"lumbering our minds with literature..."

"Somewhere between prayer and revolution....:"

"This is what we were all doing, lumbering our minds with literature that only served to cloud the really vital situation spread before our eyes...I am simply smothered and sickened with advantages. It is like eating a sweet dessert the first thing in the morning. This, then, was the difficulty, this sweet dessert in the morning and the assumption that the sheltered, educated girl has nothing to do with the bitter poverty and the social maladjustment which is all around her, and which, after all, cannot be concealed, for it breaks through poetry and literature in a burning tide which overwhelms her." -Jane Addams, Twenty Years at Hull-House







Monday, May 24, 2010

Anger

In her study on the subversive function of women's anger in the nineteenth century, The Artistry of Anger, Linda Grasso writes that "contemporary feminists must make sure women’s anger holds in our scholarship as well as in our politics” (193). Grasso makes a convincing case that nineteenth century women were a lot angrier than their (often Christian and domestic) rhetoric explicitly suggests.

I've never really thought too much about anger as a political force. I think it takes a lot to make me really angry (uh, right Brian?) The idea of harboring anger also seems antithetical to trying to be like Jesus, although one of my favorite Bible stories is when He overturns the money changer's table at the temple.

So I was surprised when I was suddenly filled with rage driving down Grandview Avenue. I was even more surprised that what triggered my anger was a family biking down the street together, since I am generally pro-bikes and family. I was on my way to Wednesday night's His Place at St. John's. His Place is a community meal that is an odd combination of homeless guys and elementary school kids, with a few church members and FTON residents mixed in. Kelly and I go to hang out with the girls in our neighborhood and make sure they make it home in one piece.

The bikers reminded me that the girls at His Place don't get to go biking with their families down perfectly manicured streets. Their parents work long hours and generally let the kids play outside all day by themselves and get walked home sometimes by people that they don't even know (not that Kelly and I are very threatening). I don't think the kids feel that they are missing anything, and I clearly don't think the suburbs are a preferable place to live. But of course when the sun starts to go down there is a pretty big difference between the dangers of materialism and drug dealers. So I was angry that some kids get cool bicycles, clean streets, and family time and our girls don't.

I think anger can be a motivating political force, but enough people have to be angry for things to change. I'm just figuring out what to do with my own anger, but the nice thing about living in community is that I know it is shared.

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