So sometimes I get angry, and it took me many years to be able to say just those words. In my work, sometimes my body thrums, I'm so enraged. But no matter how justified my anger has been, throughout my life, I've always been led to understand that my anger is an exaggeration, a misrepresentation, that it will make me rude and unlikable. Mainly as a girl, I learned, as a girl, that anger is an emotion better left entirely unvoiced.
Ponekad se razljutim i trebalo mi je mnogo godina da svjesno izgovorim te riječi. Na poslu, tijelo mi ponekad pulsira od bijesa. Ipak, bez obzira koliko opravdan bio moj bijes, čitavog su me života učili da je moj bijes samo pretjerivanje, da daje krivu sliku, zbog koje ću ispasti nepristojna i bezobrazna. Još kao djevojčica naučila sam da je, za djevojčice, bijes emocija koju je najbolje ne izražavati.
Think about my mother for a minute. When I was 15, I came home from school one day, and she was standing on a long veranda outside of our kitchen, holding a giant stack of plates. Imagine how dumbfounded I was when she started to throw them like Frisbees...
Razmislite o mojoj majci na trenutak. Kad sam imala 15 godina, jednom sam se vratila iz škole, a ona je stajala na terasi ispred kuhinje držeći hrpu tanjura u rukama. Zamislite koliko sam bila zbunjena kad ih je počela bacati kao frizbije
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
into the hot, humid air. When every single plate had shattered into thousands of pieces on the hill below, she walked back in and she said to me, cheerfully, "How was your day?"
u vrući, vlažni zrak. Nakon što je i posljednji tanjur razbijen u tisuću komadića na brdu ispod kuće, ušla je natrag u kuću i pitala me s osmijehom, "Kako je bilo u školi?"
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
Now you can see how a child would look at an incident like this and think that anger is silent, isolating, destructive, even frightening. Especially though when the person who's angry is a girl or a woman. The question is why.
Jasno je kako dijete iz ovakvog incidenta zaključi da je bijes nijemi, izolirajući, razarajući, čak zastrašujući osjećaj. Posebno ako je bijesna osoba djevojčica ili žena. Pitanje je zašto?
Anger is a human emotion, neither good nor bad. It is actually a signal emotion. It warns us of indignity, threat, insult and harm. And yet, in culture after culture, anger is reserved as the moral property of boys and men. Now, to be sure, there are differences. So in the United States, for example, an angry black man is viewed as a criminal, but an angry white man has civic virtue. Regardless of where we are, however, the emotion is gendered. And so we teach children to disdain anger in girls and women, and we grow up to be adults that penalize it.
Bijes je emocija, nije ni dobra ni loša. Signalna je emocija. Upozorava nas na poniženost, opasnost, uvredu i povredu. Usprkos tome, iz kulture u kulturu, ljutnja se smatra karakternom osobinom dječaka i muškaraca. Naravno, postoje razlike. U Sjedinjenim Američkim Državama, na primjer, na bijesnog crnog muškarca gleda se kao na kriminalca, dok je bijes kod bijelaca građanska vrlina. Ipak, gdje god se nalazili, ova je emocija rodno obilježena. Pa učimo djecu neodobravanju bijesa kod djevojčica i žena i odrastamo u osobe koje ga kažnjavaju.
So what if we didn't do that? What if we didn't sever anger from femininity? Because severing anger from femininity means we sever girls and women from the emotion that best protects us from injustice. What if instead we thought about developing emotional competence for boys and girls? The fact is we still remarkably socialize children in very binary and oppositional ways. Boys are held to absurd, rigid norms of masculinity -- told to renounce the feminine emotionality of sadness or fear and to embrace aggression and anger as markers of real manhood. On the other hand, girls learn to be deferential, and anger is incompatible with deference. In the same way that we learned to cross our legs and tame our hair, we learned to bite our tongues and swallow our pride. What happens too often is that for all of us, indignity becomes imminent in our notions of femininity.
A kad to ne bismo činili? Kad ne bismo suprotstavljali bijes i ženstvenost? Jer suprotstavljajući bijes i ženstvenost udaljavamo djevojke i žene od emocije koja nas najbolje štiti od nepravde. Što kada bismo umjesto toga kod djece razvijali sposobnost nošenja s emocijama? Činjenica je da još uvijek, nevjerojatno, odgajamo djecu na izrazito binarne i suprotstavljene načine. Dječaci se trebaju držati apsurdnih, strogih normi muškosti. Uči ih se da odbace ženstvene osjećaje tuge ili straha i prigrle agresivnost i bijes kao obilježja pravih muškaraca. S druge strane, djevojčice se uče pristojnosti, a bijes je nespojiv s pristojnošću. Kao što nas uče da treba prekrižiti noge i ukrotiti kosu, tako naučimo držati jezik za zubima i progutati ponos. Kao rezultat, prečesto, kod svih nas ogorčenost postaje neizbježan dio naše percepcije ženstvenosti.
There's a long personal and political tale to that bifurcation. In anger, we go from being spoiled princesses and hormonal teens, to high maintenance women and shrill, ugly nags. We have flavors, though; pick your flavor. Are you a spicy hot Latina when you're mad? Or a sad Asian girl? An angry black woman? Or a crazy white one? You can pick. But in fact, the effect is that when we say what's important to us, which is what anger is conveying, people are more likely to get angry at us for being angry. Whether we're at home or in school or at work or in a political arena, anger confirms masculinity, and it confounds femininity. So men are rewarded for displaying it, and women are penalized for doing the same.
Ta je podvojenost rezultat duge osobne i političke priče. Bijesne, od razmaženih princeza prerastamo u hormonalne tinejdžerice, pa u prezahtjevne žene i stara zanovijetala. Imamo mi i nijansi. Odaberite najdražu: Kad ste ljuti, jeste li vatrena Latina? Ili tužna Azijatkinja? Ili bijesna crnkinja? Luda bjelkinja? Možete birati. Ali zapravo, kada izrazimo ono do čega nam je stalo, zašto smo bijesne, veća je vjerojatnost da će se ljudi naljutiti na nas jer smo ljute. Bilo da smo kod kuće, u školi, na poslu ili u političkoj areni, ljutnja potvrđuje muškost i proturječi ženstvenosti. Stoga, muškarce se nagrađuje za njeno izražavanje, a žene kažnjava za isto.
This puts us at an enormous disadvantage, particularly when we have to defend ourselves and our own interests. If we're faced with a threatening street harasser, predatory employer, a sexist, racist classmate, our brains are screaming, "Are you kidding me?" And our mouths say, "I'm sorry, what?"
Ovo nas stavlja u izrazito nepovoljan položaj, posebno kada trebamo braniti sebe i svoje interese. Suočene s napasnikom na ulici, predatorskim poslodavcem, seksističkim ili rasističkim kolegom, u glavi nam odzvanja: "Jesi li ti normalan?" A usta nam izgovaraju: "Oprostite?"
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
Right? And it's conflicting because the anger gets all tangled up with the anxiety and the fear and the risk and retaliation. If you ask women what they fear the most in response to their anger, they don't say violence. They say mockery. Think about what that means. If you have multiple marginalized identities, it's not just mockery. If you defend yourself, if you put a stake in the ground, there can be dire consequences.
Zar ne? Zbunjujuće je jer se ljutnja isprepliće s tjeskobom, strahom i opasnošću od posljedica. Kad pitate žene čega se najviše boje kao odgovora na njihovu ljutnju, ne kažu - nasilja. Kažu - izrugivanja. Razmislite o tome. Kod višestruko marginaliziranih, ne radi se samo o izrugivanju. Ako se krenete braniti, ako odbijete odstupiti, može biti ozbiljnih posljedica.
Now we reproduce these patterns not in big, bold and blunt ways, but in the everyday banality of life. When my daughter was in preschool, every single morning she built an elaborate castle -- ribbons and blocks -- and every single morning the same boy knocked it down gleefully. His parents were there, but they never intervened before the fact. They were happy to provide platitudes afterwards: "Boys will be boys." "It's so tempting, he just couldn't help himself." I did what many girls and women learn to do. I preemptively kept the peace, and I taught my daughter to do the same thing. She used her words. She tried to gently body block him. She moved where she was building in the classroom, to no effect. So I and the other adults mutually constructed a particular male entitlement. He could run rampant and control the environment, and she kept her feelings to herself and worked around his needs. We failed both of them by not giving her anger the uptake and resolution that it deserved. Now that's a microcosm of a much bigger problem. Because culturally, worldwide, we preference the performance of masculinity -- and the power and privilege that come with that performance -- over the rights and needs and words of children and women.
Ove uzorke ne usvajamo kroz velike, upadljive i glasne geste, već kroz svakodnevne banalne situacije. Dok je bila u vrtiću, moja bi kćer svakoga jutra izgradila veliki dvorac, s vrpcama, od kockica, i svakog bi ga jutra isti dječak s oduševljenjem srušio. Roditelji su mu bili prisutni, ali nikad ga nisu pokušali spriječiti. Bez ustručavanja su poslije nudili opravdanja: "Takvi su dečki." "Nije se mogao suzdržati." Postupila sam kako su mnoge djevojčice i žene naučene. Održala sam mir i naučila svoju kćer da čini isto. Pokušala se izboriti riječima. Pokušavala mu je lagano zapriječiti put. Promijenila je mjesto gradnje u drugi dio učionice. Bezuspješno. Dakle, mi odrasli izgradili smo poseban oblik muškog privilegija. On je mogao raditi što hoće i vladati okolinom, a ona je potisnula svoje osjećaje i sklanjala mu se s puta. Iznevjerili smo oboje kad njenoj ljutnji nismo dozvolili da bude prepoznata i razriješena. Ovo je tek mali primjer mnogo većeg problema. Jer kulturološki, u cijelom svijetu, stavljamo izvedbu muškosti te moć i privilegije koji uz tu izvedbu dolaze, iznad prava, potreba i glasova žena i djece.
So it will come as absolutely no surprise, probably, to the people in this room that women report being angrier in more sustained ways and with more intensity than men do. Some of that comes from the fact that we're socialized to ruminate, to keep it to ourselves and mull it over. But we also have to find socially palatable ways to express the intensity of emotion that we have and the awareness that it brings of our precarity. So we do several things. If men knew how often women were filled with white hot rage when we cried, they would be staggered.
Stoga vas vjerojatno neće ni najmanje iznenaditi, da po istraživanjima žene ljutnju osjećaju intenzivnije i duže od muškaraca. Razlog je dijelom u tome što smo odgajane da promišljamo, držimo jezik za zubima i promišljamo. Osim toga, moramo pronaći društveno prihvatljive načine izražavanja intenziteta emocija koje osjećamo i biti svjesne dojma koji ostavljaju. Zato radimo sljedeće. Kada bi muškarci znali koliko često žene ključaju od bijesa kad plaču, zaprepastili bi se.
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
We use minimizing language. "We're frustrated. No, really, it's OK."
Riječima umanjujemo važnost. "Frustrirane smo. Ne, stvarno, u redu je."
(Laughter)
(Smijeh)
We self-objectify and lose the ability to even recognize the physiological changes that indicate anger. Mainly, though, we get sick. Anger has now been implicated in a whole array of illnesses that are casually dismissed as "women's illnesses." Higher rates of chronic pain, autoimmune disorders, disordered eating, mental distress, anxiety, self harm, depression. Anger affects our immune systems, our cardiovascular systems. Some studies even indicate that it affects mortality rates, particularly in black women with cancer.
Same sebe objektificiramo i nismo u stanju prepoznati fiziološke promjene koje ukazuju na ljutnju. Najvažnije, razbolimo se. Ljutnja je dovedena u vezu s cijelim nizom bolesti koje se olako otpisuje kao "ženske boljke". Češće pojave kronične boli, autoimunih i poremećaja u prehrani, mentalnih poteškoća, tjeskobe, samoozljeđivanja, depresije. Ljutnja utječe na imunološki i krvožilni sustav. Neka istraživanja pokazuju da utječe i na stope smrtnosti, posebno od raka kod crnih žena.
I am sick and tired of the women I know being sick and tired. Our anger brings great discomfort, and the conflict comes because it's our role to bring comfort. There is anger that's acceptable. We can be angry when we stay in our lanes and buttress the status quo. As mothers or teachers, we can be mad, but we can't be angry about the tremendous costs of nurturing. We can be angry at our mothers. Let's say, as teenagers -- patriarchal rules and regulations -- we don't blame systems, we blame them. We can be angry at other women, because who doesn't love a good catfight? And we can be angry at men with lower status in an expressive hierarchy that supports racism or xenophobia. But we have an enormous power in this. Because feelings are the purview of our authority, and people are uncomfortable with our anger. We should be making people comfortable with the discomfort they feel when women say no, unapologetically. We can take emotions and think in terms of competence and not gender. People who are able to process their anger and make meaning from it are more creative, more optimistic, they have more intimacy, they're better problem solvers, they have greater political efficacy.
Sita sam gledati oko sebe umorne i bolesne žene. Naš je bijes neugodan. Do konflikta dolazi jer je naša uloga stvarati osjećaj ugode. Ima i prihvatljivih oblika. Smijemo se razljutiti ako ostanemo u zadanim okvirima i održavamo status quo. Kao majke ili učiteljice, smijemo se razljutiti, ali ne zbog visoke cijene odgoja. Možemo se ljutiti na naše majke. Recimo, kao tinejdžerice, za patrijarhalna pravila i ograničenja ne krivimo sustav, već njih. Možemo bijesniti na druge žene, jer tko ne voli kad se žene potuku? Možemo bijesniti na muškarce nižeg statusa u društvenoj hijerarhiji koja potiče rasizam ili ksenofobiju. Ali u tome je naša nevjerojatna moć. Budući da su osjećaji naše područje, a ljudima je naša ljutnja neugodna, trebale bismo ljude navikavati na osjećaj neugode koji osjećaju kad žene, bez ustručavanja, kažu "ne". Možemo na emocije gledati iz perspektive sposobnosti, ne roda. Ljudi koji su u stanju izraziti ljutnju i izvući pouku kreativniji su, optimističniji, otvoreniji su prema intimnosti, bolji u rješavanju problema, imaju veću političku uspješnost.
Now I am a woman writing about women and feelings, so very few men with power are going to take what I'm saying seriously, as a matter of politics. We think of politics and anger in terms of the contempt and disdain and fury that are feeding a rise of macho-fascism in the world. But if it's that poison, it's also the antidote. We have an anger of hope, and we see it every single day in the resistant anger of women and marginalized people. It's related to compassion and empathy and love, and we should recognize that anger as well.
Ja sam žena koja piše o ženama i osjećajima. Zato će malo muškaraca na pozicijama moći shvatiti moje riječi kao ozbiljno političko pitanje. U politici bijes se vezuje uz prijezir, omalovažavanje i srdžbu, na čijim se temeljima uzdiže mačizam u svijetu. Ali ako bijes i jest taj otrov, također je i protuotrov. Naš je bijes utemeljen u nadi i vidimo ga svakodnevno u otpornoj ljutnji žena i marginaliziranih skupina. Temelji se na suosjećanju, empatiji i ljubavi, te moramo prepoznati i taj bijes.
The issue is that societies that don't respect women's anger don't respect women. The real danger of our anger isn't that it will break bonds or plates. It's that it exactly shows how seriously we take ourselves, and we expect other people to take us seriously as well. When that happens, chances are very good that women will be able to smile when they want to.
Problem je što društva koja ne poštuju ženski bijes, ne poštuju ni žene. Stvarna opasnost našeg bijesa nije u uništavanju veza ili tanjura, već da jasno pokazuje koliko držimo do sebe i da očekujemo od drugih da nas shvate ozbiljno. Kad to postignemo, velike su šanse da će se žene moći smiješiti samo kada požele.
(Applause)
(Pljesak)
Thank you.
Hvala vam.
(Applause) (Cheers)
(Pljesak)