I am Canadian, but when I heard about the American presidential results, I had a panic attack. The moment my dad said the words, “We didn’t win,” my knees went weak, and my throat closed up. I started to gasp for breath, choking on nothing. I felt sad, but more than anything, I was scared. I was scared for my American friends and for the future of human rights. 

Over the next few days, I sat cross-legged on my bedroom floor, staring blankly in front of me with an unpleasant feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to punch something. At first, I couldn’t wrap my head around what I was feeling. It was different than sadness or fear. But after driving my fist into my open palm several times, I realized what I was experiencing was pure, raw anger. And while I have no doubt that others were feeling this way, too, I also have no doubt that countless numbers of them were having that anger minimized or dismissed outright. 

The ways men and women are taught to express their emotions are different. Men are socialized to eschew crying or expressing vulnerability, so they are not seen as weak and feminine. They are allowed to express anger, but they are also expected to use it as a replacement for other emotions. Whether they’re sad or scared or feeling vulnerable, society tells them the only emotion they’re allowed to feel is anger, and so that’s how they’re expected to express everything else.  

In contrast, women are taught not to express anger because it supposedly makes them seem unpleasant and unattractive. From a young age, little girls are taught to ignore and suppress their anger to avoid making others uncomfortable. They’re allowed to cry when they’re feeling sad or vulnerable, but that’s also the only socially approved outlet for anger. Because when you express anger as a woman, you’re doing it wrong. It’s disruptive and it makes people uncomfortable—and you’ll probably hear that from men as well as other women. This deprives women of a healthy outlet for their emotions, which can cause serious effects on their mental health. For instance, approximately 57% of teenage girls report feeling persistently sad and hopeless. 

Everyone experiences anger, and it can be an appropriate response to injustice (depending on how it’s expressed). The ways that society sees women’s anger are condescending, demeaning, and flat-out insulting. Angry women are often seen as shrill, hormonal, or overreacting to the situation. Interestingly, the gendered stereotypes we see in the media about Jewish women paint them as shrill and brash—a not-so-subtle way of making Jewish women seem “unwomanly.” When non-Jewish women express their emotions in a way that society deems incorrect, they’re guilty of not doing “woman” correctly. When Jews do it, not only are they not doing “woman” correctly, but they’re also seen as demonstrating one more way they are an “other.” 

But anger can be a very powerful tool for Jewish women. On April 2, 1911, Rose Schneiderman gave a speech demanding change from the men running the garment industry after a fire at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory killed 146 workers, mostly young women. In this speech, Rose Schneiderman expressed her fury that her employers did not value her safety or her life. Her work, along with the work of other labor rights activists inspired a movement for worker’s rights. She wasn’t being whiny or manipulative; she was angry, and that anger sparked a movement. And placing it squarely in the middle of the conversation sparked something in other people. 

Even when something has happened that you know you cannot change, that doesn’t mean you don’t have the right (or even obligation) to be angry. And even though election results can’t be changed, that doesn’t mean your anger is misplaced or you’re overreacting. When you are surrounded by others who share your emotions and desire to make change, anger can be liberating. 

The worst feeling is to be both angry and alone. If you are a woman or gender-diverse person who has ever expressed frustration to others, you are probably all too familiar with such lovely (read: infuriating) phrases as, “It’s really not that deep,” “You’re overreacting,” or best of all, “Just calm down.” Anger is a universal experience. For Jewish women and gender-diverse people in particular, it’s a deep, nuanced expression of resilience, survival, and justice. One of the most effective ways to take away someone’s voice is by telling them, directly or indirectly, that they are not allowed to be angry. But when there is an attack on your personhood, getting angry should be one of your first responses, because that anger can be turned into change. That anger is proof of your integrity—and that is something no one can ever take away.