Rejections

Many people I have met love to tell me no.

The sheer volume of rejections I've received could fill an epic novel rivaling Anna Karenina. And today, I want to share one of my favorites.

When I was 28, an instructor, esteemed as an experienced public library librarian and record management expert, told me that I could never be hired by any academic libraries in Canada. His reasoning? “They don’t hire people who look like you.”

I was in the midst of earning my Diploma in Library & Information Technology. This senior, white, male instructor, who had taught our record management courses, told me bluntly to give up on my career goals.

I can still vividly picture that small office where we sat together: a desk on his right, no window, no sunlight, books overflowing on the shelves. He started by complimenting the dark green sweater I was wearing that day. Then, he suggested that moving to the UK might make my life easier. Finally, after dismissing my dreams to work at libraries, he advised me to marry a white guy and stay in Canada.

At the time, I wasn’t that young but was still somewhat naïve and struggling with my English. Maybe he thought he was being helpful, but I recognized his words as a moment of misogyny and microaggression. “He must think he’s better than most people,” I thought to myself.

Discouraging someone who knows what she wants and is striving for it? To say “give up” solely based on my skin color and accent?

I knew that not everyone can work at an academic library. Systemic discrimination and elitism could certainly prevent someone like me from working there. But if someone like me wanted to work in their libraries to help international students and support their academic success—something they had failed to offer—then they should consider hiring a person like me.

And I knew I could make it happen. He was wrong. That much I knew.

For a long time, I used this story as motivation, reminding myself that I could make anything happen and that I should never belittle myself. He told me I couldn’t, and yet, somehow, I did anyway. I was hired by one of the top university libraries just one year later.

This instructor, like many people I’ve encountered, was obsessed with sabotaging others’ dreams and goals. They think they know better, or they believe that someone like me—a Chinese, non-native English speaker, and an immigrant—cannot achieve the life they once dreamed of. They didn’t think I deserved it. They weren’t just rejecting me or others; they were rejecting themselves. “I will show them,” I thought.

But, it’s only recently that I’ve realized, with five years of remarkable work at the university behind me, that I probably wasn’t fully prepared for the challenges and wolves I would face. In a way, that instructor helped me to find my own uniqness and point I can never be replaced — I am good at changes — which gave me a fresh start

It has been nearly seven years since he told me to consider not bothering and just marrying a white person. Now, I am older, wiser, and conscious enough to recognize that his words stemmed from the roots of colonization, racism, and fetishism. But it also gave me the chance to learn about myself, better and deeper.

I have since left the library profession after three years and moved on to data science and information system analysis. Along the way, I discovered other passions like writing, project management, podcasting, and literary translation. I am thoroughly enjoying what I do and am thrilled to find that I have so many different potentials.

The instructor told me no. So, I honor that rejection, writing down the experience and sharing it here. I honor that moment. He said no, but I said yes. And I made it happen, and even better.

all copyright reserve ©Cordelia Shan