Hi friends,
Two years ago, I decided to start a podcast called Hazawi Podcast. "Hazawi" means stories in classical Arabic, as many of you already know. I aimed to focus on interviewing writers about their journey, challenges, and writing process. I wanted to create a platform that I would have loved to have had a few years ago when I started my writing journey.
I did that for a year and then decided to switch gears, for reasons I can share in a later newsletter. After the podcast, I began posting my own YouTube videos about writing, books, productivity, and everything that makes me Me. My intent is still the same: to build a platform I would have liked to see and connect with when I first started as a writer. The channel just gives me more room to express myself than the podcast, even though it is harder to run.
So, for the past two years, I have been posting online, learning how to edit videos, and understanding the different types of cameras, lenses, lights, microphones, computer processors, and more.
A few months ago, the Executive Director at my office (I work for a small office in the Department of Education in NYC— I basically put together workshops, toolkits, and project management tools for principals at the school level), told me that she heard I had a podcast and wanted to know if I could shoot and edit a video of her talking about a program we were launching to post on Department's social media page.
“Of course, I can,” I said.
The next day, I brought my camera and microphone, and we shot the video. I edited it and sent it to her to forward to the marketing team for posting.
They rejected it.
I asked a hundred questions, and the answer was always unclear. There wasn't a formal process for getting things posted on that page. So our Executive Director decided we should create our own Instagram page and asked me to post the video there. I was nervous, since it felt like we were breaking the rules. I created the page, posted the video, and only 200 saw it.
After that video, I agreed with the executive director to begin posting regularly. I was doing this job alongside my actual job. I would walk around with my camera in our building and interview people. I rented the podcast room and filmed a few videos there. Then one day, I saw a job post on our office website. They were looking for someone who could handle a camera, edit videos, and write copy for social media. I applied and got the job.
If you had told me two years ago that buying a $2,000 camera would give me a $20,000 raise, and a new career path that I was passionate about I would have laughed and unfriended you.
I hope this doesn't come off as me bragging. I'm only sharing this to say: you never know what can happen if you take chances on yourself. If you just learn something new, and be just a little uncomfortable, and maybe sometimes clownish, something unexpected can happen. It might take a few years, but as long as the prize is in the process and the joy of doing the thing for the sake of the thing, and not for an external reward that might or might not fulfill you, it’s worth it.
📖 Books I’m reading?
I’m reading The Reluctant Fundamentalist by Mohsin Hamid for the second time. There is a story I’m writing about the relationship between tourist and perviously colonized land, and this book’s fabric is all about that. I love this book!
💎 New From Me
I recently posted a video on Instagram that performed better, in the first hour, than the three I had posted in the previous three weeks. Now, I don't worry too much about views unless they tell me something more than the number itself. This particular video sat on my phone for three weeks. I hesitated to post it because I thought it was lame. I thought I sounded like one of this fitness gurus who breathed into the camera while talking to the viewer they're their child. Lesson learned? You are the worst judge of your own work. Show people what makes you you, and those that relate to you will see themselves in you.
🔖 Quote I’m pondering
"If you wish to improve, be content to appear clueless or stupid."
—Epictetus
📸 Through My Lens
The pink sunglasses are my daughter's. She's discovering power, so she asks me to wear them, then takes them away and awaits my reaction. If I don't cry and demand them back, she asks me to do so.
Please give me feedback on the newsletter by replying to this email. Do you find it worth your time? What do you want more or less of? Or other suggestions?
Thank you for reading!
Mohamed