Rejection: Not the End, Just the Reroute

Reflections on a first journal rejection—and the decision to keep going anyway

I remember the moment clearly. I’d clicked “submit” on my article, watched the loading bar disappear, and felt that heady mix of nerves, pride and relief. I’d done it. I had submitted to a top-tier journal in my field. Now… I waited.

And then, the email arrived.

It wasn’t good news.

My article——was rejected by the British Journal of Music Education. And I’ll be honest: it stung.

This was a piece of work I was proud of. I’d poured months of reading, writing and reflecting into it. It came from a deeply personal place—my lived experience as a teacher, curriculum leader, and researcher trying to make sense of power and voice in music education policy. I believed in it.

So, reading the reviewers’ feedback was hard. Not because it was unkind—it wasn’t—but because it was honest. And because they were right.

The feedback was rich and detailed. They questioned the depth of analysis, the weight given to methodology and positionality, and the clarity of argument. They challenged the balance of sources, the framing for international readers, and the rigour of the textual critique. They even queried whether I had chosen the right analytical concepts.

All fair. All valid.

And yet... disheartening.

So What Next?

At that moment, I faced a fork in the road. I could revise thoroughly and try again with BJME… or pivot and look elsewhere. I chose the second option.

I made a few key changes—tightened the argument, streamlined the framing, and shifted the emphasis slightly—and submitted to the Journal of Popular Music Education (JPME) instead.

Why JPME? Because the article’s heart lies in questioning traditional hierarchies of musical knowledge—exactly the kind of critical dialogue that JPME welcomes. The journal’s focus on inclusion and diverse voices in music education felt like a better home for the kind of questions I was asking.

In hindsight, perhaps I should have addressed the BJME feedback point-by-point and returned to them. But in that moment, I felt strongly that this work needed to be shared—and soon. I wasn’t ready to wait another full cycle. I wanted it out in the world, sparking debate.

The Bigger Picture

Rejection is part of the process. I knew that. But going through it reminded me that publication isn’t just about writing—it’s about rewriting, reflecting, and sometimes repositioning.

The feedback I received—though difficult—taught me more about academic writing than any textbook. It sharpened my voice. It pushed me to think harder about audience, clarity, and purpose. And it confirmed what I already suspected: publishing is never a straight line.

So if you’re facing rejection: breathe. Reflect. Regroup. And know that one “no” doesn’t define the worth of your work.

I still believe in this article. And wherever it ends up, I know it’s stronger for the journey.