Why Women Don’t Get to Be Angry
When men get angry, their power grows. When women do, it shrinks.
My parents’ wedding, in 1965, was a lavish affair that went on for more than 20 hours and with more than 500 guests in attendance. Among the most prized gifts my parents received that day was their wedding china. These white-and-gold plates were more than an expensive gesture: They were an important symbol both of adulthood and their community’s and family’s approval of marriage in general and this marriage in particular. When I was growing up, these look-but-don’t-touch dishes were used only on the rarest and most special occasions, and always with great care.
That’s why, one day, when I was 15, I was dumbfounded to see my mother standing on the long veranda outside our kitchen, chucking one china plate after another as far and as hard as she could into the hot, humid air. Our kitchen was on the second floor of a house that sat perched atop a long, rolling hill. I watched each dish soar through the atmosphere, its weight generating a sharp, steady trajectory before shattering into pieces on the terrace far below.
While the image is vivid in my mind, I have no memory of any noise. My mother didn’t utter a sound the entire time. I have no idea if she even knew anyone was watching. When she was done, she walked back into the kitchen…
