They Like Us Politically Angry

Last week in Minneapolis, an ICE agent fatally shot a 37-year-old woman.

And once again, the reaction followed a familiar script. Polarization. Outrage. Anger snapping into place as the primary lens through which everything gets interpreted.

I hate politics.

I hate the smoke and mirrors. I hate the bait and switch. I hate how every cycle promises accountability and delivers exhaustion. I hate how marginalized people always end up at the bottom of the wreckage.

I hate Trump’s commitment to an “us vs. them” America, and how division is intentionally cultivated and rewarded.

But I’ve learned that anger is always available. Always rewarded. And always costly.

A nervous system in constant threat mode loses nuance. Anger feels clarifying, but it actually shrinks how we think. The more activated we stay, the worse we get at complex problem-solving, collaboration, and empathy. Everything becomes urgent. Everything becomes binary. A permanent red alert. A doom-spiral.

This isn’t about pretending I don’t feel anger. It’s about refusing to stay there.

I could live in that rage. I could let it sharpen me into something perpetually reactive.

Or I could decide, deliberately, what I want more of.

I know stepping back is a privilege many don’t have. People directly targeted by these policies can’t opt out. Their safety depends on staying alert. I don’t minimize that reality.

At the same time, the loudest outrage often comes from people online with the least at stake. People insulated enough to argue, post, perform, and log off. Turning real harm into a spectator sport.

Lots of motion. Lots of moral positioning. Very little material change.

No rent paid. No safety secured. No agency restored.

That doesn’t mean caring is wrong. It means mistaking expression for impact is easy. Especially when platforms reward heat over help, and spectacle over substance. Especially when division is profitable.

Our dysregulation is the business model.

So I’m making a different choice.

I still vote. I still donate. I still name injustice when silence would be harm.

What I do not do anymore is let my attention be farmed by endless performance loops that exhaust everyone and change very little. I am done being outrage-adjacent but impact-light.

Opting out of performance is not the same as opting out of responsibility.

I am choosing to build something else. On purpose.

More kindness. More groundedness. More aliveness. More do-able good.

More lightness that acknowledges the darkness. but refuses to live inside it

I want to live a life that reflects what I want more of. And I am no longer willing to outsource that decision to outrage algorithms and chaos merchants.

This system thrives on our exhaustion. And I’m too tired to play.

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