BEB: I Am Allowed To Be Angry
By Jaden Kielty, Photograph by Allison Herr
What makes me angry is that I did not know that I was allowed to be angry. But I am angry. I have been angry, whether I admit it to myself or not. I have been oppressed whether I admit it to myself or not. Anger from a gay woman of color, anger spoken from marginalized voices, is often misconstrued to be personal, not political, not ideological. To not show my anger is to continue to live in invisibility. To not show my anger is to remain in compliance with the psychological forces of sexism, racism, homophobia, etc. that support the white men and white feminists. Anger is not a weakness in the same way that difference is not division. Anger is not destruction. Anger is not hatred. Anger is a force that, when used, can foment change. Audre Lorde said, “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house”. Anger is a response to oppression, a response to being held down outside the circle of what is acceptable. In Audre Lorde’s “The Uses of Anger”, Lorde defines anger as her response to racism, racist attitudes, and actions and presumptions that result from racist attitudes. She gives examples of such actions and attitudes. Below are some of mine.
I am angry because I give in to the stereotype of myself, an Asian American woman, as the “least oppressed”. I perpetuate the stereotypes that I resent and abhor by being pacified into thinking that others perceive me as “different” from other Asian women. Subconsciously trying to appear more American, making sure I articulate so that people don’t mistake my mumbling for a possible accent. I do this despite living here my whole life.
I am angry at white women in my class for doing the bare minimum and patting themselves on the back for it. I am angry at the politeness with which they speak of racism, as if we live in a post racialized society. The politeness in which they contemplate the pros and cons of color blindness. The ignorance and naivety with which they carry themselves, so that your anger seems misplaced.
I am angry because whiteness is the universal standard, the norm. Whiteness functions to separate people of color into a hierarchy. The creation of the “model minority myth” functions to divide people of color so that they cannot radicalize. I am mad that this history is invisible.
I am angry that when people ask me if I am half white, they frame it as a compliment. People compliment me by implying that I appear to be part white. Therefore, I am meeting this standard, with a mix of exoticism. When I say, I am half Chinese, the compliment continues when people say that I don’t look it. White is the universal beauty standard.
I am angry that people don’t know my name. They carelessly substitute my name with the other Asian girl’s name on the team. Team. But they don’t know my name. They know every white man’s name on the roster. But they can’t place my name to my face. One of two Asian girls on the “team”. My identity and everything I am is painted over by the color of my skin, the shape of my eyes, and the color of my hair. While there is no ill intention, I push down my anger, rendering me invisible. Resistance so passive that no one knew there was resistance.
I am angry that I carry with myself a degree of self-hatred because I am not white. I see the power dynamics in the relationships I have. I ask myself if people are friends with me despite my not being white. I tiptoe cautiously, afraid that I might accidentally assume the stereotypes of my race and prove them right.
Lorde said, “Everything can be used, except what is wasteful. You will need to remember this, when you are accused of destruction”. I demand to be seen. I demand people know my name. I demand people know the other Asian girls’ names. Time will not cure all the ailments of society and the institutions that function to silence us and render us invisible. Anger and difference are necessities. Have never stopped being necessities. Anger makes me feel human. I want others to join in my anger. Join in this feeling of demanding more. Demanding humanity. Radicalism. I demand a revolution.