Sunday Scribble #14: Winning my first ever grant and what it taught me about audacity

If not me then who?

I say ‘first ever’ because I now know for sure that there will be many more. And that might make me sound a little pompous and overconfident, high on my own supply even, but heck the inverse, worry, insecurity and inhaling the negativity from others’ doubts would be worse, possibly lethal. So I have chosen to lean in to my own brand of ego-boosting self-assuredness and brazen audacity.

I remember going off on a bit of a tangent about audacity in front my journalism class last year. It was during our ‘future-fit’ week that I use to start prepping them for the technical and complicated reality that awaits them in the working world. An attempt to bring them up to speed with freelancing, thinking entrepreneurially/independently, and leveraging their unique skillset across industries and in spaces they may not have considered before. An essential exercise to help sidestep the land mines that are journalism and the South African job market.

Anyway, the gist of my message on audacity to them was that the only difference between them and their peers going forward, apart from talent and skill, would be the act of being audacious. Particularly in the face of closed doors. That the most successful amongst them would be those who put their hands up first, who send cold and unsolicited emails and DMs, who apply when they don’t meet the spec, who apply when imposter syndrome sets in, who assist others, who ask, and who move without hesitation. Something like that.

Audacity is central to everything I do. A lot of times I think my work is about just seeing if I can get away with it.”

Sufjan Stevens, New York Times, 2010

For me, being audacious has been freeing. One of the definitions for audacity is “unmitigated effrontery” – that might be the best descriptor yet, as it’s more than just being bold, it’s a boundless confidence. One could choose the more negative interpretation, which finds this a rude and impulsive way to be, but I have chosen a kinder one, to see it as unflinching self-belief a licence to act. Act on the things you think are out of reach, on the ideas you have swirling around in your head and heart.

One of those swirling ideas, was a narrative podcast project. One about work and workers in South Africa to be particular. I believe there is no such thing as an easy job, that all work no matter how seemingly contrived or straightforward takes something from us, demands something of us that injects value into the labour performed – no matter what it is. And so about a year ago now, I put this provocation down into words on a working document for a podcast. With no idea how I would get the time and resources to make this, but the belief that this forward motion would spur on cascading action.

And it did, two months on, when a call for projects was made by Africa No Filter, looking for work focused on reimagining work in the African context (about a month after a rejection for another production grant). I jumped at the opportunity, created a short sizzle episode to accompany my application and sent it off quickly, before I could talk myself out of it. Luckily for me, my idea, rooted in the humanity linked to the kinds of work we engage in, piqued ANF’s interest and soon I was shortlisted, interviewed and then selected as one of 36 storytellers awarded a grant to bring their projects to life.

This week I started sharing the work I have been carefully crafting over the last few weeks, a narrative podcast focused on work and working peeople in South Africa.

Essentially, my biggest takeaway from continually betting on myself and my ideas is that people and opportunities will meet you at the level of your audacity. If you say “I am X” or “I can do X” and don’t blink, generally speaking, you’ll get an “okay, show us” and then it’s up to you to rise to the occasion. MaRisky? My favourite pastime. You won’t win every time, but you will win some of the time, and that alone is worth trying over and over and over and over again.

Having Kendrick Lamar’s man at the garden on repeat for two years also helps.

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