“Everyone pretends to be ‘free thinkers’, but few individuals pass the line into expressive territories that may be detrimental to their own social well-being.” — Criss Jami

These days, I am grateful for anger. Too often, we are placated, sedated, dummied, complacent, pacified, drugged, deceived, naive, and altogether flatline as a populous, all in the midst of a world that demands our anger with both hands.

When I was about 8 years old, I wrote one of my first pieces of creative writing — though I’m not sure what it was exactly. I distinctly recall one line: “I want to be a swan and a bear.” I don’t know what was running through my mind at the time, but I still feel a paradoxical desire to be both of these things at once. I know that to be full of conviction or anger does not mean that one cannot possess grace, charm, or a positive demeanor. It is important to possess both, and to express them both when they are called upon.

Writer Criss Jami states, “To me it seems that too many young women of this time share the same creed: ‘Live, laugh, love, be nothing but happy, experience everything, et cetera et cetera.’ How monotonous, how useless this becomes. What about the honors of Joan of Arc, Beauvoir, Stowe, Xena, Princess Leia, or women that would truly fight for something?”

As a young woman, this resonates strongly with me; I know that when I am complacent, peaceful, fun, girly even — that most people around me are also pacified, happy. I know this because I see and experience this every day. I also know that when I break outside of these behaviors, others are uncomfortable. Yes, the same goes for men, but I have to assert here that women have a huge pressure to be smiling, pleasant, as much as possible. This is rewarded over and over.

So yes, this avoidance of controversy is something we all do and are rewarded for, and yes, speaking up is something that falls on all of our shoulders, but let us consider for a moment at the experience of the female in particular — as she is the one who will likely receive more pushback when expressing anger publicly.

To illustrate, here are a few of my own — very small — experiences:

In college, I posted a status about the exclusionary nature of a popular University retreat — not in attack of the retreat, but of the message that the community created at this retreat, which I felt was one of isolation and reeked a bit of a “special club,” despite the central theme(s) of the retreat being: love one another, show one another love. The backlash I received from this was harsh, and some came from friends that I care for deeply. I felt misunderstood and frustrated, and yet I could not back down from this stance — I still believe in it, to this day.

More recently, I’ve come across a number of disturbing examples of sexism at work around me, in a very public way, and I have — mildly — taken these examples to task in my own public way (blog, social media). About a month ago, I wrote a brief opinion essay on Jameis Winston (FSU quarterback, Heisman trophy recipient) and his rape accusation, with the central point being that we disregard rape culture and that we should be ashamed to set aside things such as rape in light of extreme sports fandom (note: not a piece about whether or not Winston was guilty). After sharing this on Facebook, one man commented on the quickly-growing thread of both support and criticisms with an argument in defense of male athletes accused of rape, pointing out minute details about the case that he believed worked against the female, including the fact that she had a boyfriend at the time and was therefore cheating on him (despite likely being raped). He noted that I was being far too harsh, unfair, and biased (I mean, it was an opinion piece).

And just a week or so ago, I posted an article about a Spokane bar that bizarrely, ignorantly titled one of their signature alcoholic beverages “Date Grape.” I commented that this was, well, insane. Because it is. One man responded by providing comparisons to other drinks such as “Pink Pussy,” explaining that, in comparison, the title “Date Grape” was actually “kinda cute.”

Of course, I was taken aback by both comments, but not really surprised to have some sort of pushback, however mild. I don’t have any concern over whether or not these two men “like” me anymore, or if they think any less of me, but I did feel a slight sense of discomfort from each comment; and there’s no way around this,I’ve tried — when I share or say things that are deemed even remotely controversial, I don’t like it when people become upset with me. This is probably a result of caring far too much what people think from an early age.

It is worth saying that in times of controversy, I have also felt most alive. While I was a student at Gonzaga University, the Vagina Monologues were banned from being produced on campus (I hope that you, dear reader, have just laughed at the thought of this really happening). I joined fellow students in protest — at one point, sitting outside of a board meeting that would address the banning with duck tape on our mouths — I wrote letters, I participated in sit-ins, and I shared in a collective anger that was and still is essential to college campuses and communities altogether. Partly in response to this event, among others, a few friends and I also created an underground newspaper in which we took to task some of the more sordid goings-on from the underbelly of the University. Being a part of the anger that fought against the shameful behavior around me at the time was powerful. I still look back on this time period and recall how alive and intellectually present I felt. And when I sense an injustice around me now, I still get that familiar prickle on my arm hair, my stomach lurches, and I know that a wave of anger is coming — and I will have to say something.

Despite the discomforts of taking a real stance, setting aside politeness, it is critical to dispel this fear of making others angry, this fear of standing up or speaking up, from my self, from ourselves, as much as possible. There are too many important things happening that should make all of us mad. Really mad. And we should be speaking up about them. The examples I’ve shared here are so minute in comparison to the “big stuff” — war, corrupt politics, violence (against men, women, everyone), et cetera, but maybe these small examples around us are a decent place to start; maybe they all inform a collective sense of our own values and beliefs over time. With any luck, our stances won’t be childish remarks on Facebook, but more thought-out, patient understandings of issues that exercise a critical but holistic approach.

Of course, there have been far too many occasions where I have said nothing. But this year, and moving forward, I want to challenge myself — and others around me — to say things that we know will make other people upset. Let’s get comfortable with the idea of making others uncomfortable. Not for the hell of it, but because we have conviction, and maybe, by speaking up against things that are wrong, we can encourage a greater cultural discourse that just might make us all feel a little more alive, a little more like persons with a strong sense of justice and a commitment to progress. We should look forward to being wise someday, and with that wise perspective, looking back on the many things we said that made others uncomfortable. And if we’ve made progress together, maybe we will even have the privilege of looking back on those moments with a smile or a laugh.