S1 E4 Why saying NO is your responsibility, not just a right
One of the subjects we study under Mass Communication is event management. As part of the practical, the third year organises a mega media festival each year — as our project and as “a display of academic excellence.” That’s not a legacy any institution would let go off easily. So, we organised the fest online this time. I was responsible for a sub-event under the same.
Now, one of the most the most important aspect of organising an event is getting sponsorship. No money, no honey! Even though we had less to offer in terms of promoting the brands that would choose to associate with us, we prepared a pretty decent proposal, offering alternate branding opportunities from what we usually did in the traditional fests.
We shortlisted the organisations most relevant to our event and sent them proposals over mail. One week on, we got no responses. Couple of days later we sent follow up messages over Instagram and other messaging platforms. Two weeks, we still got no response. Finally, around three weeks later, we got our first reply. And I got a little emotional even before I read their message. It didn’t matter whether they agreed or not, but the simple fact that they respected us enough to care to reply was enough. It was a rejection, but it was still more satisfying than all the other ‘no response.’
Of course, that was not the first time when I had to assume no response meant no. Right after school, when I was applying for colleges, only a single college (from the ones I had applied to) bothered to let me know I was not selected. I cried at the time because of my immaturity and inexperience in handling rejection, but that was also the day I learnt to handle professional rejection. Ever since, having applied for numerous internships, I have come across those who let me know my submissions were terrible for their required profile, and I have come across those who couldn’t even let me know if and when the status of the application will be shared. And mind you, I am just asking the status, not even the direct question whether or not I have been selected.
You see, we as a society have accepted that no response has to be assumed as no. That apparently, you do not have to let the other person know if the answer is no. Haven’t you come across those overly romanticised posters reading, “No answer is also an answer. And it’s a strong one.” Shut up Lisa. No answer is your inability to communicate in a healthy manner, whether professionally or personally. Grow up.
Now, I am fully aware the response I will get from some of you on the lines of — organisations can’t waste their time informing each and every applicant or marketing agent that they are not suitable for them. They have more important work to do.
Really? Do they really not have the time or resources to do that? Or is it just that they do not respect you enough to bother replying? If few organisations can do that, all them can. We just don’t have that culture. The culture where we value each other’s time and openly communicate. The culture where its rude not reply instead of replying in negative.
There’s the other side of the story as well. Those who do bother to reply, are often pursued despite them clarifying otherwise. Their rejection, and the politeness to reply is seen as an opportunity to convince them. Don’t we have enough Bollywood movies around that? Haven’t sales executives called you four times after you told them that you don’t want to buy a house for you can barely afford your rent!
The problem is we don’t know how to say or accept a no. We have grown up watching movies that glorify and justify violence on rejection. We have romanticised false rejections and the consequential convincing that follows. We don’t have a culture where we appreciate and accept healthy and open communication and respect people for their decisions. As I see it, if we can all learn to do that, a romantic rejection wouldn’t hurt egos and prompt suicides or murders. Because a yes would not be a default. And a no would not be an out of the world response. It’s a far-fetched idea, but I hope we reach there.
