High school trainees in the United States are taking on the ruthless procedure of college applications with rejection celebrations, the New York Times reported recently. At one school, trainees bring along a hard copy of their college rejections, ceremonially feed them into a shredder, then get an ice-cream; there is a reward for the most declined. It sounds terrific: a cathartic, cumulative “screw you” to a damaged system, utilizing enjoyable to salve the discomfort.
I question if owning rejection is much easier in the United States, where there is at least a partial sense that failure is okay; it’s thought about a knowing chance and an essential part of the origin story. The Silicon Valley slogan “stop working quickly, stop working typically” took hold since failure was viewed as a sign of audacity and a desire to attempt. Rejection is an especially stinging subset of failure, however the concept stays: you took the shot; it didn’t settle; you attempt once again.
The problem with that story– and with great deals of failosophy– is that it suggests a redemptive arc, a peak from which you can point back to the days in the doldrums and state: take a look at me now. Life is typically a haphazard stagger around, rather than a cinematic journey– and we understand that, truly. I believe this is why the basketball gamer Giannis Antetokounmpo’s madly articulate action to a concern about whether his season was a failure went viral: “Some days you’re able to succeed, some days you’re not … Simple as that.”
The maturity and psychological sincerity of these kids is shaming and motivating. I have actually constantly concealed my rejections like filthy tricks and done whatever I can to prevent getting more– significance, obviously, that I never ever take the shot.
There are couple of things I might have discovered more valuably at school than how to handle rejection sanely; I truly believe it would have altered