By Caitlin Liebenberg
Commitment, Mediocrity, Disappointment — F*** Off Home.
3 months until SCA 2016/17. And I’m going to be there*.
But I don’t know how, and, until last week, I wasn’t even sure that SCA was right for me.
I KNOW! I got in! And I was super excited… a school made for creativity and communication?! If I had two middle names– that I could choose and wouldn’t make me sound like a twat– those would be they.
Yet, still… I wasn’t sure. I think that, mostly, I was scared. Of a few things.
- Commitment. What if something else comes along? What if another organisation will love me better? What if I want to go in another direction? Can you see why I’m single?
- Mediocrity. An unfortunately LARGE chunk of my ego has been constructed around the fact that people have told me I’m clever and can do things; ideally all the things. I know SCA is going to beat that out of me with love, kindness, and killer crits. And, you know, everyone else is going to be awesome too…and I’m not used to such competition. If it turns out I’m actually average, I have no idea who I’ll be.**
- Disappointment. When I feel, I feel hard. And if I’m going to let myself believe in a magical warzone of innovation and creativity spinning in the heart of Brixton, then gosh darn it I better be getting the coach, not the pumpkin– I’ve worked with people who are all copy and no cock, and it sucks. It’s not all rainbows and secret sauce, but hell; a place that inspires such mixed metaphors has a lot to live up to. And if it turned out to churn out bow-tied, bearded hipster-droids it would break my heart… ‘specially ‘cause I can’t grow one.
And then what happened?
I pulled my head out. Right out. And got the context I should have kept in mind from the beginning.
- SCA is not just a school, or a time-commitment. And even if it were, should something truly BETTER come up, I feel like the mentors, and Marc, wouldn’t let you get away without taking it. Also, everything is a choice… I haven’t checked the latest email from Honor, but so far I don’t recall a contract signed in blood. If it turns out I’m not right for the place, I’m certain I’d be as equally encouraged out as I was in.
- Man up. I want to change the world and the way we think about and create mass communication. If I don’t get the shit shaken out of my brain, it’ll end up coming out of my mouth, and I’ll never be good enough to do anything worthwhile. If being surrounded by my peers, especially those that are better than me, is more scary than exciting I need to go seriously reconsider my goals… maybe become a lifestyle blogger. SCA is not about mediocrity, and that’s good for all of us.
- I’ll marry you SCA, if you’ll have me. Even if you turn out to be a frog. Or a large winter squash. Because the magic is my head anyway. And that’s the beauty of it; it’s all about perspective. Well, no, it’s not. In this case it’s about combining perspective with an incredible offering of mentorship, challenges, beer and seeing peoples’ bums***. But life is always going to be what you make of it, and I won’t let being burned by past promises of delight and passionate intent stop me anymore… I trust you, Boo.
I’ve been more actively creative in the last month than the last year, simply thinking about the scholarship brief and passion project. That in itself highlights how SCA gets you talking, thinking, crying, screaming and shouting more than ever before. None of which is disappointing, and all of which I’m looking forward to. Not to mention I’ve already smashed out some serious tunes with our new intake, and it was incredible. #teamvardyftw
The best of all? Support.
Last week I sat down with just the best human, Julian Hanford, a mentor from my Selection day, to talk through my doubts and fears, and even did a drive-by “heymarciwasn’tsurebutnowiamokthanksbye”; not so fun in anticipation, but necessary, incredibly useful, and waaaay easier in reality. And it really helped. So if you’re experiencing any doubts, concerns, worries, niggles, or any other synonyms one might use to casually describe shitting oneself in fear, get in touch– they do care.
*At least I hope so, because this going public will be awkward if it happens otherwise.
** So far the acceptance letter has helped keep me intact.
***It’s bellybuttons, not bums. My bad.