At Homeboy Industries they call me “Anger Management.”
That is because that it is the name of the class that I teach there.
I feel intensely loved and seen at Homeboy Industries.
People know who I am; they just do not know my name.
“Hey, Anger Management, what’s up?” they yell across the hall.
Or “Anger Management, where were you last week?”
Every once in awhile, someone will see me in the street when I’m at a different location, and they’ll say, “Hey, Anger Management, what you doing here?”
My students at Homeboy Industries love trying to make me angry and to test my reactions. They think I always keep my cool.
They clearly haven’t spoken to my three children or seen me at home.
In general, in contradiction to the misconceptions people have about them, my Homies love to love.
I LOVE to love them back.
Sometimes loving is easy.
Sometimes loving is natural.
Sometimes we don’t need to make an effort to love.
But many times, it is painful.
Often, we have to fake it, and pray that we make it.
I tell my students that they should always make the effort to give love.
It doesn’t have to be full-blown and all emotional love.
Maybe, just a little tilt of the head, or a wink.
A small gesture, a moment in time.
In the class I teach, a lot of time is spent on anger and hurt towards the parent of a joint child, the “baby mama” or the “baby daddy” as they call them.
Regardless of what the court orders, there are always strong emotions — love lost, love betrayed, love and every shade and color that love, hate, and anger can possibly have.
In the class, “Act It Out – Anger Management” we role-play.
I try desperately to remind my students that the other parent many times is the bridge to their child. I tell them: “You cannot and should not break the only bridge you have to get to something you want.”
He waited until after class. Everybody left.
He asked me if we could talk. “Of course,” I said.
“She has a new man in her life,” he tells me.
“I’m trying to be nice.” He continues, “I shake his hand. I smile, but, Ms. I got to tell you, I’m not like that. I want to punch his face out so hard.”
“Okay,” I say. “Good you aren’t punching him.”
“No, you don’t understand, I really want to kill him,” he says.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I hear you, I understand”
I put my hand on his shoulder.
“You said that you shook his hand, that is great.” I smile at him.
He looked at me and said, “It felt like shit.”
“How does it feel to be in jail?” I asked.
He laughs.
“You don’t want to go back. Right? Is that man, the new man in your woman’s life worth doing time and getting locked up again?”
“It’s not that, Ms. Well, it’s that, too. I don’t know. This feels wrong. It’s not me. I don’t do stuff like this, make nice with people.”
He looks away from me.
“What does that mean? That’s BS!” I say
“Number one, you do – do stuff like that. You just told me that you did.
Number 2,” I add. “We talk about this all the time. You can’t just go beat up your ex’s new boyfriend, ‘cause you have feelings.”
“Here is the deal,” I tell him, he moves a little closer to me.
“We live with the pain. We smile and inside it hurts. With time it will hurt less, and at some point, you learn to accept the new situation. Right now, you just need to live with how you feel inside, and continue to do what you are doing. Even if it feels strange ”
“It is hard as fuck,” he says.
“Yes, it is,” I say.
“Do you have kids with this woman?” I ask. “Six,” he says. “And four with another woman,” he adds.
I laugh out loud, and then I apologize and say,
“I am sorry. I am not laughing at you, but dude – 10 kids! That’s a lot!” We both laugh.
“Hell, yeah, it is,” he says.
This is a kind, gentle, good looking man.
You can tell he once was a serious women’s man.
Time has not been kind to him.
I look at him smile again and add, “You might want to consider NOT having any more children.”
He laughs.
“How many kids do you have?” he asks.
“Not as many as you,” I say.
“Do you want to be with your ex?” I ask him. “Do you want to get back together with her?”
Without missing a beat, he says, “Hell, no! She’s fucking crazy!”
Now I am full-blown laughing.
“You just don’t want her to be with someone else, huh?”
He looks at me says, “You’re smart.”
We are both laughing.
“I am not so smart, I just have experience.” I say.
Then he says, “If she saw me with somebody, she would be as jealous as me.”
I look at this man who has had such a life.
“You have six children together with this woman. That’s not something that you can put in a drawer and walk away.
You have history and you shared love. Can you be happy that she’s happy? I know it’s hard to let people who have hurt us be happy, but why don’t you try and be proud that you’re not beating him up.
Be proud that you shook his hand. Be proud that you ARE actually one of those people, whoever they are.”
“Ms.,” he says. He looks a little bewildered. “I am used to doing bad things and having good thoughts. Now I do good things, but I have me not the best thoughts.”
“The second way is much better, and kind of how we all function.”
“You like that too?”I laugh again, and say,
“More than you can imagine.
Here is the secret – I try to cover it up with love, even when I’m hurting.”
“Well, Anger Management,” he says. “I am impressed with you. That’s good advice.” “Not as much as I am impressed with you! ” I tell him.
“Thank you for seeing that person in me,” he says.
“It was easy,” I tell him. “It was right in front of me.”
We share a long hug and I know, that this one is going to be just fine.
Naomi Ackerman is a Mom, activist, writer, performer, and the founder and Executive Director of The Advot (ripple) Project a registered 501(c)3 that uses theatre and the arts to empower youth at risk to live their best life.
