I'm f*cking angry.
And I won't suppress it.
Today, I don’t feel particularly eloquent, and I don’t have the energy to muster my own words of comfort or camaraderie. And I do not feel compelled to relate anything I am about to say to writing or navigating academia because this moment is, of course, larger than that.
If you’re okay with that, then keep reading.
Since I’m struggling to find my own words, I first thought I’d turn to the voices of greater minds—those who’ve urged us away from despair and toward hope. I was searching for something like MLK’s “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.”
I looked to Dr. King, to James Baldwin, to bell hooks, to Howard Zinn, and to John Lewis, hoping they could better articulate what I was feeling. But despite the hope, resolve, and solidarity woven into their words, they left me feeling hollow instead.
I realized it’s because I’m not ready for hope or resolve. Not yet. Right now, I need to express something else:
I’m fucking angry.
I’m so angry, in fact, that I’ve typed and retyped why I’m angry, but my words don’t quite capture the depth of it yet.
Yes, I’m angry because my country would rather elect a white demagogue with “concepts of plans” than a Black woman who actually has plans. But I’m also angry at ideologies that pretend to uplift the working class yet actually harm them. I’m angry that a so-called democracy sanctions rampant gerrymandering and voter suppression. I’m angry that intelligence is sneered at as elitism, and that disinformation seeps through every crack. I’m angry at blatant institutionalized racism, sexism, xenophobia, homophobia, and transphobia. I’m angry that trans folks, queer folks, women folks, Black and brown folks, and undocumented folks fear for not just their rights but also for their lives.
In searching for wiser words than mine to justify my anger, I came across a passage from Soraya Chemaly that explains why we—particularly the we that are women—should embrace anger.
Anger doesn’t have to lead to detrimental behavior or to hatred. It can, instead, be a powerful precursor for change.
I’m sharing those words with you today in the hope that some of you will also find yourselves in them.
Anger is an assertion of rights and worth. It is communication, equality, and knowledge. It is intimacy, acceptance, fearlessness, embodiment, revolt, and reconciliation. Anger is memory and rage. It is rational thought and irrational pain. Anger is freedom, independence, expansiveness, and entitlement. It is justice, passion, clarity, and motivation. Anger is instrumental, thoughtful, complicated, and resolved. In anger, whether you like it or not, there is truth.
Anger is the demand of accountability. It is evaluation, judgment, and refutation. It is reflective, visionary, and participatory. It's a speech act, a social statement, an intention, and a purpose. It's a risk and a threat. A confirmation and a wish. It is both powerlessness and power, palliative and a provocation. In anger, you will find both ferocity and comfort, vulnerability and hurt. Anger is the expression of hope.
How much anger is too much? Certainly not the anger that, for many of us, is a remembering of a self we learned to hide and quiet. It is willful and disobedient. It is survival, liberation, creativity, urgency, and vibrancy. It is a statement of need. An insistence of acknowledgment. Anger is a boundary. Anger is boundless. An opportunity for contemplation and self-awareness. It is commitment. Empathy. Self-love. Social responsibility. If it is poison, it is also the antidote. The anger we have as women is an act of radical imagination. Angry women burn brighter than the sun.
In the coming years, we will hear, again, that anger is a destructive force, to be controlled. Watch carefully, because not everyone is asked to do this in equal measure. Women, especially, will be told to set our anger aside in favor of a kinder, gentler approach to change. This is a false juxtaposition. Reenvisioned, anger can be the most feminine of virtues: compassionate, fierce, wise, and powerful. The women I admire most—those who have looked to themselves and the limitations and adversities that come with our bodies and the expectations that come with them—have all found ways to transform their anger into meaningful change. In them, anger has moved from debilitation to liberation.
Your anger is a gift you give to yourself and the world that is yours. In anger, I have lived more fully, freely, intensely, sensitively, and politically. If ever there was a time not to silence yourself, to channel your anger into healthy places and choices, this is it.
―Soraya Chemaly, Rage Becomes Her: The Power of Women's Anger
Well said and thank you - expressing what was in my mind and heart. Not only sad for America, I am sad and angry for women, and I am fully aware of the wide ranging consequences of this misogynistic decision that will cause so much harm to the world. I sort of feel that you could send your blog and the words from Soraya Chemalyyou that you shared to the Harris campaign - I am sure they'd also appreciate it!
I am with you. I wrote postcards, made calls, and was super enthusiastic about Kamala Harris. I am furious that he got 3 million fewer votes than last time. People did not show up, and now we will pay the price.
Yesterday I was incapacitated, trying to revive today and remember that WE are still here, we will do our best to make the world a better place. We'll need better writers, so let's do what we can to help others express themselves, share, and build community.