“I REMEMBER THIS ONE TIME WITH DEBORAH MORRISON...”

BY ALIXANDRA RUTNIK ON JUL 08, 2024

Get to know our Creative Hall of Fame laureates with stories from their friends and colleagues

The Creative Hall of Fame has a rich history dating back 60 years that has honored more than 225 men and women in advertising, design, branding, illustration, photography, typography, and education. And this September 5, we will be adding nine more incredible individuals to that list, alongside recognizing the Type Directors Club’s TDC Medalist. You’ll want to grab your tickets and tables today!

In celebrating these nine inductees, we wanted to move away from simply posting their work and many accomplishments, and instead get the inside scoop from their friends and colleagues. We gave them each the prompt “I remember this one time when...” and encouraged them to share stories from the laureates’ pasts. They could be funny, poignant, a little bit embarrassing — or even all three!

Our first three featured laureates — Bob Barrie, Steve Sandstrom, and Bob Isherwood — are renowned for their careers as creatives in advertising and design. This week, however, an educator steps into the spotlight: the incomparable Deborah Morrison, Distinguished professor of Advertising at the University of Oregon. Over the past few decades at both UO and the University of Texas at Austin, Deborah has helped guide the careers of countless industry professionals, through an evolving and wholly unique curriculum that has taken students out of the classroom and atop a windswept Alaskan glacier or a landfill in Ghana.

Deborah’s passion for creativity and activism has left an indelible mark on our industry, which is why a number of friends have happily shared their stories with us below.

RACHEL HOWALD FOUNDER, INVISIBLE MAN

I have known Deborah Morrison since 1992, when I was a grad student at UT. I’ve been her student, her TA, her couch-surfing house guest after my lease ran out (during which time I folded many a pair of her sons’ tiny Batman undies (truth be told, I’ve seen all three very young Morrison boys buck naked, happy as clams, running freely, and been peed on by at least one of them), drunk-dialed her late to tell her about someone’s haircut (which she patiently listened to at the time and then never let me forget), hugged her at my wedding, housed more than one Morrison adult son for holidays or NYC study sessions, named her in my will as the guardian of my own kids when they were born, and used her as a constant sounding board and source of career, parenting, marriage, and all-around life advice from the time I was a junior copywriter right up through today as CEO of my own agency.

In short,  I’ve seen Deborah Morrison go through decades of the best and worst that life can throw at a person — births, deaths, marriages (not her own — that was shortly after the invention of dirt and she and Dan will be the last couple standing at Armageddon), cross-country moves, health issues, kid drama, aging parent challenges, and every manner of chaos, crisis, celebration, and change. And I’ll be damned, but that woman is un-fucking*-daunted. She does not give up hope for a better world and does not give up helping to make it happen. She is either the craziest mofo on Earth (doubtful, as the planet seems overrun by nuttiness these days) or is that rarest of rarities: a ceaseless believer in humanity’s better self. She is a champion of What Is Right. In the grandest, most cosmic sense of Right and Wrong. She takes the high ground and stands up for justice, for fairness, for honesty, for truth, and for the greatest power in the universe: love. She loves deeper, harder, and longer than anyone I have ever met. She loves the planet and every living thing on it. She loves her family. She loves her students. She loves her fellow truthtellers in academia and industry. She loves her lifelong friendships, many of which pre-date the Nixon administration. She loves the people she’s met in distant countries and those just down the street. She loves one of the worst dogs in canine history. She loves cooking. She loves growing things — both plants and people. She loves creating. She loves ideas. And she loves making a difference.

“She is either the craziest mofo on Earth (doubtful, as the planet seems overrun by nuttiness these days) or is that rarest of rarities: a ceaseless believer in humanity’s better self.”

After more than thirty years, I don’t remember “this one time” with Deborah. But I do remember all the times for that one thing they had in common: the power of love always hard at work, changing the world.

(*language for Deborah-approved emphasis)

A photo I took of Deborah just minutes after she gave birth to Max in 1994.

DOUGLAS DAVIS STRATEGIST, PROFESSOR & AUTHOR, CREATIVE STRATEGY AND THE BUSINESS OF DESIGN

Deep in the Oregon timber lives a red-headed siren whose mojo is so magnetic that I seriously considered moving my family from Brooklyn. Deborah Morrison is the siren’s name, and as you know, the possibility of working with her was more than worth the literal crazy talk of leaving the place I love. For those of you who know me, my whole career has been here in Brooklyn, since moving here in 98’. Though I cheat on it from time to time, I love New York and fast forward, I’m in Eugene with a realtor. I’m running multiple scenario analyses with a financial advisor, posting in the Eugene sub-Reddit inquiring about schools, asking each faculty member at the University of Oregon’s School of Journalism and Communications(SOJC) a zillion questions. I was honored to bring what I do as SOJC’s Executive in Residence and yes, the premise of a graduate advertising program to help students lead brands in defining responsible action is compelling. I saw an opportunity to bring what I do to an undergraduate program with an existing Creative Strategist model. Yes, the possibility of focusing my energy on equipping the next generation of creatives and strategists to influence brands from within excited me.  And yes, the thought of moving my family to a less diverse environment scared me to death, and still the possibility of working with THE Deb Morrison piqued my fear of missing better options.

If you’re reading this, you’re used to explaining what we do. But if you’re an industry creative, I need you to appreciate how difficult it is to be an effective idea person within the Ivory Tower. I’ll say it like this, If the profession changes with the maneuverability of a speedboat, academia changes course at the rate of an aircraft carrier. This is where disruption makes what is complicated for the boardroom potentially out of reach for the classroom. Take the process of recognizing new trends in the industry, writing a new course, getting it department approved, sending it to a university senate curriculum committee, making changes, having it approved, and then offering that course can take up to a year or more. It’s Game of Gnomes. In this reality, the curriculum and the frame of reference that inspired it, is a shadow of what the industry was vs a reflection of what the industry is.

That said, Deborah Morrison’s vision to help creatives approach their roles as strategists develops talent while inspiring her peers. I’d argue that it’s innovative to weave strategy into the way creatives are developed, but Deb asks them to be brave, be responsible, and to use that as their mojo. I had never heard anyone speak like that much less define these new values to instill in the next generation of creatives. Deborah Morrison’s work has helped me understand that to survive the climate crisis, we’ll need to imagine the future, learn from our past and recognize what is possible to address in the present. In this way, she’s blended the boardroom and classroom by teaching the teachers like myself. It’s my opinion that Deb’s impact reaches far beyond education and advertising because as a public university educator, she’s increasing the variety of voices making a living with their imagination. Though I ultimately didn’t leave my post at the foot of the Brooklyn Bridge, when Deborah Morrison has an idea the world listens.

“It’s my opinion that Deb’s impact reaches far beyond education and advertising because as a public university educator, she’s increasing the variety of voices making a living with their imagination.”

TRACY WONG CHAIRMAN & ECD, WONGDOODY

In the 18 years I’ve known Deb Morrison, I’ve witnessed so many interactions, conversations, events that involve Deb – in her office, in hallways, in big important board meetings or at big important ceremonies — with students, graduates, alums, academic colleagues, industry moguls, university big wigs and billionaire donors.  So, it’s hard for me to pick just one story that encapsulates how passionate and exceptional and visionary and compassionate Deb really is. 

So, I’ll focus on the one thing that is a true reflection of who Deb Morrison is: her office. 

When you first walk into Deb’s smallish office space on the University of Oregon campus, your first impression is, “Wow, there’s a lot of crap in here.”  The vibe will remind you of an old, dark, Harry Potteresque magic shop full of ancient texts, wands, spells, potions, talismans, amulets and such.  It’s not messy per se.  Okay, maybe by some people’s standards.  But to Deb, everything is perfectly organized and arranged so she can find what she needs instantly.

Scanning the room, certain objects begin to announce themselves and tell you a rich story of their owner.

Posters, cards, placards and mementos - some beautifully designed, some handwritten, some torn out of who-knows-what - each chock full of Yoda-like wisdom.  Certainly, enough wisdom to fill an entire library on the planet Ahch-To (the ancient birthplace of the Jedi Order and home of its ancient traditions). 

Hundreds of books, magazines and journals on creativity, design, strategy, art, marketing, culture, brain science and technology - in stacks, on shelves, piled up in corners.  A librarian’s nightmare.  But ask any student in need of inspiration who walks in, and without looking, Deb will reach behind her and pluck out exactly what that they need. 

“...ask any student in need of inspiration who walks in, and without looking, Deb will reach behind her and pluck out exactly what that they need.”

Student portfolios full of dreams and aspirations, some freshly executed, some left by graduates to help light the way for others.  But every one of them infused with Deb’s spiritual imprint. 

So many impressive certificates, shiny awards and gaudy medals sandwiched between papers or forgotten in drawers, not out of disrespect, but for a lack of ego and the fact that she has simply run out of space for them.

Research papers and scientific journals on the ravaging effects of climate change that feed a working draft of a book which will serve as a hammer to beat down the doors of corporate overlords and mega-agency moguls who have done little with their power to alter the course of the planet’s most pressing issue.  

Dozens, if not hundreds of letters of gratitude from former students, among them current industry leaders, as well as WNBA and NFL stars who have become household names. 

And filling one entire wall, a magnificent mosaic of Post-it notes arranged in perfect color-coded columns.  They are the future curriculum for the entire School of Journalism & Communication, representing four separate majors.  From a student’s very first day on campus all the way through degree completion four years later.  But this mosaic, years in the making, is more than just a list of courses and requirements.  It is a vision for how Deb plans to give students the power to lead their industries for the next 30 years. 

I hope you enjoyed this brief tour of Deb’s office.  Don’t be mad if her shiny new One Club Educators Hall of Fame trophy gets used as a doorstop.  It’s not personal.  Deb’s got stuff to do.

GLENN COLE FOUNDER & CHAIRMAN, 72ANDSUNNY

Admittedly, my introduction to the world of Deborah Morrison was a bit selfish. I graduated from the University of Oregon before Deborah took over the program, and at first, I would travel up to my alma mater to try and get a lead on the best students to hire for 72andSunny. You know what I mean; donate some money to the school, and maybe they’d point out one or two students we could scoop up before other agencies got to them. After all, this was a portfolio development program, and we were looking for some solid portfolios.

I quickly learned that with Deborah at the helm, this was becoming far more than just a portfolio program. Ever the “zagger,” Deborah had other plans. The students were charting their values and interests on charts, graphs, and collages straight out of A Beautiful Mind — everything but traditional advertising. It was fascinating and compelling, and I knew I wanted to be more involved, to do more than just snap up fresh talent for our agency.

So, after some time, I approached Deborah to ask how we could be of more help. She said, “Well, I have this idea for professional development that is going to be very difficult for the powers that be at a public university to understand.” She explained that the university’s focus — and most of its funding — was in the sciences, and she had an idea to blend the artistic and commercial visions of her students with the school’s science needs.

“I wanna get up on a glacier,” she said.

“Hmm… tell me more.”

Deborah wanted to take a group of students and teachers to a glacier in Cordova, Alaska, to use their creative skills to tell the story of nature and climate change—the very issues the science students were working hard to study and solve. She needed my support in convincing the school that this was a good idea.

“I wanna get up on a glacier,” she said. “Hmm… tell me more.”

I didn’t have to lie; I thought it was an incredible idea and did whatever I could to help her package it for the dean.

Today, that program is called “Science & Memory,” based on the belief that the memory of the entire planet, far beyond humanity, is locked inside the glacier ice. The students who participated in the program gave me a better sense of what they could bring to the industry than most students' traditional advertising portfolios. The level of experimentation has been unmatched, and that is really something our industry needs. John Boiler—my 72andSunny co-founder and fellow University of Oregon alum—created foundations to keep this program going, and we’ve always been amazed at its results.

Deborah is just the kind of person to drop creative-minded students into an alien environment and have them figure things out. Isn’t that what we say we do in our industry, that we are problem solvers? Deborah has found a way to shape the best problem solvers I have ever seen, and she’s doing it at a public university. That in itself is crazier than putting creatives on a glacier, and it just goes to show you how she envisions teaching. Deborah doesn’t just teach students; she transforms them. And in turn they transform... well I was going to say ‘our industry,’ but it might not be too crazy to say ‘our world.’ 

KATHY HEPINSTALL PARKS EXECUTIVE CREATIVE DIRECTOR

I remember once, when I lived in Austin and so did the Morrisons, driving up to their house one afternoon.

Deborah and Dan were in their front yard, having a passionate argument about a Stephen King passage.

That is the Deborah (and Dan) I love.