Sunni Dawson

I was pumped. Wide eyed, bushy-tailed third year law student, collecting for a cause I believed in, Amnesty International. My shift was 11am to 3pm.

‘Here’s your shirt Sunni.’

Clean, neat black and white shirt. Very recognisable. I felt part of the team. I’m going to do a good job and collect loads today.

‘So you can go with George and collect around the Queen St area here, you’ll get the lunch crowds.’

‘Ok, great. Let’s go! I think if we stand either side of the road, we’ll get more.’

‘Good plan.’

‘International Human Rights Day. Support Amnesty’s work.’ Presenting the black plastic container to a suited man, he strode past me. Ok then, maybe the next won’t be as snobby.

‘Human rights matters.’

Shaking the black plastic canister, I tried to catch the attention of a black stocking, high-heeled lady. No, right, ok.

This process went on for a while. A felt a euphoric facial glow grow with a few people slipping a couple of coins into my container.

‘How are you going?’ My fellow collector friend walked over to me.

‘Not so well. I thought everyone would give us money.’

‘Same here.’

‘I want to collect more.’

‘Yes, we have to be the highest collecting team.’

‘Yes.’

I moved away from her. ‘Support Amnesty International.’

‘No.’ A well-groomed gentleman meandered past.

Tears welled up in my eyes. Why am I crying? I can’t cry. This is stupid. I wiped tears from my eyes.

‘Support Amnesty International.’ More nothing.

The tears wouldn’t stop this time. I walked back to the office.

‘Are you ok Sunni? Did anything happen out there?’

More warm liquid poured down my cheeks. ’No, no, I’m just stressed.’

‘Are you sure, because we need to report any incidents.’

‘No, it’s all fine. I have to go. Is that ok?’

‘Sure, of course.’

I went home and cried for a good hour or two. Why wouldn’t people want to give to such a good cause? A cause that I believed in? It’s an internationally reputable organisation. I don’t understand.

…

Fast forward many moons, many life experiences, a variety of incredible work experiences, travel, to now.

‘Sunni, I’m going away for 2 weeks, it would be great if you could hand out flyers for me for an hour each day while I’m away.’

My friend has recently opened a not-for-profit cafe and bookstore in Siem Reap, Cambodia. It’s a beautiful cafe, great coffee and food. Most importantly is that 100% of profits go to educating young Cambodians. Critical to spreading the word and getting people to the cafe (it’s not in the main centre of town, but in a beautiful, quiet leafy street close by) is a westerner (and yes I hate this word) handing out flyers to tourists.

I agreed to do it because I knew I’d do a good job (I’m bubbly and friendly) and she really needed the help. The truth is, I wasn’t looking forward to it. At all. I knew I’d do it, and do the best I could do (in everything I do, I always put 139.99% plus into it, and then some).

The first two days went well. I handed out a lot of flyers. I found a difference during the day and at night. At night people seemed to be more comfortable ignoring me. The truth is, they probably had been hassled all day and probably just wanted to eat and drink (I dare you to walk down any street in Siem Reap without hearing the words ‘tuk tuk’ or ‘massaahh’ ). Fair enough.

There were as many people who ignored me as there were that accepted. And then I heard this:

‘Hey, come and give one to us. I hear the Aussie accent.’

A huge smile came across my face. I had a lovely conversation with a middle-aged couple from Brisbane. They promised to come the next day.

Over the past two weeks I have been ignored, said ‘no’ to, said ‘no thank you’ to (which I’ve found has been the most common), been told ‘yes’, ‘thank you’, ‘great, good to know.’

My favorite response, and he really made my day, was a large gentleman with ample tattoos and a bald head.

‘Great coffee. Good Cause.’ I smilingly presented him with a leaflet.

‘Good onya mate.’  I beamed. Gotta love Aussies.

Some rejections have also been interesting.

One woman scowled at me when I did my spiel to her little seated group. The guys around her were only slightly more polite.

I’ve noticed some people cross the street to avoid talking to me. One lady saw me, turned into looking at a shop and then once I had walked past, continued on her way. I knew she wasn’t looking at the things in the shop.

I sat opposite one couple in a gelato shop a day or so after they rejected my flyer. I casually glanced over their way, recognizing them (they were a particularly recognisable couple). The woman looked down and away avoiding eye contact. She looked embarrassed.

This happened with another couple I passed that day too. More embarrassed looks and eye contact avoidance.

I’ve changed. People saying no or ignoring me doesn’t affect me much. I say ‘much’ because sometimes after a string of ‘no’s’ I start to get a little worried if I’ll ever get another ‘yes.’ When this happens, I know me worrying about it doesn’t change it and doesn’t create positive vibes around me. So I developed a few techniques:

1. The first one, that I’ve found really works, is centering back in my heart (usually where my anxiety lies) and I calm down immediately. Focusing on my heart really settles me.
2. The second technique I do is start to admire the day, the weather, the prettiness of the river and statues along it. The simplicity of admiring the day gives me space from over-thinking.
3. The third technique is self talk. I say to myself that it’s such a good experience, I’m learning a lot. I’m really helping my friend out. It’s helping other tourists know about this great cafe (I really like this cafe too). It’s a good cause. Everyone should know about it.
4. I also remind myself that after a series of ‘no’s’ there will eventually be a ‘yes’.
5. And finally I remind myself that face to face contact works. When I went into the cafe after flyer-ing for an hour, I saw so many people come in who I’ve talked to. This gives me a high. The cafe was full one day with all ‘my people’ and there wasn’t enough tables for everyone. Remembering this helps).

Another positive is that I haven’t shed a tear. Not one in two consistent weeks of flyer-ing. I am different to my bright-eyed early 20s self. I know I have a huge load more resilience. And very strong self-esteem (I’ve worked on this for many, many years). I know my self-esteem is high because I don’t get upset when my flyer is rejected. Even though I take my job seriously, it is not a rejection of me necessarily. There may be a whole range of factors causing a ‘no’ response from people. And I believe that most of these reasons won’t be about me. And even if they don’t like me, that’s ok. There are plenty of other people who do.

I really understand now, which I didn’t back then, that I took the rejection of people not popping their small change into an Amnesty collection container personally. I was personally identified with not only the organization but my role in it. I saw it as a rejection of me. And my values and beliefs.

Now I don’t see it like that. I know I want to do a good job for my friend and for the great goals of the cafe. But they are not rejecting me, or even necessarily the cafe. There are possibly hundreds of reasons for saying ‘no’ (they might be leaving in a few hours, they might not have time, they might only like going to their favorite cafes, they might only like supporting causes they know, they might not like change, they might just like eating at their hotel, they might hate flyers, they might not want to go to the quiet street but stay in the busy area etc etc. The reasons are innumerable). And that’s all ok.

I’ve learnt a lot from these 2 weeks. I’ve found it fascinating the types of people who accepted my flyer and also the idea of flyer-ing being a wonderful growth opportunity… so much so, I’ve written two blog posts about it. Stay tuned for Part 2: ‘Flyer-ing as a social experiment and self development opportunity’.