Some Secrets to Grant Writing
I’ll never forget the first big grant I wrote. I was finishing my MPH and was brought into a County Health and Human Services on a 10-month harm reduction grant, 2 months in; I was charged with beginning their harm reduction efforts. During this short period of time, I realized the County would need much more funding to accomplish their long-term goals, and to expand programming to reduce overdoses. An $800,000 grant opportunity from the COSSAP (formerly COAP) arm of the Bureau of Justice Assistance came across my desk and, despite the odds stacked against me (this department rarely received federal funds), I researched, drafted and collaborated with County staff and partner agencies to submit. As we awaited news, I also submitted a roughly $250,000 North Carolina DHHS grant to tackle re-entry. I finished my MPH in August and flew to Ireland to celebrate in September, not knowing if I’d have a job when I returned. The Health Director at the time graciously extended my time through November, until we would hear of the awards. Both grants were successful, which allowed me not only to stay, but to begin the Post Overdose Response Team I had designed in the grant proposal, and to co-author EMS’s first Community Paramedicine grant, which was also awarded a year later by Dogwood Health Trust. It was this trajectory that taught me that grant writing is a high-risk adventure sport. It requires perseverance, adrenaline, and a bit of a fool’s heart. I have always believed in the better angels of the human race, and I’d wager to say one cannot be a successful grant writer without that quality.
But this wasn’t the first grant I had written nor received. When at a Medicaid MCO, I wrote a small ESG HUD grant for a homeless shelter in Rutherford County. That was back in the day when grants had to be submitted in binders, in duplicate, and HUD is notorious for being one of the hardest grants to win. It is also one of the hardest grants to administer. Sadly, the shelter, lacking any technology or even internet connection (they did not have Broadband access at the time), was unable to fulfill the reporting requirements, and never received the first allocation of funds. I’ll never forget the moment I told the shelter they had received the money, nor the day they told me they could not keep up. So, lesson two: take inventory of capacity. Some grant requirements, particularly from government partners, are over the top, but that doesn’t stop them from enforcing them.
You would think that bringing in over a million dollars into an organization in less than a year would have cemented my position, but, unfortunately, not everyone within government loved me, or harm reduction. Also, shoehorning a new position into local government is akin to giving labor multiple times in a row. I’m an adventurer, but I’m not made of cortisol. I left that job as the grant winded down, disappointed that my work was not appreciated by those who had the power to advance my career, but still happy I took the adventure. I quickly landed a leadership role in a small nonprofit where I raised hundreds of thousands in grant funding in less than two years time, because I realized one of the biggest secrets to grant funding I already possessed: I can tell a good story. I don’t mean a fable; I mean as a grant writer and program director, one needs to vision what is possible in the future by anticipating both the program and/or organization’s landscape, and the general funding and service landscape. And then paint the picture. As a creative writer, this has come naturally for me. Some things cannot be foreseen, like Helene, but that’s when you take another high risk adventure and dig into what is happening right now. Those two things might seem juxtaposed, and in some ways they are, but they at times must happen simultaneously. And that is what I did at Blue Ridge Pride when Helene hit eight days after we had secured our first Pride Center: I wrote grants and turned the empty center into a distribution site while I searched for funding to sustain the efforts. That quote from Field of Dreams is fairly apt: “If you build it, they will come.” Just don’t forget to provide administrative support!
Speaking of the now and admin, here’s the second most important secret of good grant writing and grants management: follow the rules. It’s that easy, or at least it has been for me, though I did attend Catholic school where they measured your skirts… In any case, if a grant has a deadline for questions, don’t submit one afterwards. If the word count is 500, don’t go to 501. That would seem a simple task, but too often the grants which are the most competitive have very lengthy application instructions. In federal grants, instructions are often buried in an addendum or only clarified in a webinar. So…attend the webinar. I’ve experienced other grants where the word count says 500 within the portal, but 1,000 on the grant instructions. If the window for asking questions is passed, I stick to the lower number just in case.
At this point in my career, I have secured over $3 million for Western North Carolina in grants, mostly though not exclusively in the behavioral health realm. One grant, as I mentioned, failed when the organization I wrote it for simply could not administer it. A second one never saw the light of day after NIMBY’s killed it before it came to City Council for a vote. I have received very few denials post-submission. These are some pretty crazy odds, which I’ve tried not to say out loud because I fear it may jinx me! I wish I could say my relative success has to do with all of the above wisdom and skills I have garnered, but the secret really is that any good grant and program planning happens collaboratively. I have never written a grant in a silo. Most of the time, I have written one under advisement of an organization or community coalition. In the rare instances where something was so new to our region (such as Contingency Management for Methamphetamine use), there were not people here already doing the work, I relied on meetings with national experts, research articles and staff feedback for the narrative. One might think grant writing is a more solo extreme sport like bungee jumping, but it’s usually a team sport-think white water rafting or night-time orienteering. When I have written grants on contract (vs. for an org or program I run), I still fully go on that thrill seeking adventure with the team as if I will be on the receiving end. If the answer comes back no, chances are the people I’ve worked with (and myself!) have at least learned a lot about themselves and their efforts.
Lastly, in the midst of the adventure, even when it feels like you are winning, please don’t forget to diversify funding! Grants, alone, cannot create stability for a cause. We are seeing that now unfortunately with Healthy Opportunities Pilot funds drying up. And please, please, never hire someone FT for a position unless there is an 18-24 month plan at least for their efforts. Most grant writers have been on the other side of grants and should be advising you to take care of the humans who will be hired under said grant. Many grants will only really allow a year of salary; and this is where the funding diversity becomes critical. A full 50% of jobs I had from the age of 23-43 were grant-funded; because of this I have virtually no retirement built up, and it looks like I job hopped way more than I actually have on purpose. This job insecurity is part of why I began my consulting business, and also why I am looking for my next FT endeavor (whether consulting or other) to be well-resourced with longevity.
If you are part of an organization looking to expand or sustain programming, or to begin something new, and need a skilled and empathic grant writer on your side, please reach out. I love writing, and I love collaborating, especially with people who love service.