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| Photo by Luke Addison, published under creative commons license https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/ https://www.flickr.com/photos/1uk3/1677426833 |
There is a lot
of rage and pain in the world right now. Rage about racism. Anger about loss of
income and COVID19. Indignation about statues and what they represent.
I have felt
very angry recently. Anger can be a healthy response to violations of principles
of right and wrong (1).
I learned from
the following experience that showing anger is sometimes necessary. As a young
Rabbi I supervised several youth workers. One was a brash New Yorker (NY) who I
could not trust to be appropriate in a summer camp. Another was a fancy
dresser-apparent narcissist (FDAN) who never took any notice of my polite
guidance, or criticism of his careless performance. One day I mentioned to FDAN
that NY was not welcome in camp because I was not happy with him. FDAN turned
to me with the question: “Are you happy with me?” I was so shocked by the
question that over a decade later, I remember exactly where we were during that
conversation. It had never occurred to me that he cared! Yet, I had deprived
him of the essential information that his failure to follow my instructions
made me angry.
On the other
hand, more often than not, I think my anger (on the rare occasions that I dare
to express it), is destructive and often does little to alleviate the suffering
or evil that provoked it in the first place.
This post is
not about the situations in which anger is necessary and constructive but those
in which a calm and positive approach is helpful.
Research into
anti-racism approaches found that accusing people that they are racist does not
work. Instead, the literature advises that one must seek to engage people in an
open exploration of the issues (2).
This mode of
influence is also highlighted in a discussion of the Torah reading this week
(3). Moses was punished during the episode in which the Israelites in the
desert were provided with water when he hit a rock. Prior to hitting the
rock, Moses became enraged with the people because of their complaints. He
denigrates them by calling them, “You rebels”. Some opinions view his
anger as the problem (4), while others insist that he should have spoken to the
rock, instead of hitting it (5).
However, a
champion of love, the Chasidic master, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev,
insists that the two explanations are one (6). There are two modes of
influence. One is kind and seeks to focus on the positive characteristics of
the person one seeks to influence and the joy and benefit of improving
behaviour. The other is harsh and denigrating. If Moses had chosen the former
approach, water would have flowed from the rock easily. Because he opted for
the latter, it was impossible for him to get water out without a fight. He
needed to hit the rock!
Sometimes, one
can be an activist or seek to address wrongs in a calm and pleasant way. There
is a tendency for activism to be forceful rather than go with the flow. This is
not an argument for the one right answer, but to consider the various options
available to us and to choose the appropriate tool most likely to achieve a
result in the situation.
Notes
2) Pedersen,
A., Walker, I., & Wise, M. (2005). Talk Does Not Cook Rice: Beyond
anti-racism rhetoric to strategies for social action. Australian Psychologist,
40, 20-30.
3)
Numbers 20:1-13
4)
Maimonides
5)
Rashi
6)
Kedushas Levi, Chukas, p. 303
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