Resilience: Finding strength when rejected for competitions/exhibitions/residencies

Forging a path as a creative can be a tough business. Applying for competitions, exhibitions and residencies – and succeeding - is the clearest way to get your work in front of people, receive validation from your industry and build a path for your career. But unlike any other aspect of your creative or professional development, it’s a trajectory you can’t plan for as decisions are made by others.

If you like to be in control of your progress or suffer with anxiety (I am both), the vulnerability of putting yourself forward and the agonising wait to hear if you’ve been accepted can be overwhelming. In order to put out the best application possible, you have to believe you are going to get it. You have to invest your time and often your money. When you have that belief, and you tentatively add the opportunity to your calendar in case you get it and need to allocate the time for it, it can be devastating to get a rejection. I have thought to myself, ‘I’m not good enough.’ I have felt embarrassed to have ever believed that I could be selected in the first place, deleting it from my calendar. On the other side of the coin, when you are accepted, getting validation from the industry feels euphoric. Applying for things requires a lot of energy and emotional admin, and I occasionally ask myself ‘why am I doing this.’

I’m thinking a lot about this at the moment as last week I received a rejection for a prestigious event that I had spent weeks on the application for, and I also was not shortlisted for a competition that I spent three months creating a piece to submit for. Aside from the time spent filling out the applications (which for the event required a full, year-long marketing and finance step-by-step plan), I also invested in professional photography of my work, mock-ups from a graphic designer and mentoring from other artists.

To receive these rejections in the same week after waiting months for the result was a big blow, but I’m not writing this to say that reaching for opportunities and putting yourself out there is all doom and gloom, rather, my intention with this blog is to explain exactly how I took these rejections and found the adrenaline to create a new opportunity for myself and build a thick enough skin to pull myself out of the ‘why am I putting myself through this’ spiral that is so easy to fall into. I also think it’s really important to share my voice on this side of things. I am always quick to share my successes and acceptances, but for every opportunity I am lucky enough to get, there are at least three where I receive the dreaded ‘we’re sorry to inform you’.

Getting a rejection feels very personal. The word ‘rejection’ itself feels like a punch, so I try to reframe a rejection as a ‘non-acceptance’. Rather than being actively rejected, in most of these situations the truth is more passive; I was ‘not accepted’. And I find this easier to rationalise, because what that means is that other artists were accepted. The opportunity wasn’t meant for me, and I am grateful that we have an industry full of opportunities. There’s so much amazing glass out there. Having an interest and a passion for other artists’ work and finding joy in their success is a route to peace following a rejection. The nature of selected exhibitions and prizes suggests a competitive arena, but I don’t like to feel that I’m in competition with my peers. If you can reframe the idea of ‘competing against’ to ‘competing with’ other artists, you can reach for and sometimes miss out on these opportunities without compromising the comfort of your community.

I remind myself that all art is subjective. Most competitions and exhibition application guidelines do not dictate judgment criteria, and that means that the personal taste of the judge/s is extremely relevant. When competitions make entries public I often look at them and note how impossible I would find it to judge. If you are presented with a selection of work that is incredibly diverse, yet all exceptionally made and photographed, judging must be so difficult. And I know my work isn’t for everyone. I can reassure myself that a rejection isn’t because my work wasn’t good enough, it was because there were lots of great entries and mine wasn’t to the judges’ taste.

I can’t know for certain what the reasons were of course. But there needs to be some sense of rationalisation because the alternative is falling into a sort of existential crisis where I throw my toys out of the psychological pram questioning why I do glass in the first place, why I bother trying to fit within a pre-existing culture, imagining walls that I can’t break through. That’s not healthy or useful, but I think it’s a really human way to respond to rejection until you can contextualise it by receiving a ‘yes’.

That first ‘yes’ can carry you through a sea of ‘no’. From that first ‘yes’ you know that a ‘yes’ is possible, you start building connections with people and your future submissions become more refined and confident.

I have been very lucky to have had my work selected for two fantastic exhibitions in 2022, and although that doesn’t make the rejections I received last week any less felt, I am able to recognise that it wasn’t because my work wasn’t good enough or that I wasn’t worthy of applying. I didn’t waste my time. My submissions were the best that I could produce, and who knows who now knows about me, who may be considering me for a different opportunity.

Lastly, I have an actionable plan for what to do if I don’t get accepted for an opportunity I really, really want. Not a back-up plan, but an alternative plan. Something to be excited about and work towards instead. As such, when I didn’t get accepted for the event I immediately got in touch with one of my favourite galleries to pitch an idea, and I’m thrilled that I now have dates on the calendar for my first solo show next summer.

If you feel like you’re struggling to make progress and you’re still waiting for that first ‘yes’, keep going. Get feedback on how you write about yourself, make sure your photos are great and seek feedback on your artwork. Keep at it, you will get there. Remember that you are the most important person on your journey, you are the only person whose validation you need to keep going. What does glass do for you? Why do you do it? Why do you love it? Keep going. And when you get that first ‘yes’, celebrate and keep climbing!