Anger, Public and Personal

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BY JOELLEN COLLINS

JoEllen Collins—a longtime resident of the Wood River Valley—is a teacher, writer, fabric artist, choir member and unabashedly proud grandma known as “Bibi Jo.”

This is not a column about the “Me, Too” movement, though the emotions around it, from both females and males, pacifists and activists, Republicans and Democrats, and all the vast undecided in between, have run higher than most Americans have ever seen, perhaps since the sixties and seventies.

In 1968, a year well-recounted recently in celebration of its 50th anniversary, U.S. citizens saw prominent issues peak, stimulating debate and involvement: the Vietnam War, civil rights, the assassinations of revered leaders, the displays of “freer” love, civil disobedience, and women’s liberation were prime causes for debate and demonstration.

My generation had been taught never to discuss religion or politics as guests or at the dinner table (in an era where families usually dined together every night), so many of us were aghast, though also excited, at the omnipresent discussions and demonstrations of anger aimed at the status quo. Many of us did eventually stand up for our beliefs in ways we had never imagined.

As a society, we have experienced changes that would not have occurred had citizens not learned that expressing anger could encourage change. I found a quote that chronicles this emotion’s power in “The New Yorker.”

Rebecca Traister, in her book Good and Mad: The Revolutionary Power of Women’s Anger, suggests that “‘women’s anger spurs creativity and drives innovation in politics and social change.” Now, however, many of us are dealing with examples of rage and divisiveness in our country which seem to have gone overboard and disrupted patterns of civility in public places and even among families.

In my case, I am having a hard time dealing with the emotions attached to anger, even if it may be justified. I won’t argue the issues around the recent Supreme Court nominee hearings, as I believe they are so complex and ugly that there is not time in this brief column, and even in hours of reading and contemplation, to find a solid conclusion. I do feel anger welling in me over the whole fiasco—the diatribes, the tempting 15-moments-of-celebrity behavior in front of cameras, the pubic humiliation of people on both sides of the confirmation debacle, and the fear that our democratic principles are being eroded by the egos of the powerful.

Having barely ever exhibited anger, except in the confines of my own home or car, or with like-minded friends, I have finally been able to honor that emotion, although I also fear that this is a mixed blessing. I agree with Mark Twain, also quoted in the above New Yorker article, who said, “Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.”

Uncomfortable with anger, I think what we do with this strong emotion is an essential component of living in this chaotic world. I need to be courageous and explore this behemoth of feelings, both personal and civic.