Many of my friends are applying for librarian jobs and getting rejection letters. They are smart, talented, creative, kind, skilled, full of energy and ideas, but they're not finding jobs because of the lousy economy. I wish they weren't getting rejection letters but, if they are, I hope the letters they receive are not harsh or impersonal ones. I hate those. They hurt. They really do. Those kind of letters diminish one as a person and they diminish the writer as well.
I hope that if they have to get rejection letters, that they get one like the one I received from Ravelry. Along with about a gazillion other people (actually about 1500, but who's counting?) I applied for a position as their community support person. What a fun job that would have been! I spent a few hours writing out my application and resume and sent it off to them on the very last day they were accepting applications, not with the expectation of actually being offered the job, but just because it was fun to do and who knows? You don't get anything if you don't ask, right?
Still, it was no surprise to get a rejection letter. It didn't hurt. Perhaps because I hadn't had my heart set on the job. Perhaps because I'd only applied as a lark and wasn't serious about it. Not really. Well, maybe just a little bit.
I knew Ravelry had sent out hundreds and hundreds of identical letters to all the other rejected applicants and in fact, they admitted it was a form letter. But still, their letter was gracious. It was kind. It didn't say "sorry, we found someone else and the position is closed". It didn't imply I was somehow lacking or inept or "what in the world were you thinking applying for this job!" After reading it, I felt okay with Ravelry. And okay with myself.
So for all my friends still looking for that perfect position, I know you will find it. It's right there, over the horizon. Be patient. It's coming. And I hope, as you wait, you do not allow rejection letters to discourage you and prevent you from looking and sending in more applications because that next one may be the one. I believe that. And, more importantly, I believe in you.