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Recognition Ammunition

Updated: Dec 13, 2024


L-R Rasela Torise, Lealah Shostak, Monet Shortland.



I've been quietly contemplating the topic of 'winning' this past month ever since we did, and literally bathing in the warm fuzzy feeling of finally being one of 'those' people who get called up to the stage to be recognised for their incredible work. I always wanted to be one of 'those' people and now I am, receiving my first accolade at the National broadcasting awards ceremony with my co-creators beside me. It was, I have to say, one of the best moments of my life.


I vividly remember sitting in high school assemblies, having arrived at the end of yet another year and never really knowing how we got there. My mind always seemed so far beyond my physical body, and I had a hard time trying to stay grounded for long enough to be present in anything I didn't wholeheartedly love.


Some of my fondest and most rebellious memories were getting suspended, being put on daily report, wagging school and faking my Mums signature so I could write notes for the teachers who to be fair would probably have preferred it if I'd stayed away. I had a habit of disrupting the entire class for my own personal needs, whatever they were at the time. To be heard perhaps? To have a voice? Clearly, I had one, I just couldn't find a way to put it to good use back then.


Each time high school award ceremonies came round I was secretly in awe of the people who received them, but I had my self-sabotaging-rebel-persona to uphold so I pretended it didn't matter. Deep down in the very pit of my stomach ached a longing to be that person, collecting an award for something of significance I had achieved. I knew I had it in me, that's the frustrating part. I had ideas, visions, drive and passion but nowhere to direct it and nothing to funnel it into. Until now.


When I was first approached by my co-producer Lealah Shostak to be part of this project, I made a decision to put everything I had into it. All my skills, my knowledge, my heart, my soul and my determination to make this the best piece of audio I had ever made. Worthy of an award. Even if we didn't win one, I would know that I gave it my all. I also chose to mentor the incredibly talented then 15-year-old Monet Shortland, offering her renumeration for her time and exquisite editing skills with the intention of inspiring her to continue to be part of a local community media organisation like BayFM. It worked btw :)


Monet and I spent months listening through all the audio of the Main Arm school students Lealah had recorded straight after the devastating floods of 2022, trying to find a sense of direction for the narrative to follow. How do we best represent these wonderful words loaded with honesty and vulnerability? That was our mission. Many meetings and snacks were shared between Monet and I over the course of about 4-5 months as we dissected the varying themes throughout the stories and began to script the bridges in between for Monet to narrate.


Finally, we were ready to record Parts 1 & 2 at the BayFM studios but before we did, we returned to Main Arm school just over a year later to meet the young legends in person and re- interview them. It was wonderful to put faces to the voices we had come to know so well. We wanted to see how the impact of the floods had affected them in the grand scheme of things. We got some unexpected answers! These final recordings make up Part 3 of the trilogy which Monet scripted and recorded herself in the BayFM studios (with me peaking over her shoulder).


The task of mastering the trilogy was mine and I decided to create two versions of Part 1. The first was loaded with sound FX to really take the listener to the feeling of the catastrophe and bring them into the devastation that was being described. The second was with minimal FX for a more conversational approach. We then launched the trilogy on BayFM and had a positive response from listeners and peers alike.


Have a listen for yourself and you be the judge!









Where to from here?


The CBAA (Community Broadcasting Association of Australia) hold an annual conference each year in a different part of the country and the final evening is dedicated to acknowledging the 400+ community radio stations across Australia with a big fancy gala awards dinner. Luckily for us it was on the Gold Coast this year so only a relatively short drive away!


Amazingly the Young Legends podcast trilogy came very close to not being entered into the awards at all, as the categories had changed from previous years, and I couldn't find one that I thought best suited the podcasts. Perhaps a part of me also didn't want to be disappointed. Maybe my 'best work' wouldn't be good enough?!


Thankfully fellow award-winning broadcaster Mia Armitage, executive producer of BayFM's Community Newsroom called me up a week or so before the deadline and asked which category I was entering Young Legends into. When I replied I wasn't as I couldn't find a category Mia responded with these sublimely stern and deliciously direct words ...


"Sister Rasela, you HAVE to enter it into the awards!"


This was all I needed to hear. Support. Belief. Encouragement. We spent the next hour or so on the phone reading through each category meticulously together before deciding on "Excellence in Community Engagement".


I set about the mammoth task of applying for the award during the early stages of what ended up being a four-month bout of whooping cough. It was tough but once committed there was no stopping until I hit 'submit' and sent my hopes and dreams out to the Universe.


Waiting to hear whether you have been nominated is a fleeting form of angelic anticipation. It's like you still have a winning chance in scheme of things until you hear either way and you can't help but allow your mind to wander to that feeling of being selected as a finalist, even perhaps daring to imagine what it might be like to win.


Reflecting back, I set out with a very strong intention and that was to produce the best quality work I possibly could. This stuck with me throughout the entire process so when I didn't get word of our entry being nominated when others were, something actually felt wrong. I was quietly confident this project had everything it needed to at least be nominated as a finalist. The full results of the nominations finally reached me via a congratulatory email from the CBAA acknowledging the nomination and inviting us to attend the gala dinner. A mini celebration in itself! To be selected as a finalist! An honour in itself!  This was enough! Wasn't it?!


In the past I would have felt and thought this way. But something felt different this time. I verbalised it to close friends on a couple of occasions and was almost surprised to hear my self say, "I really want to win an award" and each time I said it with such conviction. I kept reminding myself I had every right to say and feel this way because it was true! That burning desire smoldering away in me from my school days still seemed very much alive. Whether I saw it in my early years and held onto the knowing or whether the desire to be 'that'' person drove me to eventually be awarded I don't know but I felt it wholeheartedly throughout the whole process.


The day of the awards ceremony arrived, and I woke up feeling in some way different. I can't completely explain how except to say I felt lighter and brighter and a little dazed by it. I carried an inner air of confidence which felt new to me, and I spent the day chilling with my puppy, jumping into the river near where we live before taking him to the beach and frolicking for hours in the waves to cool us from the searing heat. I felt pleasantly preoccupied, as though I was being guided somewhere that day without having to think about it. I got ready, kissed my puppy goodbye and hit the road, headed for the big smoke and skyscrapers of Surfers Paradise.


The ambience was excitable as we arrived poolside at the QT Hotel right in the heart of it all. Seeing familiar faces from previous conferences is always lovely, meeting up with our little contingency of proud BayFMers, forming new connections and having inspiring conversations with likeminded people, all on the tail end of the weekend long conference and gurgling with anticipation for the evening's gala dinner and awards ceremony.


We took our place in the grand room, our chosen table in the front row closest to the stage, adorned with polished cutlery, sparkling glasses, bottles of this and that arranged haphazardly. It already felt surreal, the clatter of chatter, the flutter of utter excitement in my belly. I surrendered to the moment and tried to remain in it rather than beyond it. The bubbles were flowing and in true celebration of all aspects of community radio we toasted.


BayFM was nominated in four separate categories and three of the nominations were ahead of our own, each an excuse to let out the loudest and proudest cheers from our little crew but each time the award going to another well deserving station from somewhere else across Australia.


The moment came. The category for "Excellence in Community Engagement".

There were five nominations to read out and ours was the last on the list at which point we let out an almighty roar! The MC for the evening glanced over at our table and spoke the words that still bring tears to my eyes, and a swell to my chest even as I am writing this today ...


"Well, you can continue with the celebrations because the winner is ......"


I only know what happened following those words because it was graciously captured on video by BayFM president Ange Kent and here is that moment to be relived over and over each time bringing a renewed sense of utter delight and always more than a few happy tears.





This recognition has brought a new level of inner self-belief beyond what I've somehow managed to maintain myself over the past twenty-one years volunteering within the community radio sector. The best thing about this award is that it shows what's possible when people come together, sharing skills, bringing unique knowledge, offering each other new opportunities and most importantly, working for and with each other.


To be awarded in the category 'Excellence in Community Engagement' means so much as it's everything I personally stand for in the work I do. To offer a platform to the otherwise unheard, to open new pathways for people to step into community radio, to share stories, educate and inform, to touch the hearts of listeners and participants with authentic and valuable stories, and to represent BayFM within the community and as part of the National broadcasting sector.


An added bonus was receiving a Parliamentary 'Community Recognition Statement from NSW member for Ballina Tamara Smith.



A Parliamentary 'Community Recognition Statement' isn't something I'd usually know anything about. But when it has your name on it alongside those of your fellow co-producers, in recognition of the national award received for the podcast project you all worked on together - you quickly learn!


This little nugget came through today and I felt to share it in the name of collaboration, communication and the cracking community radio station Bay FM we're all a part of.


In a day and age where it's more common to feel disengaged than it is to feel truly connected, it represents the power of possibility when people come together for the betterment of humanity in the best way we know how - Community Radio.


So proud to represent this medium of potent creative connection and communication!


My heartfelt gratitude goes out to the students at Main Arm School whose stories we shared. Without their honesty and vulnerability along with their sense of humour and adventure, these podcasts could not have been made let alone become awarded work.


To the Byron Youth Service for initiating the project, special thanks to Lealah Shostak for entrusting me with the recordings and Christian Tancred for sending us off to the gala dinner to celebrate our achievement in being nominated.


To my number one assistant (now) 16-year-old Monet Shortland. Thank you for the privilege of mentoring you and for all the snacks and cakes along the way. I am so proud of you and all of the achievements that have come to you through your involvement with BayFM.


Thanks to the CBF (Community Broadcast Foundation) and to the NSW Department of Communities and Justice for their support in making this project possible.


And I have to give thanks to myself for giving it everything I had and for never giving up on the dream of being that person :)



Lealah & Rasela being 'those' people!

 
 
 

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Image Courtesy of Poinciana Cafe Mullumbimby

Byron Arts & Ind. Est

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Strangely enough I never had a dream of becoming a DJ. I did however have what you might call an epiphany one time in London in 1993, precisely ten years before I first touched the turntables in Sydney in 2003. This epiphany occurred at an after party, a common occurrence once we left The Ministry of Sound, a place that transformed lives and united an era of people who were hooked on the collective love we all felt by being there. We were part of something phenomenal, the birth of house music, love doves and the underground rave scene in the early 90's.  What a combination! Walking into Ministry was like coming home. No longer lost, alone, afraid or isolated, the dancefloor was a seething wave of steamy bodies that engulfed you in its irresistible cloud and took you places you never wanted to come back from. It brought a dance nation together, a generation of ecstasy gobbling, gooning, gorgeous souls who asked nothing of you except to dance. Swept up in the waves of life as I often have been, I was attracted to the crowd that always kept going. There was no stop button, no pause, no rest or sleep, it was one long adventure of music and movement and one of those waves lead me to this specific DJ epiphany. Loading the turntables, lighting, speakers, DJ's, records and bodies into cabs, cars, and onto a few magic carpets, we restarted the party anywhere we could find: An empty house where parents had gone away, old pubs where someone knew the landlord, underground bars that had closed and reopened for us, parks (there was a period of Hyde Park gatherings on Sunday's where masses of us, still dressed in club gear, would set up near the fountains with boom boxes, blankets, frisbees, and free love. Maaaan those were some special times). One day or night, I don't recall, we ended up in a huge house for one such after party. I remember only that it had many floors and a solid plush carpeted staircase that took me down to the basement level where some people had set up a set of turntables in a spare room and were giving it a go. As I stood in the doorway someone called out to me to have a go putting a record on. It had never occurred to me to do so but as I stood in the doorway I heard and felt something remarkably powerful.  I heard clearly the words:  "If I touch the turntables, they'll take over my life"  I froze in limbo for a few moments, as if frozen in time, before deciding all I wanted to do was dance, so took myself back upstairs to rejoin the party. I don't remember anything else about that party before or after that moment in the doorway.  I never thought about it again or pondered the possibility of DJing. I never gave it another thought. Until ten years later in Sydney. Hugos Lounge 2003. I know this date to be exact as I've kept journals my whole life through lack of being able to communicate with the rest of the world. I was working as Host/Reception Manager at Hugos Lounge, from its opening in 2000-2003, my first three years in Sydney. Hugos was an iconic venue in Kings Cross throughout the noughties, appropriate for that time as it was naughty as naughty can be and if you were there, then you know! One of my natural responsibilities was the music and then eventually the DJ's that came to relieve us of the same CDs on repeat, week after week.​ Sneaky Soundsystem were our first resident DJ's and then two very special female DJ's Jackie Shan and Lady Tre came to play. Thursday nights for Tre and Saturday nights for Shan. We fast became family and would talk and play music all night and into the sunrise and back into the sunset. If there was music was playing, we wouldn't go to sleep. Throughout these legendary sessions they both started to say things like "When you start playing...." and I was like.... huh?  Mid 2003 Shan came to the owners with a proposal to have an all-female DJ night at Hugos on Wednesdays called Sista. It was to highlight the incredible talents of the under recognised female talent that was out there playing in the male dominated landscape of DJing. The night started and the first DJ that played was inappropriate for the timeslot. We were a restaurant first, then a bar, and then a cranking nightclub. The music needed to reflect the mood of the Lounge in all its stages, so I shared my thoughts on the style of music to which Shan replied, "Do you want to come and play next week?" ​ I did. ​ I touched the turntables. ​ They took over my life. ​ No one ever taught me how to mix. It just made sense. I never once practiced at home, I borrowed some records for that first gig and remember sitting in the car with a small bag of records on my lap knowing in my heart that someday I would be lugging great cases of vinyl around. To where I didn't yet know but still, I knew. The whirlwind that followed was out of my control. As though someone else had come in and taken over my life. I, as the observer, yet simultaneously in the driving seat of this momentum of music and mixing. It was surreal, sublime, never scary, up there spinning tunes to heaving crowds, something I honestly believe I could never have done had it not started at the Lounge. This was my home. My happy place. Full of friends that were my family. It's where it all began.  From there I was taken on a wild journey that caused me to become adrenally exhausted after realising I had played my heart and soul out in the ensuing 6 years and had nothing left. Empty. Not a single drop of anything left for me. Thats when I left Sydney and moved to Byron. It was 2009. We ALL have gifts inside of us waiting to be discovered. All it takes is the right conditions to allow them to flourish and grow into something you'd never even imagine. I was 33 years old when I first and finally touched those turntables. Who are you and what gifts still lay dormant inside of you I wonder? ​​ These days I play outdoor festivals only. Island Vibe, Earth Freq, Burning Seed. And of course, the Radio. These places and people fuel me and give me back as much as I give out. There are many stories of gigs in exotic, erotic, chaotic locations and more than a few moments of pure joy and connection I could share, but I keep those moments for myself.​ ​ They are the fuel that feeds the flame. ​ Forever burning for the turntables. x​

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