By Andrea Scarpino
Los Angeles
A couple of weeks ago, my friend Chris gave me an Eve Ensler piece called “Fur is Back” about a woman who is angry. Angry at how women are treated around the world, at patriarchy, at American Imperialism. Angry that when you mention the terrible things that go on, you’re not very fun anymore, you ruin the party. You’re just angry. That old stereotype: the angry feminist.
But I was raised with parents who took anger seriously. My father and grandmother once had such a terrific argument that they threw eggplants and tomatoes at each other. My father wasn’t afraid to tell you when he was angry, and while that sometimes scared me or hurt my feelings as a child, the truth is, I learned that anger is healthy to express, that sometimes we need to rage a little bit in order to be honest with one another. That after anger is through, we can come together again, our relationship just as strong. My mother, too, can articulate her anger in great detail, and especially when I was little, used it to fight for me against school systems that weren’t accommodating, against doctors who didn’t take me seriously.
So when conflict arises, I run straight into it, try to figure it out, work through it. And it feels good, that puzzling. Even when it doesn’t. And yet, I think most Americans would prefer not to show anger, would prefer if women especially didn’t show it. Would prefer not to acknowledge it. Which has made me feel very lonely at times—that girl at the party bringing down everyone. Insisting on a movie’s sexism when everyone else just wants to laugh, insisting on looking for problematic undercurrents and bringing them up to everyone’s distaste. As Ensler writes, I am the person who, for some reason, has to see it, say it, and make everyone aware. And later, and I am ruining the party, embarrassing my friend.
But I think, when confronted by racism, by sexism, by any sort of discrimination based on a body’s weight, ability, color, genitalia, by any sort of mistreatment, oppression, anger is the appropriate response. Sadness, too, frustration. But anger is what motivates us to act, to picket, to write our senators, to work for presidential elections. It can be empowering, successful. It can be an agent of change, help us better the world. So I would like to reclaim anger, reclaim its expression, encourage people who are uncomfortable with anger to sit with it for a while, to see how it can work in their life. Instead of turning our backs on anger, trying to brush it under the rug, I would like to harness its creative potential, its ability to help us see ourselves and the world around us more clearly.
As Sister Joan Chittister, a Benedictine nun, wrote, Anger is not bad. Anger can be a very positive thing, the thing that moves us beyond the acceptance of evil.
And William Saroyan: Try as much as possible to be wholly alive, with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell and when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.
Andrea Scarpino is the west coast Bureau Chief of POTB. You can visit her at:
I feel as if I am a comrade-in-arms — thank you for this moving and articulate post. Thank you.
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Thank you for writing this, Andrea. Over the years, you’ve taught me a lot about the efficacy of righteous anger. I used to be one of those women who said, “I’m a feminist, but not an angry one.” Now I think if you’re a feminist and you aren’t angry, at least part of the time, you’re probably not paying much attention to how women–and all kinds of other people–are being treated in the world.
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