as “the drive toward the unity of the separated”. He writes:
“love is what makes power generative instead of degenerative. Power is what makes love generative instead of degenerative.”
He reminds us that Martin Luther King said “power without love is reckless and abusive, and love without power is sentimental and anemic….this collision of immoral power with powerless morality constitutes the major crisis of our time.” Kahane adds:
“love without attention to or transformation of power can be, not merely sentimental and anemic, but reinforcing of the capacity of the already powerful to act recklessly and abusively.”
We must exercise our power. Of course anger isn’t the only source of power, but it is a high-octane fuel for Change. Think about moments in history, and moments in your own life, where anger moved stuckness and led to beneficial change. Think about where we’d be in the USA without mass protests and sustained, disobedient resistance to oppression: women probably wouldn’t have the vote, African Americans might still be slaves, laborers would be more abused, and LGBT people might still live in the closet. Righteous anger fueled many of these movements. In my own life, once I realized I was angry, realized it was OK to be angry, began to honor and respect my anger then choose new behaviors, I became more fulfilled, more successful – and less depressed.
In fact, to NOT be angry in the world today may be a sign of insanity. Despite our myriad triumphs and all the progress we have to celebrate, most of us live with a crippling amount of unnecessary oppression, injustice, invasions of privacy, and dishonoring of our sacred personhood. I believe that our numbing to this, and increasing apathy as we drown in a sea of irrelevant information, is something to be deeply concerned about. Many of us become paralyzed by anxiety or depression, which is arguably a reasonable and healthy response to the state of the world, but doesn’t move us to do anything about it. Anger is an appropriate response to oppression, injustice, disrespect and dishonoring. I recently wrote a friend that had I been in Sandra Bland’s shoes during that fateful traffic stop in Texas two weeks ago, I’d probably have been just as “combative”, and rightly so.
To not be angry may also be a sign of denial or privilege. I was shocked by those who claimed after 9/11 there was nothing they believed, cherished or experienced – nothing – that would ever cause them to fly a plane full of people into a skyscraper full of people. I’m troubled by those who can’t fathom why African Americans set their community ablaze after an unjust trial verdict or yet another incidence of police violence against them with no meaningful consequences for those responsible. I don’t understand either of these views. I can imagine a dozen scenarios that would cause me to commit horrific acts of violence in the name of justice, survival, blind rage, terror, staggering grief or sheer desperation. How fortunate, or how numb, are those who can’t (or won’t) imagine such possibilities. How fortunate or numb they must be to be unable to identify a single incident in their lives deserving of outrage. How separate they must feel from the rest of us who, as I outline in my poem corajuda, have “excellent reasons and outstanding references” for our anger.
Being in touch with anger and what I’m capable of doesn’t mean I would commit horrific acts. Feelings don’t have to lead to action. Feelings aren’t a statement about a person’s character or worth – behavior is. Deciding mindfully, with our “upstairs” executive function brain, what to do with our anger is where we truly own our power. Owning our anger allows us to use our precious energy making effective choices instead of suppressing our feelings with shame. Being in touch with our anger allows us to empathize with other humans, and become curious about why someone might fly a plane full of people into a skyscraper full of people or burn down their community.
Such empathy and curiosity can lead to real change and sustainable solutions. It’s a new wa