My first act of civil disobedience was a protest I led in fifth grade against a teacher who wouldn’t call on the girls as often as the boys. And I was angry.
In high school, when I volunteered for Planned Parenthood, I walked past the throng of anti-choice protestors, with their disgusting signs and false pamphlets and atrocious chants about “baby killers,” and I donated my time and money and put a bumper sticker on my car. And I was angry.
In college, I watched the theft of the White House. I watched the Republican aides from Capitol Hill stage their faux protests in Florida, waving signs that said “Sore Loserman.” And I was angry.
In the fall of 2002, I attended my first anti-war protest in Golden Gate Park, when the drumbeats for war against Iraq were growing louder and louder. And I was angry.
In 2004, I wrote my first response to a blog posting about how all the dirty fucking hippies were anti-American because they dared to criticize George W. Bush’s illegal war in Iraq. And I was angry. And I became Angry Mouse.
Why are you so angry?
Who among us followed the 2004 election and didn’t feel inspired by Howard Dean because of his raw anger at what we were witnessing done to our country? Dean was mocked by the right (and the traditional media, and even many on the left) because he was “too angry.” But it was his anger that resonated with us, that spoke to us, that drove us to take our feelings of helplessness and frustration and do something with it. Because we were angry.
Who survived the Bush years without feeling a tremendous sense of outrage? Who among us watched the Republican National Convention in 2008 and didn’t feel seething rage at the blatant bigotry and ignorance espoused by a party that has long capitalized on anger? I made my first donation to Barack Obama’s campaign after I watched Sarah Palin’s acceptance speech at that Convention. It wasn’t inspiration that motivated me. It was anger.
We were riveted when Barack Obama stood on that stage in August of 2008 and shouted, “ENOUGH!” We cheer when Keith Olbermann delivers his Special Comments. We rejoice when Rep. Alan Grayson blasts the Republicans for their “die quickly” answer to our health care crisis. We applaud when Rep. Anthony Weiner stands on the floor of the House and insists, repeatedly, that every single Republican is in the pocket of the insurance industry.
We cheer, we applaud, sometimes we even weep with relief to see our anger articulated because we know it is true and right. They speak for us. They say what we cannot, or will not, say. It is not their anger that defeats us; it is the suppression of our anger. It is the misguided belief that if we bury our anger, tone it down, find a way to support our positions without the passion, it will somehow serve us better. We buy into the myth that anger is unhealthy. Unproductive. Wrong.
Why are you so angry?
We like to think of ourselves as somehow above it. We don’t need to be angry; we have facts on our side. We don’t need to be angry; we have justice on our side. We don’t need to be angry; we’re right. And our righteousness should be enough.
But we sacrifice anger at our own expense. Because anger is what motivates us to act. It converts our frustration and feelings of helplessness into something productive. When faced with a stressful situation, we can be paralyzed by our fear or proactive in our anger. And fear never got anything done. But anger? Anger begets action.
Anger is a natural reaction to seeing something we know is wrong. How we express our anger matters, but that feeling, that raw emotion, is important. It’s necessary. And who among us who reads the news, who sees the injustices in our country and around the world, does not feel anger?
Why are you so angry?
The warning is in my name. I'm not Complacent Mouse. I'm not Easy Going Mouse. I'm Angry Mouse. And I don't mince my words in the hopes of converting anyone who blushes at a four-letter word or wishes I'd tone down my anger. I leave the calm and moderated tones for the sedate NPR commentators, the too-cute-by-half columnists at the New York Times, the oh-so-reasonable talking heads on the Sunday talk shows, the members of Congress who insist upon referring to each other as their “esteemed colleagues from the other side.”
Yes, I’m angry. Angry at a two-party system that favors corporations over people; angry at a justice system that most severely punishes those who are least able to fight back; angry at the media who refuses to call a lie a lie; angry at a health care system that allows private corporations to profit by allowing the sick to suffer and die; angry at the terrorists who want to deprive women of our reproductive autonomy; angry at the misogynists who want us to know our place; angry at the Democratic leadership -- and yes, even some of our fellow “progressives” -- for treating women's rights as a fringe issue; angry at anyone who feels the need to question whether it’s really necessary to be so angry.
You're goddamned right I'm angry. And you should be too.