Thorns, prickles, and roses BY JANINE CROSS
People are not like roses. For starters, we don’t have thorns; though technically, neither do roses. Thorns are modified branches or stems, as found on lemon and mandarin orange trees. Roses have prickles, which are modified epidermal cells. Unlike the thick, waxy epidermis of the rose bush, human skin is soft and woefully devoid of defensive pointy prickles. Yet as writers, we’re often told that to achieve success, we must “grow a thick skin” against rejections. Well, I’m not a fragrant, showy bloom, so it’s no good telling me to grow a thick, defensive skin, with or without spiky protuberances. As a human, I’m not meant to. Human survival depends upon a cooperative society. Many of us buy food farmed by others, live in dwellings built by others, and wear clothing sewn by others. We depend upon group members to learn skills necessary to survive in diverse and often hostile environments. As psychologist and neuroscientist Mark Leary says, humans have “a pervasive drive to form and maintain at least a minimum quantity of lasting, positive, and impactful interpersonal relationships.”1
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wordworks | 2021 Volume III September
It’s been this way for eons. For our hunter-gatherer ancestors, individual survival depended upon being an integral part of a community. The more sensitized you were to the risk of ostracism and rejection, the quicker you could correct negative behaviour and ensure your continued existence in that community. This sensitivity to the risk of ostracism and rejection became, and remains, a necessary human trait. Neuroscientists have used brain imaging to track neurological responses to rejection and exclusion. People who were left out of group events displayed the same brain activity associated with physical pain.2 For us writers, then, the emotional pain of rejection— of being excluded from the “group” of the magazine or anthology or publishing imprint to which we’ve submitted our work—is a very real, physical pain. When our work is rejected, alarm bells clang inside our heads—at risk of ostracism; at risk of death! This alarm is intensified by the fact that we humans often see our work as part of our identities and an extension of ourselves. Evolution has formed our underlying neural and cognitive mechanisms to be this way as a means of survival, so “growing a thick skin”
