Anger into Action
Fuel, fear, and our shared humanity
This has been a heavy week in the Twin Cities.
Heads are down lower than usual, and it’s not the slick sidewalks as we shuffle and slide through a weird January thaw. I can feel tension everywhere. In the shoulders of couples walking, the hushed conversations at bars and in between sets at the gym. Drivers seem touchier. Even the trees seem to be holding their breath. Only the squirrels seem oblivious. I envy them.
After the killing of Renee Good in Minneapolis last week by an ICE officer, few here are untouched by anger. Native Minnesotans are mostly holding it close, as is their way, seething in silence. But others are not so restrained.
I was not immune. I felt a rage I had not felt in many years, a rage I knew immediately to be toxic. Rage is seductive. It releases enough chemicals within us to feel like action, but in the end, rage can only lead to exhaustion without effect. So I strapped on a pair of ice spikes for my boots, stepped out my door, and walked. And thought.
And as I did, rage softened to anger, which softened into a focus on doing something, anything, to make this world of ours a better place. And by “world” I really mean, in order: my neighborhood, my city of St. Paul, my state, then my nation.
Anger is fuel. It is a Molotov cocktail, a stony glare with a gun. Anger is not wisdom. It is not a plan. The fuel it feeds can burn down a city, convince Americans to turn on other Americans, or worse, view other Americans as somehow less American. But that fuel can, paradoxically, also cook a meal for someone in need. The difference is where it’s aimed.
None of this is theoretical. We all know what happens when anger runs unchecked. Gang wars. Car bombs in Belfast and Beirut. Even genocide.
Most of what we argue about happens far away, on screens, between people who will never meet. It feels urgent. It feels important. Even moreso when what happens is not so far away. But fury rarely makes our own streets safer, kinder, or more resilient.
Too many people spend far too much time, effort and money tearing things down, and not enough energy — fuel — supporting those things that lift up our communities, our neighbors, our cities and towns.
All of those entities are made up of people. Some look and think like you. Some do not. But they are part of your community nonetheless. And they are human. E Pluribus Unum: out of many, one. What to do?
Maybe you check in on a neighbor you haven’t spoken to in a while… or, you know, ever. Maybe you volunteer, as I do, at a local food shelf. Or wander into a local store owned by a local person and buy something there. I just did this last week when instead of Amazon or wherever, I walked into the Finn Sisu ski shop, where they were overjoyed to help me with my very first cross country skis, boots, poles and bindings. My money stayed local.
Maybe you sign up to teach others a skill you possess, or do it privately. Maybe instead of ignoring the guy asking for spare change on your block, you look him in the eye and ask him what he needs, what his story is. I’ve done this countless times in my life, and am rarely disappointed. Usually you get a helluva tale for a cup of coffee and a few bucks. And you and another human got to connect as fellow humans.
But I get it: Many in my world have long grown tired of other humans. Understandable, in a way, although I hope to never reach such a state. But even in this frame of mind, you can still lift up your community. No place in this nation is not in need of human stewardship. No streams, no swamps, no forests or grasslands. A river doesn’t give a damn about your politics. A trail doesn’t reward your opinions. They respond only to care, patience, and work — collective work.
No matter what you’re thinking about doing to help, put yourself in nature as you ruminate on it all, even if it’s just in a city park.
Anger ebbs in nature. Chopping wood, walking a trail, skiing through the forest, hunting, fishing, foraging, hiking, canoeing — all are natural regulators, activities in a place where you realize how small we all really are. Nature is where we relearn proportion.
None of this is about taking sides. It’s about taking responsibility. Responsibility for where we actually live.
I’m not interested in litigating last week’s headlines here. Plenty of people are doing that already elsewhere. I’m more interested in what we do with our collective selves once the shouting stops. If this doesn’t resonate with you, that’s fine. If it does, you already know what to do.
We don’t fix the world all at once. We stabilize our corner of it. That’s how it works. That’s how we heal.
Anger is a deadly toxin, but it is most dangerous to the angry person.
I've generally been a pretty even-keeled person. I look to the practical, try not to get worked up about things I can't control, and make an effort to find a positive and constructive resolution to the things I can. And when all else fails, I take a walk in the woods or fire up the boat and head way offshore.
But it's getting tougher to be that way.
There's a thing happening in our country that is gathering momentum. I keep thinking it can't keep going, but the truth is that, like a lot of people, I never believed it would go this far in the first place. I believed that our system, both social and political, would never allow it. Our checks and balances would nip this in the bud before it even got out of the gate. But those systems have failed miserably. Whether through coercion, collusion, or simple cowardice, the people and institutions we expected would prevent this have stepped aside.
We, The People, have left the care and feeding of Democracy in the hands of the system... we have ceded control and grown complacent. And this is what happens. How could it not?
So, what's to do? Take a walk in the woods? "Relax," as Frankie says?
First of all, there's never a wrong time to take positive action, to do good things to protect ourselves and our communities. It's never a bad thing to lift up the downtrodden and show we care. To that point, I completely agree with Hank.
But I think the time is here when we have to think about doing more. It may be time to step outside of the comfortable and convenient. If we want change, it's going to be up to us to make it happen. What does that look like? I don't know for sure.
I will never advocate for violence. As John Lennon astutely pointed out, that's what they want because once they make you violent, they know how to handle you.
But it has to be more meaningful than marching down the street in costumes and clever signs. That's not change, that's just a party. Everybody meet up at the local watering hole after the "protest" and talk about the funny slogans or the photo op with the guy dressed as a frog.
History has shown us what protest looks like, and what it takes to effect change (as Hank points out, it has also shown us what happens when that action is fueled by rage). The blueprint is there, but it takes will and commitment to put it into action.
If everyone in our country took a few minutes and read this we would all be in a better place.