Confessions of Rejection: Pushing Forward in Creative Pursuit.
Creative rejection is inevitable. What matters is how you respond and keep moving toward your goals.
Over a month ago I received a rejection email for an opportunity I haven’t spoken publicly about. At the start of the year, and at the recommendation of many of my peers, I applied for the Nasir (Nas) Jones Hip-Hop Fellowship, an academic fellowship through Harvard University’s Hutchins Center for African & African American Research. The award, named after Nas, is the first of its kind to be named after a hip-hop artist and is intended for scholars and artists who “demonstrate exceptional capacity for increased scholarship and exceptional creative ability in the arts in connection with hip-hop.”
The rejection was the third consecutive one I received since the start of 2026, but it arguably stung the most. As I approach the final six months of my time as a member of the 2025-2026 Artists at Work cohort, I hoped to pivot to the fellowship at Harvard to continue participating in rigorous creative practice supported by access to the resources of a world-renowned institution of higher learning.
More than anything, I needed to have something to look forward to when the clock ran out on my cohort year – a fulfilling program that pays me twice a month and provides health insurance to live and work as a creative practitioner.
Applications for the Nasir Jones Fellowship were received from scholars and artists around the world, and the Hutchins Center selected only 20 recipients. I felt I had a strong project description, compelling letters of recommendation, a realistic timeline for completion and a quality concept that warranted an academic year of research and creation. Though it was a long shot, I wished with all of my might for an acceptance message that would welcome me into the prestigious group of fellowship recipients.
I believed I checked all the boxes the program was seeking and that my proof of concept was dope enough to validate being selected.
I wanted the opportunity to have my name listed and all the amenities that came with being chosen. I had not previously said that out loud. I had been sitting with the disappointment of allowing my optimism to create a pathway that was never guaranteed.
For those of us who live as independent creatives, certain opportunities can be transformational – not only for our economic bottom line, but also by bolstering us into communities and placing us on the radar of those who can enhance our lot in life. I allowed my tunnel vision of an unpromised future to distort the very real possibility of a letdown and as a consequence found myself in a mini depressive state when my hopes did not materialize.
In the aftermath of the fellowship denial, I decided to pause submitting for opportunities until I feel comfortable to restart the process of ‘tossing my hat in the ring.’ Admittedly, there are things I can work on to improve my submissions but ultimately my decision to take a step back is to allow myself time to recalibrate. I do not want to pursue outcomes with an assembly-line practice of churning out applications.
I need to give my energy a break and do more soul searching around what opportunities I truly want and what level of rigor I am willing to exercise in order to generate the results I desire.
It is easy for independent artists and creatives to become disheartened when we subscribe to the myth of scarcity and fall into the belief that every rejection moves us one step further from our dreams and objectives. But we must reject any noise in our heads that tells us to stop trying.
There’s nothing wrong with taking a pause for the cause, but there is something unacceptable about throwing in the towel completely. Especially when there is always an opportunity to re-strategize, put a little more care into our efforts and borrow lessons from missteps we can identify. And though it can be difficult to embrace the concept that “rejection is protection,” we should always accept that what is meant for us, we will have.
And whatever is not supposed to be within our grasp was not meant for our hands to hold. No matter how bad we might have wanted it.
