Befriend Your Anger About George Floyd's Death

Acknowledging our feelings and proactively seeking out the justice that we are craving is the best way to mourn, yet again, another Black death.

It's as if my soul instructed me to get prepared early on for what I would learn today, Wednesday, May 27, 2020. I'd been sleeping in these past two days and today I was determined to wake up early and read my book, Belonging: Remembering Ourselves Home, by Toko-pa Turner. At 7am I had 30 minutes to move our car, Brownie, to the opposite side of the street and read chapter 9, "The Dark Guests," before heading back inside to finish my morning routine before work. By the time my timer rang, I had barely finished reading a section on Anger. Little did I know this would be enough soulfood to offer me perspective about the horrific video of George Floyd's death, which I saw a few hours later.

Police brutality on camera. It's infuriating to watch. It's worse when you realize that our society is founded on the pillars of police brutality; it's been happening for decades, except now we have cameras to make it go viral. You feel shocked, powerless, sad, angry.

Anger is one of these "dark guests" that I read about this morning. As a society, we find it acceptable and desirable to highlight our positive feelings, as if bliss somehow carried more intelligence than anger does. Our anger shouldn't be underestimated, though. If we are on our way to becoming whole, we ought to inspect our negative feelings – not for the potential destruction that can result from them, but for the valuable information that they offer us. As we process yet another life lost to police brutality, I believe that we can reflect on two important things that our collective anger is trying to teach us.

[A] terrible thing is severed in the suppression of anger: your relationship with one of your greatest allies. – T. Turner

First, realize that the anger and sadness that we feel at the sight of George's torturous death shows that we are all one, connected in spirit. Otherwise, it wouldn't hurt us to witness such a thing. We feel anger when our hearts have been wronged and our beloveds have been threatened, as Turner says. Indeed, we feel anger when our souls perceive injustice. Even if we don't have the words, I want us to remember that there are more of us who feel angry at the cop who murdered George than there are cops who murder people. I hope we can find comfort in knowing that regardless of our differences we, as a collective, still have a sense of interconnectedness. We care about each other.

Secondly, I want to point out that in those minutes of the video, we can also witness the cop's anger. An anger that was detrimentally managed. I invite you to see this as a reflection of our society's shadow. A reflection of the darkness in all of us – of the parts of us that suppress unprocessed anger or the parts of us that cause harm as a way to process it, like that cop did. Personally, I pity the police officer because when I change my rebellious sunnies and put on my compassionate sunnies, I can see a human being who's grown up to mishandle his anger to the point where he has to assert his power by murdering a gentle Black man. Seeing this makes me realize that part of the problem is our poor management of our emotional aptitudes.

Maturing your relationship with anger means developing respect for your limitations, no matter how much further ahead you wish you were, and using discernment in how you wield your personal power. – T. Turner

This brings me to my closing point: Action. We realize that we care about each other. Now, how can we start to care for one another? If there are so many people who deeply care about the injustices of the world, why is police brutality still a thing? I think part of it is because it makes us feel icky to have vulnerable and curious conversations about racism, privilege, and white supremacy. So, we avoid it. But in our silence, things will remain unchanged and we will continue to feel divided.

So, allow yourself to feel your anger and let it be a reminder that you are passionate about justice. Let's befriend our anger – not the destructive kind that murders, but the passionate one that perseveres and restores. The one that seeks for alternatives and takes immediate action. Remember, you don't have to be an activist to be passionate about gentle human lives. Allow your anger to inform you of what it is you are observing in the world that does not feel right in your heart and let it redirect you towards that which you wish to see. More importantly, take small action steps in that direction.

My invitation, then, is for you to do a little more than sharing our indignation on social media. Acknowledgment is the first step. Our civic duty goes beyond sending prayers. I kindly invite you to initiate at least one conversation about this particular injustice with someone you trust. Enter this conversation from a place of vulnerability and curiosity. From a place of love. Remember, there is a lot of intelligence that our icky feelings can offer us. Take advantage of your own inner intelligence.

Stay compassionate, speak up, and take action. xx Sulafa

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References: Belonging: Remembering Ourselves Home, Toko-pa Turner, pp. 110-12. 2017.