The world will suppress it and call it refinement. And you’re gonna like it.
I’m at a point in my life where I have surpassed the first wave of anger that it is to be alive. You know the one. The one where you can barely forgive your parents for bringing you into this shitty world. The one full of raging angst and life threatening rebellion. The range of crazy varies depending on personality, but we all have a raging demon in our hearts and, regardless of what they tell you, is beautiful.
The second wave comes from education. Doesn’t have to be institutional, it can be the simple facts that surround your reality. There is so many things people say you can’t change. And everyone has been telling you to just succumb to the way things are and be happy from within.
Sure, blame the victim.
While I do believe happiness is a state of mind and not a pursuit, it is fleeting and banal so that you can achieve actual elation. The reality is everyone is depressed. The few moments of light are ones we hold on to — the ones that ease our effervescent anger.
Now. You have a choice. Do you — listen to your people and let it go? Or do you fight for change? I can’t stress this enough, there is no wrong answer. Your life is yours and you will disappoint the other grass patch regardless of what you do. What’s important is that you don’t loose yourself and who you are — anger included.
You need to learn how to behave and work with the people around you, or so I am constantly told. You aim to be a respectable, working adult. But you also want to be part of the change side. As you delve into the rabbit holes of being a citizen, you must make the decisions that take you the correct offices and conference rooms, and when you get there a person will give you the same piece of advise I will give you now:
Work smart. Don’t fly in with the anger in full display. Be crafty. Hide it. Channel it. Use it.
The five steps of grief will begin, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. I am still in this process, and I might be stuck at depression. There is so much I need to achieve, and there are so many forces trying to make it impossible. There are so many mechanisms at play.
So I keep repeating myself my mantra,
If you are smarter. You will win.
Is this acceptance?
This story was inspired on a recent experience I had. An Indian girl that is relatively new to this country in my Master’s Program, encountered the concept of greenwashing for the first time. It was heartbreaking to see her fervor be dismantled by the reality of corporate greed and corrupt policy manipulation. “This is America,” I said. “Money talks and bullshit walks.” I hated myself. So much. I had been her many times before. And here I was.
Was it being smarter? Or squashing positive energy of change? I was pleasantly surprised that she was not so easily squashed. It reminded me that those who crave real change will fight it for no matter what. We choose our methods, I said to myself…
I actively feel the world oppressing our collective desire for change. Everywhere I turn is like a constant battle of resistance. Perhaps it is my personality, or my seemingly lofty goals. But something in my core tells me I am not wrong — most people are just complacent. As I ponder on these things while I work on my own version of activism — a nagging thought lingers in my brain.
IS THERE STILL ROOM FOR ANGER IN THIS WORLD?
This piece is part of my personal collection. While activism is very much alive in the world of architecture, it is not often associated with the discourse. Hopefully there is space in this platform for the coalition of both.
I am an Aspiring Architect. My goals are to help design the sustainable cities of tomorrow, build in outer space & help people be successful. If you’d like to never, ever miss my posts, consider following and subscribing! If that seems to be a huge commitment, perhaps consider joining Medium (if you use my link I get $2.50 out of it) if you haven’t already. Doing so will give you access to other informative articles within this incredibly diverse platform.
