later.
I’m so grateful to Emma, Kailyn, and Timmy for opening up their homes to me for that summer. It wouldn’t have been possible to make it here without such friends.
I had a New York apartment. The first one with my name on it. Now back to work.
The office was so small. It was hot in the summer, and just kinda yucky in the winter season. But we all did it together. Geno, Jack, Ellie, and me. It was the squad. I don’t think I’ll ever have as much fun in an office as we did during those months of August 2025 to February 2026. It was awe-inspiring. I could feel the drive, the yearning for success, the hunger within Geno & Jack every single day. And it permeated between those 4 claustrophobic walls. There are so many memories: the silliness of the 60-second news recordings (we used to have so much fun with it)—me climbing on Geno’s shoulders, breaking through the cardboard bull-style—receiving noise complaints, Chipotle runs with Ellie, joking, sooooo many inside jokes, Greeno, the awkward way I’d be editing something during a podcast recording (but trying to eavesdrop because the conversations were usually actually insightful and interesting). I can’t name them all, obviously, but, yeah, it was real startup energy. Chaotic, but motivated. It’s like BuzzFeed in 2014 type beat. Top ad execs would be in the office regularly for podcast or 60-news recordings, we’d go to agencies all over NYC, I had the chance to meet so many amazing people—and it was so much fun while doing it: making content about the whole advertising industry. It felt like we were really doing something different and changing the game. The industry needed a shakeup, and that shakeup came in the form of Breaking & Entering Media. What an opportunity at the age of 22, straight out of college besides the previous summer internship. I really couldn’t have predicted that opportunity in a million years.
B&E was hustling. We even pushed our start time to 8 AM, which remained permanent, so that we could “win” the mornings, and have more time to prepare for our content every single day. 8AM to ~6PM Monday to Friday, all in-person. It was a grind.
Within the first ten weeks I felt B&E was changing slightly, shifting away from the original mission of “helping the next generation break in and thrive in the ad industry” to “fast & fun marketing news,” which was great. But it was different. I wanted us to maintain that original mission. Geno & Jack agreed, but our bandwidths were tight, and strategically, the “fast & fun marketing news” makes wayyy more sense when building a media company. I can see that, anybody can see that. But they said that if I’m so passionate about helping the next generation, that I should do something about it. You know, Geno still does his weekly podcast recordings—which he has said that he’ll do as long as he can—and those are meant for the next generation, but Geno & Jack were pushing me to find ways to do something more concrete, with direct impact, through our social channels.
What we landed on was Student Sunday. Each Sunday, I would take a spec / student campaign and feature it on the B&E channels. The goal was to show off the smart thinking that students are doing in school, and give them a chance to be seen by the agencies, with potential for hire.
I’ve now done 31 Student Sundays, and it has been B&E’s most successful consistent series on the platforms, generating millions of views on Instagram alone. Several students have been hired by agencies, and I think that’s awesome.
And B&E kept growing, and doing more: like a social series with Dakota Rae Lowe called The Culture Corner, hiring another fulltime employee JR, moving offices, tons of agency break-ins (some in NYC, but also in Austin, San Diego, and San Francisco), and probably a crap ton more—all in the span of a couple months.
Then it was winter. Winter is harsh in New York City. It’s honestly nothing like Wisconsin in the winter. It’s harder because you can only walk once you get out of your apartment. You can’t just take the car from your driveway. You have to actually still walk at least 5 or so minutes every day. And the snow gets gross. It gets sloshy, and turns brown. People get cold, and they get sad. I went home to Wisconsin for Christmas, and learned of my mother’s cancer diagnosis, and came back in a funk.
My mom started chemotherapy in late January, so I went home to surprise her, as she started this year-long journey. My friend Ben’s dad drove me from the Chicago airport at midnight to her place in Pewaukee, where I walked to the front door, rang the doorbell, and called her. She was shocked. I was so happy to surprise her. That week, I shaved my head in solidarity, and we hung out, watched movies, and enjoyed each other’s company. We went to a few doctors appointments together, and we were in the bay together as she started her first round of chemotherapy. B&E was extremely understanding of the situation, and allowed me to WFH for the week.
She caught it early, so things seemed as hopeful as they could be, and she would be continuing the process through the year.
I was definitely in a creative funk at this time. I had been doing more business admin things for Fully Thrifted. I was the owner of an LLC, I applied for a trademark, but wasn’t really making anything new. I made an app, called Stage Left, which I’m still working on. But I hadn’t written or been inspired much during this time. I was speedrunning Super Mario Bros. when I was home, which was fun, but I wasn’t doing much in the creative realm.
It was February when we moved offices from Midtown to Wall Street. I could feel something shift. The raw startup days were in decline, and the company was maturing a bit. We started a live show—for which I was the Technical Director—and started to hit our stride with certain content series (while, of course, constantly trying new things and seeing what works). My role was shifting, and had shifted, away from a Video Editor to a Content Editor.
They trusted me more. They allowed me to write more, to direct more, and I was the guy running the live show. Ellie, JR, and I were a Squad. The Platoon. We got pretty close during this time, and we were doing things together. All the time.
I was really enjoying work. But at the same time, I could feel I wasn’t entirely fulfilled. I mean, I hadn’t built my portfolio the last two years planning to create content covering the ad industry. I was hungry to think creatively, get better at crafting concepts, and make things. But I was really enjoying B&E. And I knew there were tons of upsides. They offered lots of travel potential, and the day-to-day was so much fun. So I kept on.
Craving creativity, my roommate Max (who’s now a friend—not just a roommate) and I created a spot for Dr. Bronner’s (incidentally for the B&E Crowbar brief). And we turned Fully Thrifted from a hip-hop collective into a full blown creative collective. I applied for a trademark in October, and since then I have also been the owner of the LLC.
Then I got an email from Deacon Webster, the CCO at Walrus. He was building a junior team of creatives. Walrus doesn’t usually have creatives on staff. I had an interview and a great conversation about creativity and advertising with Deacon. That conversation made me think, Maybe I should consider really making the jump. After all, I did join B&E initially as a stepping stone. It would happen that it has meant a lot more to me than I originally thought, but I didn’t necessarily owe them anything by forcing myself to stay. I didn’t end up getting the job, but the point was, it stirred me.
Sometime in March, they hired a freelance Social Media Manager, Quincy, and she quickly integrated into the group. More on this later.
Also in March, I pitched myself going to Copenhagen. And in April, I found myself in Copenhagen, visiting with DMJX—one of Europe’s top ad schools—and visiting with industry leaders at various agencies for the week. It was fantastic that they trusted me with this, and I’m still working on the post-production for the project. I also had the chance to spend 23 hours in Iceland, and I shot two rolls of film, which I ended up losing due to incompetence with my recently-gifted Pentax K1000. So, I learned from that. And I still mourn those photos.
I returned to New York. Spring was starting, I was grinding at B&E, going out with friends, exploring the city as it sheds the winter season. Ellie, JR, Quincy and I would go out a lot. And not too long after, I found myself and Quincy going out without Ellie and JR.
Work carried on, but I found myself not fulfilled. We were preparing to bring the Live Show to Cannes, making content every day, hosting events for the industry, and staying on top of all things advertising.
On May 18, one of my best friends and Art Director partner from school Kailyn Sawhny called me. She had recently accepted a position as an Art Director intern at BBH, and she was telling me BBH was still looking for someone to fill the last slot for a Copywriting internship, and asking if I was interested and if she should throw my hat in the ring. I told her yes. I got an email a couple days later asking if I could meet, and I met with Dillon, a Senior Copywriter at BBH, on Wednesday. It went well. Got an email on Thursday asking to meet with HR, and I got my offer letter on Friday.
The internship was to start two Mondays from then, so one work week later. I accepted under the condition that my start date could be pushed back, so I could give a proper warning to Geno & Jack. BBH was alright with this, and I told Geno & Jack when I walked in at the beginning of the week.
Geno & Jack were happy for me, and understood my decision. They really were happy for me. I could tell they were caught off guard, but happy for me. We talked for a while, and it was a chat I’ll hold dear to me. They handled it well, and I feel like it was a very mature moment. We agreed to make some press for it. They had me on the Live Show, and we made the most of the situation.
It was a pay cut, which hurt a little. And I had to cancel my flight to Cannes. Ngl – it hurts seeing everyone on the beaches of Southern France.
But I know I made the right decision. How can you really justify a short-term gain over a long-term investment on self?
I started the Copywriting internship at BBH three-ish weeks ago.
B&E was the greatest segue I could have never anticipated. I was the 2nd hire, and it was a lot of fun, lo-fi, shenanigans daily, and we made real impact for the industry.
I’m so happy with what I’m doing now day-to-day. I can’t legally say (sounds more badass than it actually is), but it’s some really cool stuff. And I feel the difference at work. The job is just different. All love to B&E Media, but it’s just that: a media company. It is not a creative agency. And even when I was in peak flow state at B&E, sometime in April, I said I didn’t care to work at an ad agency ever again; I couldn’t see the appeal. But after being away from it for so long, I do miss it. I miss getting obsessed with the work. Getting wrapped up and caught knee deep in creative work. There’s something special about it. And it caught up to me.
And it’s funny. I’ve always championed the small indie agency. And I now work at one of the Big Three HoldCo’s, where there are 110,000 employees globally. There’s 1,000 or so at BBH alone. But the “big ad company” is not what public sentiment has made it out to be. It’s awesome. There’s an infectious energy when you’re walking around the offices, between the floors, sipping a free oat iced latte from Coffee Joe’s downstairs. (Yes, there’s free coffee.) Everyone is so smart. Everyone’s so quick, and everyone’s so friendly. They work really hard, and they make amazing work. It’s big, sure, but behind all that, it’s all people. What’s not to love? Plus, the view is crazy. It’s incredible every single day. Everyone comes in and wants to make damn amazing work. Work that pushes the needle. Because we’ve seen the people within these walls do it before us—make history. It happened right here. It’s BBH, it’s one of the best. Levi’s 1982. You zig, we zag. It’s bad ass as f***. Sorry, grandpa, if you’re reading this.
It was scary, though. I quit my fulltime job for an internship. In 7 weeks, I may be cut loose. I hope to God not, and I’m going to show them they’d be fools if that happens, because I’ll end up elsewhere. But my goal is to have in my inbox an offer letter as a Junior Copywriter at BBH.
It’s a weird dynamic. I’m in the same “position” as I was one year ago, a Copywriter Intern, but I’m coming at it with a whole new perspective, new experiences, and new context for life. But I don’t view it as a setback, it’s all part of the journey.
I’m still freelancing at B&E, continuing Student Sunday for the foreseeable future. Since I’ve built that series, it made sense for me to continue. So that’s what’s up.
A few years from now, I hope to turn Fully Thrifted into a larger creative collective, and be able to put work out and do my own thing through that name.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
When Ross Yenerich graduated from SMU in May 2025 with a major in Creative Advertising, he didn’t take the safe route. Instead of settling into a full-time job with benefits in Dallas, he chose uncertainty, creativity, and a one-way ticket to New York City.
Less than a year later, he’s helping build one of the advertising industry’s most talked-about media brands from the inside.
Taking the Risk
Just days after graduation, Ross was offered a full-time position at Johnson & Sekin in Dallas. He turned it down.
Instead, he chose a six-week copywriting internship at Terri & Sandy in New York City, foregoing stability for experience. It was a leap rooted in conviction. Earlier that spring, an SMU Creative program trip to NYC had confirmed what he already suspected: New York was where he wanted to be.
Before heading to Manhattan, Ross spent nine days in Postignano, Italy at the Convivio Creative Writing Conference with Professor Greg Brownderville. Surrounded by writers, poets, and songwriters, he workshopped his writing, reflected on philosophy and creativity, and performed a 10-minute live set of his original work – his first official “concert.” That performance would later precede the release of his album on August 4th 2025.
Then came New York.
From June through August 2025, Ross worked as one of four creative interns at Terri & Sandy, contributing to brands like Freshpet, My/Mochi, BJ’s Wholesale Club, and Welch’s Fruit Snacks.
But in mid-August, the internship ended, and no interns were hired.
Within days of returning from a Human Rights trip to Peru, Ross found himself without a job, without a permanent apartment, and on the brink of having to leave New York altogether. He was bouncing between subleases and couches, scrambling to stay afloat.
“It was extreme placidness to chaos in the blink of an eye,” he reflects.
A New Chapter at Breaking & Entering Media
On August 18th 2025, Ross met Jack and Geno in person at Breaking & Entering Media (B&E). After editing a trial video, he was offered a part-time role, leaving afternoons open to continue his job search.
But two weeks later, on September 2nd, he made another pivotal decision: he stopped looking.
He went full-time at B&E.
Now one of just two full-time employees, Ross helps build the brand daily: editing content, developing programming, and celebrating the advertising industry while competing with major trade publications. He has launched initiatives like ‘Student Sunday’, oversees much of the social content, and plays a central role in shaping the platform’s voice.
At industry events, Ross and his coworker Ellie are often the youngest people in the room, yet frequently the most recognized. Amid mergers, layoffs, and holding company shakeups, B&E has become a bright spot in the industry, and Ross is at the center of it.
He describes the experience as invaluable. Even if it ended tomorrow, he says, he’d be grateful and confident he could land on his feet.
But he hopes it doesn’t end anytime soon.
“I want to keep building everything here,” he says. “I see it becoming something really big.”
First day at B&E
Travel That Transformed Perspective
Travel has shaped Ross’s creative and moral compass in profound ways.
In January 2025, he traveled to Poland with SMU’s Human Rights Program to study the Holocaust. The experience left an indelible mark. He kept a journal, shot film photography, and is now developing a large-scale photojournalistic book combining prose, poetry, historical context, and his original images.
“It means more to me than I can write in this blog,” he says.
In August 2025, he traveled to the Peruvian Amazon with the SMU Human Rights Program, collaborating with local communities and studying people-centered climate resilience efforts supporting Indigenous Kukama communities. Moving from New York’s concrete jungle to the Amazon rainforest (and back again) offered perspective few experiences could replicate.
“The people were some of the poorest in physical wealth, but the richest in life,” he reflects. “It was a reminder of how simple life can be – and how often we overcomplicate it.”
Most remarkably, nearly all of these opportunities (from Poland to Italy to Peru) were funded through SMU programs and support.
A Project That Says It All
If Ross had to choose one project that represents his ethos, it would be his Polaroid campaign, created alongside Kailyn Sawhny and Mark Allen.
What began as a brand assignment evolved into a philosophical exploration of ephemerality, permanence, and memory. Through long debates about overconsumption and digital overload, the team crafted a campaign centered on slowing down, on capturing something tangible in a world obsessed with speed.
“It’s a reminder that we don’t need to be overconsumed by the rapidness of digital technology,” Ross says. “By going slower, we might actually remember things better.”
The campaign encapsulates much of what drives him: intentionality, reflection, and depth.
The Power of TAI
Ross credits SMU’s Temerlin Advertising Institute, and professors like Cheryl, Willie, and Mark for sharpening both his craft and his thinking.
He points especially to Mark Allen’s graduate-level course Creativity, Art, & Problem-Solving as transformative.
The semester-long exploration of the question “What is Art?” refined Ross’s taste and taught him to think critically about culture, creativity, and meaning. It also reframed how he sees his career.
“I feel like ‘Advertising’ limits what I like,” he says. “It’s really just creativity. Making things. I like to write. I like to take photos. I just like to make things.”
His path wasn’t linear. Ross began at SMU studying Computer Science before stepping away, returning, exploring English and Graphic Design, and ultimately applying to the Creative program. The NYC trips with TAI became his favorite memories, and the turning point that clarified his future.
Looking Ahead
Now six months into his role at B&E, Ross hopes to take on even more responsibility and further integrate himself into the company’s growth. He also has personal creative goals in motion.
He’s working steadily on his Poland book, watching films, reading history, and refining his manuscript. He’s building his photography presence online. He’s committed to scrolling less and posting more – creating, iterating, improving.
His larger goal?
“To help people think about things more seriously in a world that likes to move past things in a heartbeat.”
Advice for Current TAI Students
Ross keeps it simple:
Put in the work.
Say no to distractions when necessary.
Take advantage of office hours.
Be genuinely curious.
“Professors just want to see students who care,” he says. “If you don’t care, talk to them about that. Ask real questions.”
For Ross, success hasn’t come from chasing comfort. It’s come from chasing meaning – through risk, travel, creativity, and a willingness to bet on himself.
And for now, New York City is exactly where he’s meant to be.
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
I did not always know I wanted to be a writer. I just knew I liked making things.
When I studied Computer Science, it was not because I loved coding. It was because I loved building.
I loved computers, the possibilities they opened, and the freedom to create whatever I could imagine. I spent
hours editing photos, designing graphics, streaming games, making videos — not because anyone asked me
to, and not because I thought it could ever become a career. It was just what I loved to do. It took me a while
to realize there were real ways to build a life out of creating – that the instinct I had, to make things that
connect to people, could be more than just a hobby. It could be a purpose.
That realization led me to the intersection of creativity and meaning, where I feel most at home.
At Southern Methodist University’s Temerlin Advertising Institute, I discovered how storytelling, strategy, and
advocacy could come together. I learned creative work could move culture, not just products. Advertising
and storytelling can challenge perceptions, and get people to think twice. That lesson shaped my Special
Olympics campaign, as well as my interest in cause-driven projects that reach beyond commercial goals.
During my time abroad with Feref in London, I worked on campaigns for brands like Netflix, Disney+, and
Heineken, seeing firsthand how global narratives are shaped.
I interned at Johnson & Sekin in Dallas in spring 2025,
where I contributed to creative campaigns for purpose-driven brands like Local Hive Honey and EIGHT beer, as well
as for universities like Baylor. Working at an agency that values cause-based branding has reinforced my
belief that creativity should not just sell; it should serve. The work is sharper when it has heart behind it.
I moved to NYC in June 2025, interned as a copywriter at Terri & Sandy, an independent creative agency, bounced from sublet to sublet, friend’s couches, and didn’t get a job at the end of it. I had a 2-week window before I’d have to move back home to Wisconsin or Dallas. I found Breaking & Entering Media, a media company that covers the advertising industry, and contributed significantly as the 2nd hire, for about 10 months. I saw it shape and shift, but ultimately, it wasn’t what I wanted to do. I wanted to create conceptual advertising campaigns (at least in the short-term). So I quit, in June, and I started interning at BBH USA, one of the top advertising agencies historically and currently. I am 2 weeks from finding out if I’ve earned an offer, but I’ve sold a script, have contributed significantly for many clients, and vibes are high.
Still, the experience that changed me most did not happen inside a classroom or an agency. It happened on
the frozen ground in Poland. This January, I traveled across the country on a human rights pilgrimage, visiting
Auschwitz, Belzec, and other sites of memory and loss. I witnessed how language, when used carelessly or
cruelly, can shape violence. I saw how silence — institutional, generational, collective — can deepen wounds
and erase stories. I learned that memory is not something we inherit. It’s something we have to protect.
I learned words have weight, and that how we communicate shapes what we value.
Poland didn’t just deepen my understanding of history; it clarified my sense of direction.
I don’t just want to be a creative. I want to be a steward of stories. I want to use language, photography, and
human-centered thinking to amplify voices that deserve to be heard. I want to create work that doesn’t just
resonate, but reflects care, context, and conscience.
Throughout my academic journey, my advertising and photography work has been recognized over 50
times by organizations like the American Advertising Federation, The One Club for Creativity, Graphis, and
the Dallas Society of Visual Communications. These honors are affirming, but they are not the goal. They’re
reminders that thoughtful, culturally attuned work still matters. That when you create with intention, people
notice. And when you create with humanity, people feel it. That’s the standard I hold my work to.
Looking forward, I want to keep building a life rooted in curiosity, empathy, and creative expression. I want to
keep learning from people who don’t think like me. I want to live internationally, create collaboratively, and
contribute intentionally. I want to keep walking into unfamiliar places with open eyes and an open notebook.
I want to leave every room, and every project, better than I found it.
Whether through writing, photography, or forms I haven’t met yet, I want to stay open. I want to keep listening.
Because at the core, I’m still that same person: someone who likes making things.
But now, I know why.
What’s next?
Fully Thrifted. Fully Thrifted is what I want to do going forward. It’s an ethos of life. It’s a way of living. It’s the idea of taking what’s old and repurposing it for the present, and for going forward. Yes, with clothes, with music and sampling, but also personality-wise, and psychologically. Leaving the bad parts of you behind, and moving forward with the good. Always evolving, and always improving. That’s what life is. And that’s the lens through which I live it. It’s a hip-hop-turned-creative collective. It began in May of 2024, shortly after I joined the ad program in Dallas, when I started to feel myself. I decided on the name, and ran with it. I’ve released several musical projects through the name (including my album “Milwaukee Made Me / Wisconsin Went Worldwide” and my EP “Five Days in Dallas.” We rep other artists from the same diaspora as me, whether from WI, TX, or somewhere in between. It’s now more than hip-hop, and it’s turned to serve my other creative interests and passions – like advertising, photography, and studio art. My goal is to keep doing spec work for brands, build a brand for Fully Thrifted itself, and turn it into something bigger. Something like an Uncommon Creative Studio, or a pgLang.
I want to focus on photography, writing, telling stories of humans, and creating more work. Just dedicating time to creating. It’s a struggle sometimes, with all the distractions of life. But it’s important to remember what you’re here for. What your purpose is. And mine is to make things.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://rosswhy.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rosswhyross
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/rosswhy
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@rosswhy
- Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/rosswhy
