The staff and faculty of Rock Valley College generously invited me to their professional development day on Tuesday, September 2nd. “PDD” is a full day of workshops and talks designed to update employees on new developments at the college and in higher ed, and bring colleagues together in a space of shared learning and camaraderie. While my schedule did not permit me to attend the full day of festivities, I was able to make the keynote by Rockford son Bing Liu.
Bing is one of those speakers whose style of speaking is somehow both understated and dynamic, and I was thrilled to finally have the opportunity to see him. He is establishing himself as a filmmaker out in the world, but back home here in Rockford, he is a bonafide celebrity. When I learned he would be keynoting RVC’s PDD I re-watched his Oscar-nominated documentary Minding the Gap about the skating scene in Rockford, which I highly recommend.
For his talk, Bing read his essay from the forthcoming Rockford Anthology. I about jumped out of my seat when he announced he was doing this, as I had read an earlier draft in the manuscript. “Prepare to be rocked” I said quietly to the hundred people in the audience. The essay is a powerful (and beautifully written) commentary on childhood abuse, diaspora, and generational trauma. It’s not a comfortable read, but it is familiar, which is what makes it so compelling.
Going into the PDD, I already had a draft of this Substack letter written on the topic of rejection. It was simmering over the heat of revision. I had planned to write about my feelings in the wake of a particularly difficult rejection I’d received recently for my proposal to the Association of Writers and Writing Programs (AWP) conference this spring. To be clear: I have never had a proposal accepted to this conference. It’s highly selective, and it’s huge. This cycle, only like 23% of proposals were accepted. I am an enthusiastic attendee, always, and still plan to travel to Baltimore in the spring for the conference. Still, I was mightily disappointed to see the rejection email in my inbox, as this time my proposal checked just about every box:
Submitted as a panel, not an individual
Panelists were from diverse backgrounds and writing-related industries
Panel topic was on something specific and concrete, yet widely applicable
Potential first time presenter
Mostly, I figured I’d bee accepted because my proposal was on a red-hot topic with more appeal than any I’ve proposed before: the intersection of writing and politics. I proposed to walk attendees through how I parlayed my skills as a writer into a successful political campaign and then provide practical tools on how to market, raise money, create a PAC, canvas, and connect with members of the community who will help you succeed. I remember thinking “If this doesn’t get accepted, I don’t know what will.”
Acceptances are mostly driven by the taste and preference of the submission reader. Even if a rubric is used to score applicants, there is no real science to it. I don’t say this to be dismissive or diminish those proposals that were accepted or soothe my disappointed feelings. I know this as a writer who gets many, many rejections every year, and as an editor who reads many, many submissions. I can acknowledge the reality that this proposal did not resonate with whomever it was assigned to at AWP.
Which brings me back to Bing Liu’s essay. His essay is about big failures; failures in parenting, failures in the social safety net of our society, failures in immigration policy, failures in key supports for our most vulnerable community members. It is not about a failed bid to present at a writer’s conference. What ties these topics together (for me at least), however, is that the essay speaks to the quiet ways in which we get up in the morning and put one foot in front of the other in the service of art. It is about seeking out our passions, which comes with a fair amount of failure. The power of his essay isn’t in how extraordinary his life is in the face of hardship (don’t get it twisted— he is extraordinary!); it’s about the power of ordinary acts of perseverance. When I frame rejection as an ordinary experience, like taking out the garbage or going grocery shopping, it is easier for me to metabolize it and move forward. That’s a lesson I needed at PDD, and I suspect other members of the audience appreciated it as well.