You’re Not Angry, Are You?


One of the more “touristy” things we did while in Canada a few years ago was to visit the Alexander Graham Bell Museum in Baddeck, Nova Scotia. For the record, it’s a beautiful and extremely educational spot. When we entered the building and approached the ticket desk, a tour member slipped in front of us to approach the bright and chipper “ranger” (the museum is a provincial park). She began peppering Ranger Rachel (not her real name) with questions, requests, and observations that were actually demands.

Photo of Park Ranger

Ranger Rachel kept her composure throughout, even while it was apparent that Terry Tourist was, for the most part, not really listening and unlikely to be satisfied with anything Ranger Rachel said or did. Since we were on vacation and in no real hurry, I attempted to see the humor in it. When Terry Tourist ran out of steam and left, I approached the counter wearing my best international diplomatic smile.

Allowing her body to noticeably relax, Ranger Rachel sighed, “Why is everyone so angry this morning?” My guard was down, and I said, “I’ll bet you’ve dealt mostly with Americans today.” To her diplomatic credit, she didn’t confirm or deny my suspicion. We did, however, briefly discuss attitudes in general and tourists in particular.

It wasn’t until later I realized my spontaneous response reflected an unconscious observation I’d been recording. We encountered a lot less anger in Canada, at least among Canadians. And, with the possible exception of Terry Tourist, it seemed contagious. It’s hard to be angry with someone who is smiling and being nice. Or at least it should be.

Sure, it was a vacation, and I was probably wearing my rose-tinted (not as strong as rose-colored) glasses. But I’m convinced Canada–at least in the provinces we were in–is a happier and more relaxed place. Heck, even the Canadian Facebook Groups and Pages I visited and interacted with were friendly and peaceful. (Conversely, when I posted a photo on my timeline about a Canadian Ale I found quite tasty, it didn’t take long for a comment to appear stating that all beer is rotten stuff, etc., and accusing me of encouraging people to ruin their lives.)

I don’t doubt for a minute that something in the commenter’s past influenced his thinking. But I am struggling to understand why he’s so angry, because that anger will have a greater negative effect on him than a pint of Canadian Ale. I was tempted to reply, “Don’t worry, I won’t buy you one.” I suspect he would not have seen the humor in that.

Ranger Rachel’s question stuck with me longer than the museum tour itself did. “Why is everyone so angry this morning?” She meant tourists at a ticket counter, but the more I turned it over, the more it seemed like a fair question about the rest of us too — Terry Tourist, beer-guy, plenty of people I follow online who seem to be one honest opinion away from a fight.

Why are we so angry? I do think part of the answer lies in society’s tendency to engage in victim-thinking. It’s easy to blame someone or something for any unhappiness or difficulties that come our way. Lots of energy goes into figuring out who to blame that might be better spent figuring out how to solve the problem.

From victimhood, it’s not a big leap to feeling that everyone and everything is against us. Once we’re there, it becomes very easy to feel abused and hopeless. Sometimes when we’ve had enough, we become vicious in word and, potentially, in action. That viciousness can be directed towards ourselves as well as others.

There’s some science involved. Anger often arises when we face perceived threats or injustices, and the brain’s amygdala activates the “fight or flight” response. Note the word “perceived” in that sentence. While the amygdala gets us ready to fight, the prefrontal cortex is yelling, “Wait a minute! Is this threat real or at least manageable?”

The amygdala often wins. In scientific terms, we’re angry and ready for the fight. Instead, we could engage in some uniquely human neurological regulation and evaluate the context of the situation. We could end up suppressing the anger in favor of more socially acceptable behavior.

Eleanor Roosevelt in This Is My Story observed, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” I think she’d agree that “No one can make you feel angry without your consent.”

There is no logical reason for us to be victimized by our feelings. How we choose to respond to situations and people is well within our realm of choices. Anger is not the only option.

I still don’t have a good answer for Ranger Rachel. But I suspect she already knows: nobody made those tourists angry that morning. They brought it with them.

Knowing that, you aren’t angry, are you?

Quick Quip #26-02

Effective parenting is not an easy task, but I recently saw it in action. The simple magic was that this parent was not raising two daughters — she already has two daughters. She is raising two adults.

What are you raising?

Quick Quip #26-01

According to a recent email from The Dictionary Project, the word “congenial” originally meant “kindred” or “born together.” Definitions do change. Over time, the word has shifted to being more about spirit than birth. Being congenial is now about comfort and relaxation. The phrase “kindred spirits” comes to mind. It doesn’t apply only to close, ongoing relationships. It can exist in the present moment.

Are you encouraging congeniality in your relationships?

Tragedy or Triumph?

Simple things often have consequences. While strolling around Belfast, Maine, during the annual Celtic Celebration, I nearly missed a photo op, perhaps because it was simple. I actually walked past it and had to return.

The Belfast Blinky – a photo by Walter Boomsma.

I doubt I’ll receive a Pulitzer for the photo, but I like it because it is an invitation. It’s an invitation to write the story behind the image.

My first reaction was to report the tragedy behind the photo. While I wasn’t tempted to pick it up and take it to lost and found, I did look around for a crying child. I also briefly hoped that Mom or Dad was carrying a spare. It’s a familiar story for anyone who has raised a child.

The simple photo allows us to write the story differently and give it meaning. We can do that in our minds or on paper. But we ought to think when we do so.

Perhaps what seems a tragedy was actually a triumph. It’s possible the child decided, “I don’t need this anymore.” The Belfast waterfront is not such a bad place to commit to something new.

Later in the day, I found a marker that suggested another, different story. Or maybe not so different. For some reason, I’d missed it during all my previous visits to the harbor.

Laila Al-Matrouk might have stopped here to talk with, you friend or stranger. She met the world with unabashed curiosity and love. Peace was her goal and justice her path. The Laila in our hearts reminds us to laugh and dance and sing our way to that future.

The stories we see and hear, the stories we write, may blur the line between tragedy and triumph when we approach those stories with curiosity and love. Leave lots of room to laugh and dance and sing.

When Things Go Wrong…

I had the occasion to share this poem with a friend yesterday. It seems appropriate to share it more widely! It was written by Edgar Guest and published in the Detroit Free Press (March 4, 1921). This poem is now in the public domain.

Reaching for the stars means not giving up.

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
And the road you’re trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don’t you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns.
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out.
Don’t give up though the pace seems slow,
You may succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than it seems
To a faint and faltering man.
Often the struggler has given up when he
Might have captured the victor’s cup,
And he learned too late when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out,
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are.
It may be near when it seems afar.
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit.
It’s when things seem worst that
You mustn’t quit.

Exploring simplicity in a complicated world