It’s Okay To Be Mad About It
I can't tell you the amount of time that I've spent in my life wrestling with my emotions regarding things to which I've been exposed. And I can't even fully explain the breadth of feelings that well up when I think of those moments when situations occur in my presence that feel wrong. Where would I start?
Perhaps the first time I discovered that a family member was physically abusing someone I was dating?
Or when a friend came to my house and told me it was the first time he had a meal in two days?
Maybe the time that I became a whistleblower for gender discrimination in a company in which I was formerly employed.
The point is this - I've lived a relatively charmed life. Has it been perfect? Absolutely not - however, I've been lucky in that I haven't experienced the worst parts of what life can throw at us. Not everyone is as fortunate as I have been. Chances are you've likely experienced things that caused you to rally to the side of the injured, the oppressed, the downtrodden, the broken, and those needing help. Perhaps we didn't always act, or maybe we tried to step in and couldn't do anything to help. We are imperfect people (your fearless author chief amongst them!), and what's important to note is that we will never get everything right in this life. Nonetheless, I digress.
Onward to what's been on my mind lately, I recently saw a post on Facebook that seemed to shame people for complaining or being upset about their present circumstances. Suggesting instead that because someone else has (or had) it worse, it was somehow "bad" to feel upset or to verbalize that rubbed me the wrong way. The amount of these sorts of things that I see is beginning to disappoint me because they come across with the message, "You cannot admit or confess that you are struggling or that you have a bad outcome in your life so long as anyone else has or has ever had it worse." It's an odd form of victim blaming or…something. I can't put a name to it. There's a concept in argument…err, umm, excuse me, in "debate" called whataboutism. Until recently, I didn't know that it had a term. However, we've all experienced it repeatedly in our lives. The most recent example that I can come up with (and I promise I loathe to bring politics into this) is how quickly former US President Donald Trump responded to the search and seizure of confidential documents he had stored at his home. Initially, he said that there weren't many, had all been declassified, and that it was inconsequential compared to the 300,000,000 pages of documents his predecessor had taken when he left.
I'm not here to serve as the arbiter of truth - especially since I don't own a gavel or a robe. My point in using that example is to show how quickly it became a shift from what I did wrong to what someone else did that was more wrong. That's what these pseudo-spiritual and pseudo-meaningful statements are doing to us. They are denying our right to see our situation as offensive or untenable or worthy of addressing because someone else has had it worse. As I started jotting down notes for this article, a few things popped into my mind, and I'm going to bullet point them here.
I suppose by this logic that non-landowners, non-whites, and women should have made sure to remain thankful for what they had and trust those people who possessed the power to vote to always do right by them?
In this vein of reasoning, those black Americans who were dealing with Jim Crow laws and the sadly ironic term "Separate but Equal" should have been wholly content because "well, they could have decided to be unequal!" (pro tip - it was always anything but equal, if you disagree with that, please see the exit to your right).
When you consider it at the extremes, you start to see the logic breakdown. This is why (sometimes) the worst examples are the best examples.
Do I think we often complain because our situations aren't what we like but are usually precisely what we've made them for? I believe this is the case in some instances. However, I also think there are cases where we have every right to be upset, angry, complain, and rebel against what we see transpiring. That is to say, transpiring in us, to us, or around us. Beyond right, I think that if a person sees themselves as a moral or good person, we transcend beyond the "right" to respond and into the realm of the "obligation."
The issue is that to silence an individual by suggesting that they do not have the right to their perceptions, feelings, frustrations, and experiences through guilt and shame is the foundation of quieting a storm. It is the precursor to preventing groups and the basis of disbursing movements before they even get underway. At least for a while. To deny someone their agency—their right to feel as they do, and to ignore our obligation to explore (with others, as well as within ourselves) the experiences and reasons why we may feel that way is the foundation for sustained unhappiness and dissatisfaction with the status quo. If we do nothing to diffuse that pressure, if we do nothing to build that bridge of communication and trust by encouraging people to speak their experiences and emotions openly and be receptive to hearing them, then we trade discomfort for dissent. Shaming genuine feelings promotes further division and discord in the long run. And to some degree, it feels that we are presently reaping what we have sewn in that respect worldwide.
So let me tell you that I'm upset. I'm mad. I'm cranky. I'm tired of it. However you choose to phrase it, I'm it. I'm tired of being pushed into seeing people for what they are rather than who they are. I'm angry at being encouraged to look the other way from the hurts and the wounds of others because it bothers people when I point it out. I'm getting cranky about being dictated to about what it means to be a "real ________" or that I am not _________ because I am friends with this individual or support that person.
My message here is that you don't get to define me, and you damn sure don't get to control me. Furthermore, if you continue to try to do so, please know that you can ostracize me or reject me all you want - but I'm still right here. I'm not trying to earn your approval, and to be honest; I don't even want it. Why should I care so much about you if you think so little of me? I'm trying to improve the person I am, my life, and the world I have mutually inherited alongside everyone living today. And I have an extreme suspicion that there are a lot of people out there who deal with the same feelings. The feelings of not belonging, the feelings of wanting to help but not knowing how, the need to connect with people who share a common interest in the commonality of humanity.
I want to see the world changed for the better. I want to know that my legacy on this planet, in whatever time I have remaining, is that I was NOT willing to sit down when I should be standing. I want to rest easy with some certainty that because I acted when others only gawked, the lives of others were improved. I want and am committed to forging relationships so comfortable that we can talk about our vulnerabilities, our points of contention, and our things that "ought not to be" without fear of rejection as a person, even when we disagree.
In closing, know this.
You are loved, though I may not yet personally know you.
You are supported, even if we disagree.
You are not beyond repair; you are not alone.
The whole mission of Fundamentally Different is that we will transform the world by being comfortable with our differences, differences of opinion, differences of experiences, and differences in ability. We must begin by being willing to engage, to listen, and not be silenced by the suggestions that it is unfit or "bad" for us to speak up against legitimate issues - individual or systemic. We'll never get it perfect, but that's what puts the "fun" in fundamental. We can laugh about the imperfections; we can celebrate the opportunities to learn and grow as people, understand more about humanity, and rebuild and repair the things that need it, whether they are people, places, or policies.
We must not remain a house divided. Not about the matters of humanity and compassion. If I must stand alone on this point, I will. While I hope I don't have to, it's a hill I'll gladly die on so that my daughter and the people in my sphere of influence will know the world as a better and more caring place. A place where wounds can heal, a place where homes can be rebuilt or restored, a place where relationships can be built and mended, a place where respect is not earned, and love is not conditional, a place where hope is not reserved for those with the means to afford it.
The truth is that I’d love to have you to contribute and be a part of what we’re building at Fundamentally Different and there are a few ways to do it. The first is that you can join us on Facebook to engage in community conversation. The second is to send over an email if you know of someone that would be great to interview for the Fundamentally Different Show on YouTube. You can do that by sending an email to tyler@fundamentallydifferent.org. Of course you can also donate to help us buy equipment and fund the ongoing efforts to improve the world by clicking the Donate button on this page.
- Tyler
