Anger and me

I'm quite demanding when it comes to being heard by men. And I feel that I'm not unlike several female ancestors; there's this feeling I believe we share that in order to muffle my sense of inferiority to men I want to argue my point – and I want to win.

This year I have been doing a course necessary to allow me to work as a hospital chaplain in Queensland public hospitals. This has involved a great deal of theory work as well as visiting patients as a student chaplain. Before embarking on the course I made it very clear to the course director and coordinator about my beliefs regarding God, and Jesus not being God, and, as it was a multi-faith course, it was felt not to be an impediment to my participating. I was cautioned not to proselytise and readily agreed as I too want to correct this tendency in me (or so I tell myself!)

I like writing; I feel I can express myself better than when I speak. I have enjoyed doing my written work during the course; reflecting on patient interactions and on course material is quite satisfying now I understand a little bit about the principles of love and truth as taught by Jesus and Mary. And after years of uncertainty about the truth, I find it pretty exciting to discuss what I finally feel very sure about.

But in the last few days I have been made aware that I have upset a few people. One assignment in the Ethics module asked that I choose two or three people from my parish or any other large group who impressed me as examplars of good health, describe them, commenting on whether they have any health problems as well as strengths and what impresses me about them. My choice was easy. I wrote about Jesus and Mary as I believe that they are the two healthiest people on our planet at this time.

I don't think I will mind if I am asked to leave the course, feeling somewhat unsure about whether I am benefiting anyone in my role as hospital chaplain. I'm not worried about upsetting people by saying what I believe to be the truth. But is there an angry component in here for me? The lecturer who marked the assignment and reacted strongly to what I said and then reported his concerns to the course director was a man who irritated me because he would not allow free discussion during his classes. My father was a man who held strong, and in my opinion often bigoted, views and I very much feared his rage should anyone dare to contradict him.

I looked forward to responding to the concerns voiced by the director. I wanted to point out that I had answered the question accurately and truthfully; I wanted to justify my position and I wanted to win the toss. I didn't want to use this opportunity to feel my long-held anger at men because I don't want to feel inferior. It may be that this anger is why I don't mind upsetting others when I speak my truth, which makes it, interestingly, an unloving thing to do. As always, the question comes back to: what is my motivation in speaking the truth?

And when it came down to writing the letter, on re-reading it I found I had been almost completely conciliatory. True, I had initially said what was on my mind, but then I'd gone back and taken out anything that might result in their being angry at me. And I'd couched everything in the most politically correct way you can imagine. Interestingly, all it did was increase my resentment towards those running the course.

It occurs to me that there's no running away from my anger. I can write and re-word and distract myself (I tried four times unsuccessfully to get through to a government body on the phone after writing my letter, waiting ages on hold and having to listen to that same old tune over and over!) and whinge to my friends about the issue all I like, but in the end that nubbin of anger still sits in my belly. Reminding me that there is only one effective way to remove it permanently.