What's So Bad About Being Mad?

In Defense Of Anger

Before we start, I’d like to welcome those of you who’ve discovered Good Character by way of IN A FLASH, the new literary magazine for flash creative nonfiction I’m co-editing with my friends Kate, Casey, Cindy and Nina. I’m so happy to have you here!

The Story

I was watching the Harris/Trump presidential debate a few weeks ago and, like most viewers, found myself leaning toward the screen the moment Kamala Harris began her tirade on reproductive rights.

Hunched forward on my couch, I tried to figure out why I felt so compelled by her answer. It wasn’t just that I agreed with her. I also viscerally sensed her emotions coming through the screen in a way I rarely experience with Kamala Harris, as she’s so good at coming across with composure. And then I realized: I was compelled because she was angry. Passionately and personally— not just politically.

And that anger was good. It made me feel connected to her. It made me pump my fist in the air, point at the screen and yell, “Say it, Kamala!”

In short, her anger connected with me.

In recent years, anger has gotten a bad rap. We’ve been told that it’s a surface emotion, covering up something underlying, like fear, hurt or frustration. We’ve been told to embrace inner peace and calm. We’ve been sold meditation, yoga, and ASMR. Parents have been told to never show anger with their kids; you’re a bad mother if you yell, or tell them you’re mad, or storm away, or punch a pillow. You’re seen as a bad person if you acknowledge that you feel anger.

But anger is a natural human response, and it does have value. It can show people when we care about something; it can even allow us to speak deeper truths without overthinking. Anger has the potential to inspire and connect, just as sadness can signal vulnerability. Why are we told to honor tears, but not sparks?

Photo by Олег Мороз on Unsplash

Let me be clear: I’m a pacifist. I am against all violence. But I think one of the reasons violence happens is when we have anger and we don’t know what to do with it. If we were modeled healthy anger— like Kamala Harris, speaking truth in the face of damaging idiocy, or a mother roaring into the air when her child infuriates her (yes, I have done this), maybe we wouldn’t hold onto that anger for so long that it boils over into violence.

I started this post with a story about the debate between Harris and Trump. I was inspired by Harris’s anger. But others are inspired by Trump’s. He’s been angry for the entire time he’s been in politics, and his anger has led to horrible things, including violence on January 6th. Enough of us got angry about that to put his actions on trial and push back against his party in the next election. American politics has been a never-ending cycle of anger for the past decade or more. It’s been hard to live through. (Understatement, I know.)

But since there is anger in America, I say it’s better that we feel it. We can’t move past it until we do. If there is anger, let us articulate it clearly. Let us protest. Let’s not allow it to simmer. Let’s express it healthily— like Kamala Harris did on stage, but also in our own living rooms. Let’s debate with passion. Because that’s what democracy is. It’s all of our ideas pushing against each other. It’s necessary friction. Sometimes that will look like anger. We can let it out, let it go, and move on— together.

This was a nuanced, controversial topic to cover. I’d love to know what you think. Please leave me a comment!

Stuff You Might Like To Know

We’re currently in the middle of a submission call for IN A FLASH; until October 15, please submit pieces on the theme of STILL. We’ll be open again from November 1-15 on the theme of BODY. See our Submission Guidelines post for more details.

I’m reading IT’S ELEMENTARY by Elise Bryant and it’s the most fun I’ve ever had reading a murder mystery!

I’m baking Magic Bars with a pretzel-cracker crust. It’s the perfect combo of sweet and salty.

I’m watching Saturday Night Live for all the political satire— I love Maya Rudolph as Kamala Harris, and Bowen Yang is amazing as J.D. Vance. My husband and I watch the cold open with our coffee every Sunday morning.

Here’s to us, in all of our imperfect, striving goodness.

Keep hoping. Keep caring. Keep trying.