A thoughtful and useful blog post by Shutterstock about improving representation of Black people in photography reminded me of something that happened when I was a junior at Westminster College — a small liberal arts school in New Wilmington, Pa. — more than 25 years ago. As I walked out of a dorm the college’s marketing officer nabbed me to participate in a photo shoot on the campus quad. It was me (a white guy), a white woman, a white man who used a wheelchair, and a Black man, who happened to be one of only a handful of Black students enrolled at Westminster at the time.

Back then I viewed it as a cynical attempt to portray the college as something it wasn’t, to show diversity where none truly existed. That’s a perspective steeped in privilege: I got to take for granted that I would be welcome at Westminster; my Black classmate — who was a leader on campus — likely had to take it on faith, and his presence in that promotional photo might have signaled to other Black students that they, too, would be welcome. Same goes for the student who used a wheelchair. (Of course, there are plenty of places where women aren’t welcome, then and now, but at small liberal arts colleges, they often outnumber men, and that was true at Westminster.)

There is something else I didn’t consider then, and only really understood after I became a strategic communications professional: Marketing is aspirational. When we produce web sites, advertisements, social media posts, brochures, etc., we are presenting an idealized version of ourselves to the public. Please note: “idealized” does not equate to “false.” If we are ethical, we do not make untrue claims, and if we are smart, we don’t make promises we know our brand is incapable of keeping. But good marketing, while honest, portrays our best selves, who we most desire to be, even knowing — and maybe even acknowledging — that we may fall short. Marketing doesn’t just tell the world who we are. It tells the world who we want to be.

So as you think about the story you want to tell in those videos, in those photos, in those web sites and postcards and everything in between, don’t just ask who you are. Ask who you want to be.