Join the Team: How Emotional Intelligence (EQ) Drives the Culture at Raising Sand Studio
- Raising Sand Studio | Official

- Jul 10
- 6 min read
We choose to work with emotionally intelligent humans, and that is entirely on purpose. Whether you're applying as an intern, freelancer, or future team member, our culture is built on the belief that great work begins with self-awareness, empathy, and the ability to connect on a deeper level.
We’re not here to clock in, punch out, and churn out content. We're here to tell stories that move people, launch brands that mean something, and collaborate in ways that feel deeply human. That means emotional intelligence (EQ) is at the core of how we hire, lead, and grow.
Why Emotional Intelligence Matters Here
We don’t simply talk about emotional intelligence—we build entire projects, teams, and client relationships around it. This is the difference between “checking the box” and creating something that genuinely moves people.
The data supports this philosophy. According to research from TalentSmart, emotional intelligence is responsible for 58% of performance across all job types, and people with high EQ earn an average of $29,000 more annually than their lower-EQ counterparts.
Empathy isn’t an add-on, but the engine behind genuine, authentic storytelling.
It looks like a content strategist stopping mid-outline to say, "This feels too polished—where’s the tension? Where’s the part they’re scared to say out loud?”
It’s a podcast editor leaving in a moment of silence—not because it was dramatic, but because it was true.
It’s a copywriter rewriting a CTA because the first one sounded like a brand, but the second one sounded like a real person, someone you might even know.
It feels like holding your breath while reading something you wrote, wondering if it might be too honest, and choosing to hit publish anyway.
It feels like sitting with the discomfort of someone else’s story until you can tell it without turning it into a performance.
It doesn’t look like lifting a headline from a competitor’s campaign and tweaking two words.
It doesn’t feel like checking for “on-brand voice” while missing the point entirely.
Here, empathy isn’t a buzzword—it’s the lens that we choose to see the world. Much like a pulse, this lens forms the unspoken contract between storyteller and subject.
Alright—We'll Get to the Point: According to the Harvard Business Review, emotionally resonant content performs up to twice as well as content focused solely on logic. Here, emotion is not a risk—it’s the most reliable bridge we have between message and meaning.
Communication is an emotional and verbal skill.
It looks like hearing what wasn’t said in a client debrief—and circling back later to say, “I noticed your tone shifted when we mentioned the direction—want to revisit that together?”It’s watching a teammate freeze in a meeting and quietly messaging, “I’ve got your back. Want me to take this part?”It’s sensing when someone’s overwhelmed—not because they told you—but because the tempo of their typing changed and the exclamation points disappeared.
It feels like being seen in your mess, not just your polish.
It feels like someone is tracking your emotional weather even when you don’t post the forecast.
It doesn’t look like solving for speed when the moment calls for stillness.
It doesn’t feel like masking discomfort with faux-positivity or charging ahead because "the brief doesn’t care about feelings.”
At Raising Sand Studio, communication isn’t just about what we transmit—it’s about what we tune into. It’s about checking the emotional current before we wade in. Here, presence is the unspoken language that shapes everything we build together.
Alright—We'll Get to the Point: A study in the Journal of Organizational Behavior found that teams with high collective EQ have a stronger ability to adapt under pressure and make better decisions in ambiguity. They create environments where trust, resilience, and creative risk can actually exist. Because when people feel emotionally safe, the work becomes braver.
Communication isn’t just what you say—it’s how you listen (or don't).
It looks like noticing when someone’s gone quiet during a team brainstorm and gently asking, “You’ve been quiet—anything you're holding back?”
It’s replying to a messy Slack thread not with a fix, but with, “Hey, I know this is frustrating—want to hop on a call and sort through it together?”It’s reading between the lines of a late-night message and saying, “Take a breath—we can regroup tomorrow.”
It feels like slowing down long enough to let people catch up. Like knowing when someone needs clarity and when they need some intentionally placed kindness. It feels like being trusted with silence, not just speech.
It doesn’t look like dominating the meeting with your best idea while missing the tension behind someone else’s face.
It doesn’t feel like replying with “haha got it” when what you really meant was:
“Oof, that hit—can we talk more about it?”
Here, communication is relational, not performative. We don’t just speak. We sense. We don’t just respond. We receive.
Alright—We'll Get to the Point: Research from the Journal of Organizational Behavior shows that teams with high collective emotional intelligence are not only more adaptable and creative under pressure—they’re also more likely to build trust that lasts. And in creative work, trust is the difference between playing it safe and making something that actually matters.
What We Look For
Yes, we care about your skills—your writing instincts, your eye for design, your ability to shape strategy that doesn’t just look good but work. But tools can be taught. Templates can be downloaded. What we’re really looking for lives underneath the résumé.
It looks like someone who says, “That one’s on me—let me fix it,” before being asked.
It’s a collaborator who doesn’t rush to answer, but instead says, “Can we sit with that question a little longer?”
It’s a creative who leads with “What if?” and listens harder when the room gets quiet.
It feels like confidence that doesn’t need to be the loudest in the room.
It feels like curiosity with a backbone.
It feels like someone who already knows their voice matters and uses it in service of something bigger than their own ego.
It doesn’t look like perfection.
It doesn’t feel like performance.
We’re not interested in who’s the quickest to impress. We’re drawn to the ones who notice what’s missing, who ask why it matters, and who care deeply about what their work makes people feel.
Because here, being technically skilled is just the beginning. Being human? That’s the part we can’t teach.
EQ in Action: Internships That Go Deeper
This isn’t the kind of internship where you fetch coffee, sit in Zoom purgatory, and leave with a bullet point that says “helped with branding.”Here, you’ll leave with clarity about how you work, why you work that way, and how to grow without burning out or blending in.
It appears to be a weekly check-in where you’re asked how you're, not just what you've finished.It’s a voice memo from your mentor saying, “That hesitation in your pitch? Let's unpack it—there's something powerful under there.”
It’s a monthly coaching session where leadership isn’t about climbing ladders, but rather, clearing emotional clutter.
It feels like finally connecting the dots between your creative instincts and your communication style.
It feels like being challenged and seen at the same time.
It doesn’t look like busywork.
It doesn’t feel like playing professional dress-up for six weeks.
Interns here engage with emotional intelligence the way it was meant to be used: as a tool for storytelling, team-building, decision-making, and self-leadership.
You’ll write from your heart, speak from your center, and work in a space where what you feel is part of what makes you valuable.
Because this internship doesn’t just shape your résumé—it shapes your voice.
If This Feels Like You, You Might Already Belong
We don’t build teams just to get the job done. We build teams that feel like something—that make the work better, the conversations deeper, and the growth real and palpable. Emotional intelligence isn’t a bonus here. It’s the baseline from which we draw all inspiration.
It looks like a teammate who gives feedback that lands like a question, not a blow.
It feels like speaking up and making space all at the same time. Owning your brilliance without forgetting that we all have blind spots.
It sounds like: “This is what I’m proud of. This is what I’m still learning.”
We’re drawn to people who want clarity and depth, who can hold creative tension without folding due to societal norms that encourage us to do the opposite.
People who see leadership as relational, not positional.
People who think fast but know how to slow down when it matters.
If you're ready to bring your voice, vulnerability, and biggest ideas to the table—take a breath.
Trust yourself.
And apply.
We'll save you a seat.








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