A little grant writing advice can go a long way. In the following article, Shakurra Amatulla outlines some of the basic information necessary for researching and writing grants.
Shakurra Amatulla (The Grant Lady)
So you want a grant—that chunk of money that’s "out there"
just waiting for your request? But you’re impatient, sometimes believing
that the road to success must open before you faster than Moses parted
the Red Sea. In your search for grants, you buy and read everything about
this free cash, continually look for people to guide you to said loot,
and still you haven’t gotten any closer to it. At some point, you’re probably
going to run into me, hear about me, or be directed to seek me out. Be
afraid. Be very afraid. I’m a whine-buster. I became a grant consultant
in 1982 after applying for and receiving a grant from a writer’s organization.
It was then that I discovered an over-abundance of often overlooked funding
sources. As a result, I launched a monthly grants newsletter which preps
subscribers to realistically assess if their funding needs can be sensibly
obtained from immediate means—such as a local community service agency—or
if their needs are best addressed through a grant.
The following is a collection of familiar whines consistently thrown
at me during my grant lectures, or via letters, email, or telephone. Each
whine is followed by my usual response.
The real deal
Whiner: "I want some of that free grant money to support me so
I can stay home and create my art."
I know of no grant that will wholly support you. You may have heard of
the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation Fellowship that awarded
$500,000 to each of this year’s recipients. However, you must be nominated
by a special committee to receive this grant. You cannot apply nor nominate
yourself. It’s worth your while to view the biographies of this year’s
winning Fellows (www.macfdn.org).
I guarantee it will be a humbling experience.
Let’s burst a myth right here and now. There’s no such thing as free
money. Even if the only thing you do is mail a simple request letter,
you’ve already spent something. You’ve spent time writing the letter,
and you’ve also spent money for the stamp. It may not sound like much
at first, but it will add up over time. If you’re really serious about
applying for grants, you shouldn’t stop at just one. You should make applying
for grants a part of your life. For example, as a playwright, I consistently
enter playwrighting contests and/or send my plays to theaters on a monthly
basis, and have been doing so for more than a decade. I’m concerned—and
this should also be of concern to you as an artist—that my work is continually
circulating before the public. This is how you get noticed. In addition,
applying regularly for grants forces me to create new playwriting material.
I don’t want to send last year’s play (again) to the same funding organization
I’m applying to this year.
You’re living in a hard, cruel world. Don’t be dazzled by those paper
prophets offering tried and true methods, the ones who make you gleefully
dance to their pied piper tunes. The only money you’ll likely see is the
money you gave them for their books, tapes, and/or seminars that usually
contain outdated, erroneous, or non-existent grant information. Be careful
what you invest in with your hard-earned money. Remember, the higher the
award money, the stiffer the competition. Your competitors for such grants
are serious artists—
Whiner: "Ouch!"
—who have been consistently honing their craft over a number of years.
In general, they are people with their attitudes positively and realistically
adjusted. To them, the art is indeed the thing, not how much money they
can make. Searching for grants isn’t a gold-digging prospect, but a humbling
learning experience in which your work is constantly being tested, judged,
and appraised. Sometimes you may win a grant. There’s also the possibility
that you may never win a grant in your entire lifetime. There are no guarantees.
How high quality is your art?
How long have you been working at your craft? I recently asked this of
a young lady who came to me in search of a grant to "support-me-in-the-fashion-in-which-I’m-accustomed."
She answered that she has been writing plays for a little less than a
year. She became fairly indignant when I told her that she needed to put
quite a few more years into honing her craft before she attempted grant
research. Here’s why: Consistency, commitment, and high quality art are
key essentials in any grant-maker’s funding decision. Your art is your
love. Nurture it!
Whiner: "I can’t write my way out of a paper bag. Just give me
some proposal buzz words and I’ll sprinkle them into whatever I send to
these grant people."
Non-profit organizations that seek funding are usually expected to be
on top of proposal writing "buzz words." You, on the other hand,
are usually asked to send in a page or two describing yourself along with
samples of your artwork. Most likely, your proposal will be more along
the line of an elongated résumé. If you want to be taken
seriously, you must submit clean, typo-free, professional-looking materials.
If you can’t write or spell worth beans, your computer spell-check and
grammar helpers are not going to save you. Take a free or low cost adult
education writing class at a local community college. If you don’t have
the time, go out and buy a style manual (such as The Chicago Manual
of Style) and study it. Let a writer friend give your work a final
once-over before you send it out. But don’t ever send out work that remotely
resembles a lot of the careless letters I’ve received. Be aware that funders
in grant-giving institutions wholeheartedly share my concern for presentable
proposals. Why should they weave through a mass of sloppy, poorly written
proposals when there are so many neat, carefully written, and articulate
requests from conscientious artists? Take care of every piece of work
you send out. Your written presentation is your calling card. It’s your
possible entrée into a world of higher opportunities. Send out
your very best work.
Whiner: "Writing grants sounds like an awful lot of hard work
for no guaranteed financial returns!"
Yes, it is hard work. The process is much like life. It can be unfair.
But along with the mundaneness of life, there are some joys and pluses
to keep you going. Once you’ve committed yourself to your art and obtaining
artistic recognition through grants, you’re in it for the long haul. It’s
crucial to know that although you may not be awarded money, you can still
attain success in your efforts. For instance, a member of the grant committee
you applied to may be impressed by your work, but funding may not be available
for you. Instead, you’re given a personal recommendation to a prestigious
member in the art world. You may even be asked to apply again next year,
or to keep the foundation informed of any gallery openings you may have.
Believe it or not, you’ve done well here! Before you know it, you’re "known"
in certain artistic circles. You may still be poorer than a church mouse,
but you’ve made some significant steps in your career. (Be sure that you
send a personal, handwritten thank-you note to anyone who expresses interest
in or commends your work.)
Remember that money isn’t the measure of your success. The more emphasis
you place on how much cash you’ll receive, the more you’re setting yourself
up for disappointment. Life is rich with opportunities. Open yourself
up to them and keep your eyes on the "prize" (your goal). Most
of all, stop whining. You’re "owed" nothing. It’s with hard
work, a positive attitude, and commitment to creating high quality art—sprinkled
with a tad of humility and a good sense of humor—that you can really enjoy
the true richness of success.
The Grant Lady is Shakurra Amatulla, publisher of For Us Women
Newsletter, an Internet Web site on grants for women and people of
all "flavors" (www.grantlady.com).
She also works as a grants consultant and career counselor.