The Endlessness of Black Joy
Despite the constant reminders across media outlets, there is magnifying joy to relish in as a Black person. It can be simple, unvarying, and ordinary, or it can be extravagant, but it serves purpose and qualifies our well-being.
Joy within the Black community across the diaspora is untouchable. It is a collage of resilience, joy, culture, and body. It blooms without hesitancy and broadens as we learn. Our happiness has allowed us to relish in our pride. We unconditionally love our community as we separate from everything surrounding us and take the time to breathe, laugh, rejoice, sing, dance, and all of the above.
While Black joy is powerful and prevalent, it can always be expanded and maintain a stronger source. Strengthening this source begins with teaching Black children at an early age the simultaneous importance in joy and struggle. School is where we develop critical understandings, and constantly reinforcing the tragedies of the Black community hinder the early development of Black joy that is needed to emphasize the excellence in the collective. As observed in the research article, “‘They never told us that Black is beautiful’: Fostering Black joy and Pro-Blackness pedagogies in Early Childhood Classrooms,” Michelle Grace Williams analyzes that “classroom narratives must address this problem by normalizing positive images of Blackness including Black history…” in order to sustain and engage the idea of Black happiness.
When we learn about historical Black figures, it is always about their struggle and constant fight to stay afloat. These stories mold to the heart of the Black community, but along with it comes the trauma and hurt. Focusing on pain for so long is overbearing, but luckily we have found ourselves, yet again, bringing serenity to our diaspora. “Black joy is everywhere. It’s a collective experience, and can even be an act of resistance” as voiced from the Unpacking Black Joy From The Revolutionary to the Ordinary Video by The Root (0:54). When racism is used to degrade us, our simple act of being joyful around each other defies and reduces its force.
There is no simple way to define Black joy. Radical, unbothered, and liberated joy is literally everywhere. Our hair is Black joy. From cornrows, knotless, Fulani braids, twists, and all of the above. Going to the barber shop around the corner for a cut or sitting down for hours as an auntie braids down your curls is Black joy. Our music, artistry, and passions are Black joys. We do not need anyone else to understand why it brings us joy, as long as we can find our own connections to the joys around us. Happiness and self-discovery is Black joy.
Within the Black community, there are gendered differences in specific communal issues, where the movements of empowerment stem from certain Black groups. While Black joy is a collective feeling across all groups, there is importance in phrases like “Black girl magic” and “Black boy joy.”
Reclaiming traditional gender roles was a trailblazing aspect in building upon the wellness of our community. Revolutionary strides in the Black happiness, especially for Black women, was seen in the 1960s era of afros and locs. The unison of so many women wearing afros carried much weight in support of the movement in redefining our hair with zero tolerance for any limitations placed upon it. Creating this collective of Black individuals embracing a shared feature of ours is what I assume was effortless because it was an outlet of happiness and form of individuality. Similarly with music, where our expression would light up jazz clubs and take over the radio. Seeing other Black people being able to love something that belongs to our community that we were tempted to resent, makes our self-expression extremely more enriching. It also makes it more sacred in protecting.
Discrimination is prominent against how Black people express themselves. For instance, our vast dialect and hairstyles in the workplace, school, sporting events, or social events were ridiculed. Hair specifically, became an even greater issue, so much so that the C.R.O.W.N (Create a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair) Act, introduced by Senator Holly Mitchell, was just recently enacted in 2019 in order to protect Black people and our hair. But, it simultaneously protects our happiness. Movements like this also reflect how other forms of Black livelihood and happiness were protected by equality movements and lives. Black joy is revolutionary.
It is important that through these revolutions, we recognize those that may have lost their outlet to Black joy because it became a fight to reclaim it. Through the C.R.O.W.N Act’s Research studies, it showed that “while 90% of Black girls believe their hair is beautiful, the microaggressions and discrimination she endures has an impact on how she sees herself.” A staple in the Black community that symbolizes so much, including happiness, must be cherished and protected because there is a reality where Black joy is threatened. “Black joy can be fostered and sustained by drawing from Pro-Blackness narratives existing in children’s lives” and Black hair is an essential character in embracing Blackness, especially because it serves as an example that anything Black we enjoy is worth cherishing and protecting (Williams, 2022). Boys and girls should not and will now hopefully not have to fear being denied a job or mistreated in any place for any part of their expression of Black happiness.
We should not have to fight for joy, let alone pass acts through Congress to protect forms of Black expression and joy, but yet through adversity and with overwhelming passion the Black community made it well known to the world that we will prioritize our needs, rights, and happiness. “Black joy can be multi-dimensional and contextual. It can be resistance to oppression, but it doesn’t have to be” (The Root, 3:28). There is simplicity in happiness that we deserve and embrace within everything.
There is substance behind the little things that can induce the serenity we feel from happiness. It touches the soul and is a form of investment, generating wealth amongst our minds and supporting our well-being and mental health. As the conversation of mental health grows and the stigma is unpacked, a new outlet for Black pride generates.
In the most simple of things, happiness can be channeled and shared. Black joy does not cancel anyone out, or it would not truly be a form of joy. The creation of such joyous things can be recognized in representation. Representation is a great catalyst for Black joy because we are able to see ourselves authentically. It notably can be recognized in several aspects, like film, music, or history, but there are situations like mental health and well-being where our experiences are not highlighted.
There is pride in caring for our minds and healing the individual and communal trauma that seeps through it. Taking the time to recover and reevaluate our emotional states are strides to Black joy. There is a difference and importance in forms of self-care that surround the individual and the Black community, a type of “radical self-care” as worded by the research article, “Reclaiming Self-care: Self-care as a Social Justice Tool for Black Wellness” written by Janan P. Wyatt and Gifty G. Ampadu. It’s impossible to take the community out of the individual, let alone the individual out of the community. So, both aspects of Black people’s individuality and Blackness need to be accounted for when it comes to preventing or treating mental health needs in order to reach the core of the person. “Sustainable self-care practices should be accessible in various levels of the individual and community ecology” (Ampadu, Wyatt, 2021). Self-care that offers temporary relief can only sustain temporary joy. What needs to be emphasized in practicing self-wellness is its ability to be continuous and buildable, so that each step can be more revitalizing than the previous. A Black person growing and developing their peace of mind is the formation of Black joy.
Black joy can teach lessons and be used to bring that peace of mind one is searching for. Insecurities and obstacles can often be resolved if you look at how others have resolved them or embraced them. For instance, in the song, Don’t Touch My Hair by Solange Knowles, she begins the song about the importance of hair and how it is “the feelings [she] wears,” speaking on two different forms of Black joy, hair and emotion or mind (Knowles 2016, 0:08). The title of the song also hints at a common challenge of not wanting our hair to be treated as objects. From her lyricism, she makes it known that hair represents how she feels, her persona for the time she wears a style, and the empowerment and beauty she feels from its variety.
Finding pride in one feature can often spark hidden pride in others. “They say the truth is my sound” (Knowles 2016, 2:00). Knowles uses hair as a gateway to address other notable features of Blackness. Our culture, words, and dialects are symbols of our pride and joy. Our voices carry emotion and truth, giving authenticity to what we have to say in spaces where we are encouraged not to be vocal. Black joy enables this intersectionality and amplifies it to continue to explore the realms of Blackness and community.
Additional challenges of Black expression can be seen with the use of African American Vernacular English (AAVE). The stigma behind such a weighted language and dialect has intent to label it in a derogatory way, when it is simply a way of communication that enables expression and often exhilaration. Music, especially, elevated that power. Emphasized in the book, Black Orpheus: Music in African American Fiction from the Harlem Renaissance to Toni Morrison by Sadi A. Simawe, musicians “add to music’s traditional sounds by incorporating distinctive oral modes from their vernacular roots and using these to distance their music from the mainstream” (Simawe 2015, 161). The use of African American Vernacular English (AAVE) to avoid the erasure of the originality and uniqueness of the songs of music was revolutionary for the community because for once, something became truly ours. It was used to “appropriate the literary tradition” and use the language one develops a relationship with, instead of forcefully burying that connection to meet the standards of the masses (Simawe 2015, 162). Our rejection was in the seamless form of Black joy.
One of the most important things about Black joy is the healing it can provide, especially in times of chaos and injustice. During the crusade of Black death in 2020, blood, sweat, and tears were shed in the fight for justice. Senseless death was happening all around our community and it seemed as if there was not going to be an end. It was a time when it was hard to be joyful, hard to turn on your phone or television without seeing a headline on another innocent Black boy killed and how the culprits will not be held responsible for their crimes. Or anxiously waiting on the verdict for brutal police officers that you know in the back of your mind will never have to face justice. Those are the times when Black joy is difficult to refocus on.
After the storm, there is still a plague of dreadful emotions that break down our emotional state. “Instead of paying attention to your feelings of anxiety or depression, or the signs of distress, you press forward. You remind yourself that Black people persevere” as observed by Rheeda Walker and Na’im Akbar in The Unapologetic Guide to Black Mental Health: Navigate an Unequal System, Learn Tools for Emotional Wellness, and Get the Help You Deserve (Akbar, Walker 2020, 1). That pressure we feel in constantly being strong can only get us so far because in hindsight, it will threaten our seeking of joy.
We fall into this period where hurt surrounds us, understandably, making it hard to navigate when and how we can heal. Writer, Zora Neale Hurston, analyzed this loss of focus on Black joy in her writing in the early 1930s, where she criticizes the “pressure African American artists feel to only relay stories of Black tragedy and oppression” as said in The Politics of Black Joy Zora Neale Hurston and Neo-Abolitionism by Lindsey Stewart (Stewart 2021, 29). These kinds of writers and people in general that only seem to focus on Black pain, go off of the energy that the community seems to radiate. But, during those times where there is too much heartache is when we need the narrative to change, and for just one person to take lead in reopening our eyes to the much needed laughs and smiles that come from our many outlets of Black joy.
Because there are so many forms of this Black happiness, there is an aspect of intersectionality involved in it. Similarly with self-care, there are many lenses of a person in order to approach their mental health needs, and using this idea of an “intersectionality framework,” there becomes a countless number of ways Black joy can be expressed for the individual (Ampadu, Wyatt). Black joy can be up to the person, group, or the Black collective. It ranges from anything to everything because nothing is a limit on what can bring up positive and healing happiness.
The Black community has never failed to find joy and make strides to find solace. Black joy is the foundation of the community’s excellence and will always be an engrained principal.
Our success is Black joy. Our representation is Black joy. Our hair is Black joy. Our artistry is Black joy. Our excellence is Black joy. Our minds are Black joy. Black joy is and forever will be endless.
Works Cited
The Official CROWN Act. (n.d.). Retrieved November 15, 2022, from https://www.thecrownact.com/
Simawe, S. A. (2015). Black Orpheus Music in African American fiction from the Harlem Renaissance to Toni Morrison. Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group.
Solange — Don’t Touch My Hair ft. Sampha (Official Music Video). (2016). YouTube. Retrieved November 15, 2022, from https://youtu.be/YTtrnDbOQAU.
Stewart, L. (2021). The Politics of Black joy Zora Neale Hurston and Neo-abolitionism. Northwestern University Press.
Unpacking Black Joy From The Revolutionary to the Ordinary. (2021). YouTube. Retrieved November 15, 2022, from https://youtu.be/SKBwJgQ-btc.
WALKER, R. H. E. E. D. A. (2021). Unapologetic Guide to Black Mental Health: Navigate an unequal system, learn tools for… emotional wellness, and get the help you deserve. READHOWYOUWANT.
Williams, M. G. (2022). “They never told us that Black is beautiful”: Fostering Black joy and Pro-Blackness pedagogies in early childhood classrooms. Journal of Early Childhood Literacy, 22(3), 357–382. https://doi.org/10.1177/14687984221121163
Wyatt, J.P., Ampadu, G.G. Reclaiming Self-care: Self-care as a Social Justice Tool for Black Wellness. Community Ment Health J 58, 213–221 (2022). https://doi-org.libproxy1.usc.edu/10.1007/s10597-021-00884-9
