"What was I supposed to do?" That was the question that hung in the air after a middle school fight in 2016. He couldn't look me in the eye, still swaying and steaming like a boxer at the bell, telling me that his father taught him how to defend himself, that he had no desire to be a punching bag or a pushover. I wasn't his counselor, his coach, or his friend. I was his teacher. And I didn't have an answer. Or at least, nothing more than a common refrain, a platitude about turning the other cheek and walking away. Unfortunately, the world I was coming to know in middle age was a lot more like his, more hostile and hot-tempered than the world I kept teaching—and still teach—my kids to aspire. But it took me a lot of years, nearly half a life, to admit that I've been just as hostile and hot-tempered, just as unreasonable and impatient as the world I so often rail against. At times, despite every effort to remain hopeful and sane, I feel like I'm losing my steady mind. This book and these essays are an attempt to grapple with that original question, to look back at our collective rage, at all those things we've been feeling, that I've been feeling, right or wrong, and find an answer. After all these years of being angry, what are we supposed to do now?