It has been an interesting summer so far. I finally got my driver’s license, so I’ve been enjoying the benefits of this freedom, but the places that I’ve been going haven’t been very exciting. I’ve been driving all over in search of a job, but I have been very unsuccessful so far. I picked up twelve applications, made a unique cover letter for each, and hand-delivered each one with a polite smile on my face, but I have not heard from a single business. What am I doing wrong? My parents advised me to follow up on the applications by calling each place, but those phone calls have not made even a little difference. I’m beginning to feel like my entire summer will be spent looking for a job, and the only thing that will come out of it will be wasted time and gas money. I know this is the wrong attitude to have and that I should have a little faith, but the dwindling economy and my lack of work experience is making that mindset a little hard to attain. But as much as I hate it, I’m going to continue my hunt and hope for the best.
I thought this summer was going to be really great. In April I applied to be picked for a week-long journalism workshop in Chicago held by the Asian American Journalists Association. It was completely free and offered an incredible experience working with professional journalists and other students who shared my love of writing as well. The only thing was that they only selected forty-two students. When I heard this, I had no worry at all, thinking that I would be able to make it in without a problem. I spent my entire spring break perfecting my application for the workshop, and mailed it in a week early just to make sure it was received on time. I waited for about a month with bated breath, only to receive a generic email that basically read, “Dear Applicant: We received many stellar applications this year. Unfortunately you were not one of them. Don’t be discouraged and have a nice life.” Needless to say, I was devastated. I felt like such a horrible writer, and was so upset that all of my time and effort had resulted in absolutely nothing. I wanted to attend that camp more than anything: I was literally obsessed. At night, I would type “J Camp” into Google and read anything that I could find about it. I was desperate to find more information about it, and when my research failed, I would end up reading the same things that I had read countless times before. I even found videos on YouTube about J Camp and would watch them longingly. I followed my mom’s advice on positive thinking, and I didn’t let an ounce of negativity seep through my mind. I even made a poster that had inspirational quotes and pictures of Loyola University, where J Camp was going to be held. My intent was that if I imagined myself there so much, it would eventually become a reality. But the instant I got that email, my heavily-desired dreams were flushed right down the toilet.
I could have handled this situation in a variety of different ways. I could have locked myself up in my room and cried for days, or sunk into a deep state of depression. But I realized that none of those options would be very productive. I decided to just move on with my life, as I’ve done so many times before after I’ve faced rejection. Yeah, it’s depressing that I wasn’t selected, but I’ve come to see that writers need to have thick skin. Some people are going to love your writing, others will hate it. But as hard as it may be, I am not going to let other people’s rejections and criticisms stop me from writing. I am going to be persistent and not give up. If anything, this rejection has just made me stronger, because it is just preparing me for what comes in every writer’s career.
So, instead of dwelling about where I could have been this summer, or where I could have been working if I had applied for a job earlier, I am just going to make the best out of my vacation. I’m grateful that there’s time for me to watch mindless shows on MTV, escape into the lives of the characters from the Gossip Girl books, and melt away my stresses in yoga classes at the gym. This summer may not have been what I expected, but honestly, how often do expectations come true?