Here’s a line from the fabulous novel Nothing to See Here, by Kevin Wilson, that I could relate to on a deep level:
“When I was a kid, I’d been so angry that I was a girl and couldn’t dunk, . . .”
The protagonist loves basketball. Basketball hoops are set at certain heights. As a girl of a certain height, the protagonist simply could not dunk the ball into the hoop. It makes me angry, too.
It makes me particularly angry because I spent my childhood trying to be a musician. But I have uncommonly small fingers, not good for piano playing. I could only play certain pieces, ones that did not require large hands. And I have uncommonly small lungs, not good for trumpet playing. I could only play certain parts, those that allowed for more breath taking and fewer high notes.
I would not go so far as to say I was angry that I was a girl; I have always liked being a girl, for whatever reason. But I was angry that society created these constraints. I was living in a world built for men. For example, there’s no reason why someone couldn’t build a piano with smaller keys.
Anything here strike a chord with you? Are you angry?
Yeah. After years of denial, I realized there’s always some anger, and its root fear, mixed with rampant ego, lurking.
I wanted to be a writer and teacher, but sold out in the interest of getting parental financial support for
college. I wimped, figured I’d kick the can up the road and deal with it later.
I wanted to be a musician, and was for a while. I really wanted to play guitar, but my fingers are too fat, and my first band needed a bass player. Fewer strings. Four lessons, then got angry learning the Circle of Fifths. No more lessons after that.
Now I still do make music, but it’s mostly digital. I am
angry that my Yeti mic doesn’t work with my new MacBook Air. I gently release that anger by calling support people at Apple and Yeti, treating them as the humans they are, and they respond with vigor. Tech support is a hard business – you spend all day fielding calls from angry customers with problems, many of which you can’t solve.
My anger is rarely externalized/emoted in an “angry” way. I don’t yell or disrespect unless I’m yelling at someone to get out of the way of an oncoming bus. Which can be a problem – you can’t keep anger you. I work to turn it into kind, respectful dialogue. Sometimes I succeed.
Your guitar story is interesting. I’m not the only one who has had trouble with musical instruments, then….