Bombarded by all of the thoughts and emotions that have become the fabric of life over the last three weeks, I am wondering aloud:
Which is more difficult… changing our THOUGHTS or changing our FEELINGS?
I find that they are both extremely difficult to change, but as events have unfolded, I am realizing that I need to be changing BOTH as a result of the murder of George Floyd and the naming of others who have become victimized in a world plagued by systemic racism.
I Used to Think That…..
- …….ALL lives matter
- …… I understood the meaning of white privilege
- …….I wasn’t racist
- …… I knew how it felt to be discriminated against
- …… the American flag was the symbol that unified, not divided
- …… law enforcement people were our friends (except for “a few bad apples”)
- …….criminal justice was (for the most part) fairly and equally applied
- …….the intense violent and destructive anger expressed by many in Black America was often unjustified.
I have learned to use my anger for good. . . . Without it, we would not be motivated to rise to a challenge. It is an energy that compels us to define what is just and unjust.
Gandhi
You may have seen the video of Kimberly Jones. It made me feel very uncomfortable to watch yet mind-changing to experience. The discomfort stemmed from the fact that I am the “you” who is the target of the intense anger she is showing.
By nature I am a person who tries to avoid the feeling of anger, either mine or someone else’s. I would be hesitant to describe myself as an angry person or one capable of expressing it openly or often. But through the experiences of the last weeks I am coming to see the importance of expressing anger, and seeing the possible positive outcomes when it is channeled honestly and openly.
Father Richard Rohr speaks of it in a daily meditation:
Contemplating Anger
Tuesday, June 9, 2020
He writes:
Today my colleague and {Center for Action and Contemplation} faculty member Barbara Holmes shares reflections on a “theology of anger.” Her words are challenging for white Americans like myself, but an important stage of contemplative solidarity is the ability to set aside our own opinions to listen with an open heart to the pain of the marginalized. I hope we can hear Dr. Holmes’s wisdom and desire for healing from the wounds of racism.
We all need a way to channel and reconcile our anger with our faith. . . . A theology of anger [for communities under siege] assumes that anger as a response to injustice is spiritually healthy. My intent is to highlight three ways that anger can contribute to spiritual restoration.
First, a theology of anger invites us to wake up from the hypnotic influences of unrelenting oppression so that individuals and communities can shake off the shackles of denial, resignation, and nihilism. . . . Second, a theology of anger can help us to construct healthy boundaries. Finally, the healthy expression of righteous anger can translate communal despair into compassionate action and justice-seeking. . . . The question is whether or not we will recognize our wounds and the source of our anger so that we can heal ourselves and others, and awaken to our potential to embody the beloved community. . . .
Collective and productive anger redirects our attention to the everyday survival and healing of our own community. . . Sometimes the anger of black folks is resistance but, more often, it is grief. During a demonstration in Minneapolis, Minnesota, after the police shot an unarmed black man [in 2016], Pastor Danny Givens of Above Every Name Ministry, publicly and peacefully challenged the Governor of Minnesota. He shouted into a microphone:
Your people keep killing my people. You keep telling me that you are going to do something. I just want you to put some action on it, put some respect on our people’s names. . . . This isn’t black anger. This is black grief! [1]
Pastor Givens wanted the governor to understand that grief, anger, and black joy are hard to separate. At funerals of young people slain by the police, expressions of black joy are common. This is not “joy” in the ordinary sense of the word. . . . This is the communal performance of resistance and resilience through dancing and rhythmic movement. Funeral-car doors fly open, music is thumping, and the community dances its defiance of death and the society that produces it.
We are angry, we are grieving, we are performing black joy as a sign of our determination to survive.
[1] Morgan Winsor and Julia Jacobo, “Pastor Shouts at Governor: ‘This Is Black Grief,’ After Police Shooting of Minnesota Man,” ABC News (July 7, 2016). Available at http://abcnews.go.com/US/pastor-challenges-minnesota-gov-put-action-cop-shooting/story?id=40406186
Barbara A. Holmes, “Contemplating Anger,” “Anger,” Oneing, vol. 6, no. 1 (CAC Publishing: 2018), 21, 24–25.
…..But Now My Thinking is Changing
As I write I realize that I am dealing only with my thinking. Any time spent talking about anger focuses on my thoughts about Black anger, not my own. Perhaps this is another expression of white privilege: dealing with what I think about “their” anger. But how do I feel about these issues?
Which is more difficult… changing our THOUGHTS or changing our FEELINGS?
It’s hard to answer the question while dealing with only half of the equation. Perhaps a post on the second half of the question is long overdue!
