Anger and the Hearings: Tuesday's Reflection

What a week it was! 

I was glued to the hearings for the Supreme Court justice this last week, as I am sure many of you were. I will continue to follow the process carefully, and I will send a letter of gratitude to Amy Klobuchar, who happens to be my senator and in a few weeks at the midterm election I will get to vote for her again. She may be a senator from Minnesota, but she clearly was representing many beyond her jurisdiction when she asked "Where is the bravery in this room?" and when she reminded the other committee senators that the constitution does not say, "'We the ruling party. ' The constitution says "We the people.'"

Her questions to Brett Kavanaugh and her steady demeanor when he tried to shake her with inappropriate questions will remain in my memory for a long time. Clearly, she was angry, but she directed her anger into focused clarity. 

Both Klobuchar and Kavanaugh were passionate, but one chose to rage, and the other didn't. How different would you respond if  Klobuchar had been the one to exhibit such open anger and Kavanaugh had instead lowered the tone of his voice and responded in a civil and measured manner?

And what about the difference between Dr. Ford and Kavanaugh? Or Lindsey Graham and Klobuchar or Feinstein? I imagine these hearings will someday be perfect subject matter for not only college political science courses, but also psychology classes. 

Aside from the political implications of the last few days, I have thought about my own anger; something I don't express openly very often, if at all. My anger is apt to dissolve into tears, as it does for many women.

Many years ago a therapist in a counseling session told me I could continue talking through my tears; that crying doesn't need to halt what I feel and need to express. It seems obvious, but had never occurred to me. That piece of advice has been helpful, for sure, but still I know I don't allow fury to surface. 

This summer my writing mentor mentioned after reading a draft of my memoir that she sensed some underlying and unexpressed anger   in my writing. On no! Do I have to go there? 

I dutifully pulled out my dog-eared and heavily marked up copy of The Dance of Anger, A Woman's Guide to Changing the Patterns of Intimate Relationships by Harriet Goldhor Lerner first published, would you believed, in 1985. And still in print. Order your copy now!

In the first chapter I met myself--again--right away in the first chapter, a section called "The 'Nice Lady' Syndrome." 
               ...we stay silent--or become tearful, self-critical,
               or 'hurt.' If we do feel anger, we keep it to ourselves
               in order to avoid the possibility of open conflict. 
               But it is not just our anger that we keep to ourselves;
               in addition, we may avoid making clear statements
               about what we think and feel, when we suspect
               that such clarity would make another person 
               uncomfortable and expose differences between us. 

Lerner refers to "a storehouse of unconscious anger and rage." 

Oh no! Do I have to go there?

So perhaps I need to go into that storehouse and see what's there that still matters now, and perhaps Amy K in her direct and clear self and her clarity about what truly matters can be my role model. 

I turned a couple more pages and read about "The 'Bitchy' Woman,"  a label that indicates how our society doesn't value angry women and how they are seen as threats, especially to men, and who need to be silenced. An angry woman who doesn't voice her anger effectively--with clarity, direction, and control- often is not taken seriously and is not heard. 

Once again, look to Amy K and her superpowers. She is not a "Bitchy Woman." Nor is she is the victim of the "Nice Lady Syndrome," which in my part of the world we call "Minnesota Nice." 

I will continue re-reading the Lerner book, for I know I still have work to do to become my authentic self and to bring that authenticity to my memoir. A friend reminded me that age 70 is a good time to do this!  (If not now, when!) But who knew I would find a role model in Washington!

An Invitation
How good are you at expressing your anger? I would love to know.