I’m Drake Mayo, and if you knew where I started, you might be surprised I’ve ended up here—channeling my passion for visual storytelling into strategic, results-driven work. Growing up, my family and I didn’t have much. We faced real hardships that shaped my character but never limited my potential. Long before I knew terms like “brand strategy” or “stakeholder engagement,” I realized a pen, a page, and a story could open entire worlds of possibility.
As a kid, Saturday nights were sacred. I’d stay up past midnight, immersed in anime on Toonami’s Midnight Run. While the world slept, I sketched comic characters, mapped out entire universes, and choreographed elaborate fight scenes. I wasn’t just doodling; I was crafting narratives—learning to convey emotion, action, and pacing visually. Without formal training, I taught myself the basics of sequential art and perspective, discovering how each panel guided a viewer’s understanding from one moment to the next.
Those late-night sessions taught me something crucial: visuals connect the dots in ways words alone sometimes can’t. Even when my ambitions shifted—first aiming to become an architect, then pivoting to graphic design—I always returned to the idea that a well-crafted image or sequence can transform how people perceive complex ideas. Over time, I refined these skills at UNC Charlotte, taking on every poster and campaign I could find. That’s when I realized design wasn’t just about “making things pretty”—it was about shaping perception and inspiring action.
Driven by a desire to make a broader impact, I headed to graduate school, but the transition was tough. After moving to a new town where I knew no one, I found myself juggling my studies with a demanding temporary job at Parks and Recreation. I vividly remember sitting in a CiCi’s Pizza, feeling discouraged by grad school pressures and the burden of that side job, when an unexpected phone call from the Associate Provost changed everything. After seeing a poster I'd designed for a classmate, they offered me a graduate assistantship in social media and graphic design. That moment reshaped my view of design, teaching me that visuals are connectors—drawing people toward opportunities and mutual understanding.
Eager to push this concept even further, I joined the Peace Corps in Kyrgyzstan, focusing on community radio campaigns designed to improve access to critical information for marginalized groups. Recognizing that straightforward visuals and relatable narratives could bridge language and cultural barriers, I combined concise radio segments with clear infographics, bilingual materials, and approachable visuals. This approach helped us earn local trust and transformed potentially overwhelming or misunderstood information into accessible and actionable knowledge. Later, when I transitioned into the Peace Corps’ communications office, I applied this same story-driven strategy more broadly—countering rumors, dispelling misinformation, and highlighting genuine community successes. These experiences confirmed that thoughtful design combined with compelling storytelling can effectively unite communities, even in situations where misconceptions run deep.
I carried these insights into subsequent roles with NGOs and eventually Google, where I focus on community development and social impact. No matter the setting—rural village or tech giant—the principles remain the same: people respond to stories that feel authentic and visually compelling. It traces back to those childhood nights sketching worlds on cheap printer paper, scene by scene, learning how to captivate an audience’s imagination.
Today, I’m committed to helping individuals and organizations harness visual storytelling not just for aesthetics, but to solve real problems, build trust, and drive meaningful outcomes. If you’d like to know more about how we can combine design and strategic communication to transform ideas into impact, feel free to explore my portfolio, check out my upcoming book, or drop me a line. Ultimately, I believe every story—like every sketch—can reshape how we see the world, one panel at a time.