why you should celebrate your rejections
it's all a part of the *process*
#WednesdayWisdom
“Like a lot of Black women, I have always had to invent the power my freedom requires.” ~ June Jordan
Morning Musings
In chapter six of Stop Waiting for Perfect, I include a Hall of Fame of my most notable rejections. That list includes:
Rejected from Georgetown University for undergrad
Rejected from my dream internship at Girls’ Life magazine—twice (but landing it on the third try…I am the embodiment of “nevertheless, she persisted”)
Rejected from University of Maryland for grad school
Rejected from Jet magazine—twice (once again, third time was a charm)
Rejected by four literary agents while querying my book
Rejected for the executive director position at Bitch
Rejected from a literary retreat for writers of color
Rejected for a staff writer position at an outlet I was already freelancing for (that one still doesn’t quite make sense to me)
And rejected by another publisher that passed on my book (their loss)
If I were writing the book today, I would add two of my biggest rejections of the year thus far: a small business grant I applied for and a poem I submitted to a literary magazine. As a writer, I have to admit—that last one stung a little bit.
I don’t necessarily consider myself a ~poet~, but I have been known to dabble in poetry every now and then. In eighth grade, I wrote a poem called “Flowers for the Soul” in honor of my grandmother, who’d passed away from Alzheimer’s. My 12-year-old reasoning was that we should celebrate our loved ones with flowers while they’re alive to enjoy them—something I wish I’d done more for my grandmother. But alas, I was a moody (and anxious) adolescent, so you live, you learn and then you get Luvs.
I submitted the poem to my high school’s literary magazine my freshman year and later became editor-in-chief of said magazine during my senior year (along with the student newspaper…what can I say? I’ve always been ambitious and have always done the most, not much has changed).
Afterward, my public-facing poetry began to dwindle as I moved more firmly in my trajectory (destiny?) as a journalist. I still write poetry in my journal. I wrote a few to grapple with the ups and downs of our fertility journey, including one I wrote the night before finding out we were expecting. Since then, I’ve written several poems to Violet and I can’t wait to share them with her one day. Most recently I wrote a poem to my late father-in-law. I love a good essay, but sometimes poetry is the best way to capture a burst of inspiration, a mood and a moment. Or, in the case of my father-in-law, memories.
So while I’m not necessarily a professional poet, I’m a poet nonetheless. As my BFF Pam Johnson Davis said in her TEDxChicago Talk, there is poetry in all of us. My challenge to myself this year, as I mentioned in a previous newsletter, is to put myself out there. Stop waiting for the perfect moment to apply for the grant, the fellowship, etc. Give myself permission to experiment.
I’m bummed my poem didn’t find a home in this literary mag (especially because I recently applied to their annual creative writing retreat for Black women) and I’m proud of myself for trying. I’m also confident the poem will find a home somewhere else (perhaps my next book?). And I’ve been celebrating my rejection on social media. Part of this is to hold myself accountable. The other part is to practice what I preach about celebrating rejection.
I know it may seem counterintuitive (we’re conditioned to celebrate wins and shroud our losses in secrecy and shame), but I believe celebrating your rejection is part of how you take your power back.
Celebrating rejections is because it means you tried. You did a brave thing, a new thing. You took a risk, and it didn’t work out this time. But so many people talk themselves out of even trying. It’s easy to play it safe, play it small, and not put yourself out there. But the real magic—the real good stuff—happens outside your comfort zone.
How will you put yourself out there this year? Let me know in the comments so I can cheer you on! 🎉
Links I Love
Beyoncé, The Boss (Essence)
The benevolence of funeral fried chicken (the dead zine.)
The Amendment: Keeping democracy intact with Nikole Hannah-Jones (The 19th)
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I try to remind myself that every no is one step closer to a yes. Doesn't mean the rejection doesn't sting, but I try to put it into perspective after I take a day to feel it. :D