What a school raffle taught me about dealing with rejection
Hey, it’s Pam 🦋
This April, Dyalekt and I volunteered for our son’s school’s spring dance. I ended up being in charge of managing the raffle table.
I wish I took a picture of the table - there were two rows of toys laid out with little cups next to them where kids could drop in their raffle tickets. Batman and Superman figurines packaged with build-your-own-car boxes, bejeweled purses, boxed book sets, tie dye kits, PJ Mask thingy’s, all glistening under the fluorescent cafeteria lights.
Someone had donated all the toys to the event and a raffle seemed like a fun way to give them away.
That is, until I had to explain to a 4 year old what a raffle was.
First I explained how it worked to my son. He recently decided his favorite superhero was Wonder Woman and there was a collector-grade Wonder Woman figurine–detachable sword and lasso of truth included–being raffled.
I told him that we put his raffle ticket in the cup next to the Wonder Woman toy. At the end of the dance, someone will pull a raffle ticket out of the cup and if they call his number, he wins the toy. If they don’t call his number, he doesn’t win the toy.
He burst into tears. He was pre-upset that he might not get the toy.
We had to reassure him that there was a chance he could win, but also that it really depended on how many other kids put their raffle tickets in the Wonder Woman cup.
Throughout the whole dance, I had the fun task of explaining to every young child who came up to the table with a little red ticket to choose the toy they wanted *the most* and maybe they would win it and maybe they wouldn’t.
There were the kids who came back and tried to dig their raffle ticket out of the cup so they could choose another toy.
There were the kids who came back with their group of friends to discuss why one prize was better than another.
There were the kids who hovered at the table, staring longingly at their favorites, their parents reminding them not to touch the toys.
In the last five minutes, there was an announcement that the raffle was about to start and a rush of parents went to buy another ream of raffle tickets to throw into the cups. We all started to feel the tension in the room building.
Then the moment of truth arrived. Dyalekt had the fun task of reading the raffle ticket numbers out loud. There were two little girls, right in the front, waiting for him to call the winner for the bejeweled pink purse, dressed in their spring dance dresses, looking up at him with anticipation.
I will never forget their faces when he handed the purse to someone else. Their eyes scrunched up, their mouths opened wide, and they openly sobbed in front of Dyalekt for the next 10 minutes while he continued to pass out toys to the other raffle winners.
This is how I feel every time I get a rejection letter from a fellowship or grant.
We just had our office hours for Creatives Thrive NYC and someone asked this question:
When applying for financial funds what is it that attracts organizations to your application? What motivates an organization to provide funds to a particular artist?
I’ve been so focused on creating the foundation of a business that I’ve recently realized is the opposite of what they want to hear about but wasn’t provided a lot of insight on what it is they actually want to hear about in applications.
Her question reminded me of this story because, that’s just it, isn’t it? It’s all a crapshoot.
Esther Robinson, co-founder of ArtBuilt (the org behind this whole series of workshops!), shared in the session that when she worked at Creative Capital, they received over 2,000 submissions for 20 spots.
So many great projects didn’t get funded simply because they didn’t have the funding to choose more of them. It had nothing to do with how “good” the other projects were.
But when I see the “we had so many great applications” line, “a record number of submissions this year,” “this was a very difficult decision for our team,” there is a little 4 year old girl inside of me, sobbing uncontrollably because all I wanted was this one thing in this one moment, and I couldn’t have it.
I can only take so many rejections before I start to wonder if I’m doing something wrong, if I don’t deserve to win, if I’m not good enough. And gosh, as an artist, it really feels like they’re rejecting the very essence of you.
Our son did not win the Wonder Woman toy. I could not console him. Dyalekt came by, picked him up and leaned in. He said, “Why don’t you go meet the kid who won the Wonder Woman toy and ask if he will let you see it?”
At first, our son didn’t want to go, but Dyalekt coached him through what he could say and our son nodded, wiped his eyes, and we walked over to the boy with his coveted prize.
He quietly asked if he could see the toy and I explained that Wonder Woman was his favorite superhero.
The kid handed him the toy and said, “You can have it if you want.”
Our son and I both looked at each other, equally surprised. “Wait really? Are you sure?” I asked incredulously.
The kid shrugged and said, “Yeah, he can have it. I have these two other toys I got too.”
Our son was speechless, holding the toy in his hands. I reminded him to say “thank you!” and I feel like I said thank you a million times. He ran up to his dad to show him what happened. He got to go home with the Wonder Woman toy after all.
Rejection is hard. We put so much of the burden on ourselves when we don’t get the grant, the fellowship, the job, the promotion. These systems are designed for only a few people to win, but to make you believe it’s your fault if you aren’t one of the winners.
We let these huge entities and rules and lotteries hit that nerve in our bodies that feels exposed and vulnerable for wanting something so much, and not getting it. We let the false sense of scarcity sink into our bones and begin to question our value and worth.
The kid who gave our son the Wonder Woman toy reminded us that there is enough to go around, that kindness and abundance and humanity can live outside of the systems and structures that are unnatural and not for us.
The next time you apply for something you really want, I also want you to think about how you can resource yourself, or better yet, how you can call upon your community to help resource you to land in a soft place no matter what the outcome. You are good enough. You are worth it. The little 4-year-old inside you will thank you for it.
And now for something completely different, but maybe not?
What if the Bachelorette starred a 40ish disabled divorced influencer and was set in Palestine?
My friend, Maysoon, who is a “comedian, disability advocate, and lifelong fan of The Bachelor franchise,” is starting to raise money to film a hilarious mockumentary in Palestine.
In her words, “It brings together the greatest actors in Palestine and an all-women crew from the director to the grips. Why all women? Because every set I’ve been on has basically been all men, so I wanted to flip the script. Why improv? We’re filming in Palestine. It’s silly to even try and plan anything, so improv is the perfect vehicle.”
Here is the link to contribute
If you’re not familiar with Maysoon, check out her TED talk (or you may already have, it has over 12 million views!). She recently released a graphic novel with Scholastic and flew in two young Palestinian dancers and musicians to perform at her book launch party in NYC.
If you’re here, you already know art changes the world, and your contribution to this campaign would mean the world to so many artists 💖