It has happened to all of us at one time or another. We put ourselves out there in a query letter, in a bid or in my most recent case, by submitting photographs to the student art show. We wait a week or two, feeling hopeful about the situation, and then without warning we are summarily rejected. Rejection is a major part of being a freelancer and a major part of being human. You can't win 'em all.
My most recent bout with rejection happened at the Cleveland State University Student Art Show. Posters for the show were plastered all around campus, and since I've been doing some exciting things with my camera lately, I thought it was the perfect time to get involved. I went to a framer and paid an exorbitant amount (in my mind anyway) of money to have some of my favorite photos framed. I waited in line to drop them off at the art gallery and grabbed a receipt for them. I had even struggled to pick clever names for them.
This rejection was so potent because I didn't see it coming. Never having entered an art show before, I did not understand the concept of a "juried" show. I thought that juried meant a few people won ribbons or prizes. I didn't think I'd win anything, but I was excited that my work would be shown, so I invited about 30 people to the show. My choir director announced it to the entire choir too - that I would have photos in the show.
Fast forward a week and as I'm walking through the art building on my way to class, I see a sign that says "You can check to see if your work was accepted on Monday." Accepted? Wasn't all the work accepted? Apparently not - that's what juried means. Only some work is accepted - only the best. I walked in to the gallery and asked the girl how I could find out if my work had been accepted. "Do you see it on the walls?" she asked. I did not. So she directed me to the pile of rejects by the bathrooms, where my three frames were sitting, looking all dejected.
There was a lump in my throat and my stomach was turning over. Mind you, this was following an all-night writing session and I was tired. I walked to the car, clutching my photos and burst into tears. I proceeded to call a few friends and leave them messages about the rejection, letting them know that the photos I had taken of them would not be featured and apologizing profusely for my misunderstanding. I thought that everyone who turned in art would have it showcased, and I was oh so wrong. The embarrassment, paired with the cold I have been trying to fight off for weeks, sent me straight home and into bed.
It also led me to a profound realization about rejection... it happens in stages. Part 2 of this entry will deal with the stages of rejection. Suffice it to say that this particular rejection hit me harder than most because I didn't see it coming. I don't see myself attending the student show, except perhaps to jeer at the photos that did make it - but more on that in part 2.
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