We can be angry and useful, angry and productive, angry and righteous. Lucky for us, though, multiple things can be true. I’ve thought, and thought, and thought about this, and I never come up with a substantive enough rebuttal to do away with the bitterness entirely. We aren’t always or even usually treated well. I know what it feels like for anger to fester into rage, rage into bitterness, and bitterness into misery: Why can’t the world be fair? Why aren’t I treated better? Why am I trapped in such a cold, cruel reality?Īnd worst of all, BNB? The ugliest thing nestled in the ugliest place of that ugly, knotted root is the unsettling fact that, well, the bitterness is kind of correct. I know what it’s like to feel anger that doesn’t have anywhere to go. What you do need, though, is to be right with yourself. The thing is, BNB, you don’t need to be “approachable.” That sounds coded to me, and it’s long been the case, especially for Black people (I don’t know what your situation is), that “angry” and “unapproachable” have been deployed where “advocates for themselves” or “refuses to be bossed around” are more accurate descriptions. Feeling like you’re losing your compassion is another. Making people uncomfortable for a good cause is one thing. It can fuel movements, it can right wrongs, and it can invite others to gain insight into our sentiments. I have to wonder why that is, because I think anger can actually be a bridge that brings people together for collective action. In your letter, anger is on the other side of being “caring, compassionate, capable, and available.” For example, you position it to be in conflict with being a good person. So instead of talking about “anger” as if it were this pure universal element, why don’t we talk about your anger, which I think you’ve articulated in an interesting way. Anger can bring a mighty institution to its knees, or it can eat you alive from the inside until there’s nothing left. There is righteous anger, jealous anger, anger at yourself, and anger with the world. That being said, what you and I call “anger” is actually at least a hundred thousand different emotional cocktails with different iterations and expressions. You think I’m going to sit here and tell you not to be angry? No. To pay even the slightest bit of attention right now is to be angry. I regrettably have nothing on tap that will make you less angry, BNB. Such is the chaos of our unpredictable age. Were you expecting that? Of course you weren’t. But there are certainly degrees of uncertainty, and we do find ourselves in some of the least certain of all. I have never lived in a time where anything was certain. For the record, I don’t believe in Certain Times™. Goodness, looks like I’m going to be yet another entity addressing These Uncertain Times™. So please, tell me, Papi, how do I manage? How do I stay supportive and caring when I feel like a hungry hyena who only wants to go into the fight to see how many bites it can get out of the lion before it gets mauled to death?
My gay friends are angry, my straight friends don’t get me, and I’ve started to concern some of them because of my increasingly explosive behavior. I can’t take it anymore, and all my therapist said when trying to work through my encounters with the police was something along the lines of “but they’re not allowed to do that! You should have spoken up and stood up for your rights.” Yeah.
Papi papi video windows#
I want to go out to throw stones at windows and burn everything. I feel like all I’ve done has been for nothing. Some people I know were forcefully disappeared during some protests last week and now I can’t manage to keep my cool at any given time anymore. I’ve had my rodeos with police abuse, both through friends and directed at me. I tried to be caring, compassionate, capable, and available. I learned to be there for people when they needed it. People have told me I’m intimidating and, as I grew tired of people being afraid of me, I’ve been trying to become a better and more approachable person. I’m angry at the world, and at the people that live in it. I’m facing a reality that I can’t avoid anymore: I’m angry.
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