We heard a lot about joy last week. It was a constant theme at the Democratic convention, tossed around by politicians, donors, celebrities and the media, all to describe the surging campaign of Vice President Kamala Harris and Tim Walz.
“Kamala Harris and the New Politics of Joy,” read a New York magazine headline.
“Democrats rejoice as ‘joyful’ Kamala Harris puts them back in the game,” exclaimed the Guardian.
According to the New York Times, the word “joy” was heard more than 50 times from DNC speakers. Walz himself spoke of “bringing the joy.” Al Sharpton ended his comments with “Joy! Joy! Joy!” Oprah Winfrey sang “JOYYYYY!” so fervently it brought a roar of approval from the crowd.
You’ll forgive me. But I am always wary when people who want to govern us predict how happy we’re going to be. Donald Trump, when running for president in 2016, once exclaimed “We’re gonna win so much, you may even get tired of winning! And you’ll say, ‘Please, please, it’s too much winning! We can’t take it anymore!’ ’’
Well, he was right about the last sentence. He lasted one term. Now he’s back, but being cast as the dour candidate, while Harris is the one whose election will spread positivity across the land.
We the people are too smart for this. At least we should be.
There is nothing wrong with joy. In fact, there is everything right with it.
It just doesn’t come from a politician.
It never has.
What is joy, anyway?
But while we’re at it, let’s talk about joy. Actual joy. Where does it come from? To answer, we should first define what joy is, and if it differs from happiness. Some say happiness is an external emotion, whereas joy is something you feel inside.
I’d differentiate them this way: Something you experience, even for a moment, can make you happy — a bowl of ice cream, your favorite song on the radio — but you have to find joy in your soul. That’s why many religious people claim to have it. Like the gospel song proclaims, “I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy, down in my heart.”
In thinking about this column, I tried to define moments that brought me joy — soothing, inspiring joy. They all came back to the same thing: other people. Our little 2-year-old, Nadie, holding my hand at the beach and squealing “Oooh!” as she felt her first ocean wave swirl around her feet. One of the kids from our orphanage in Haiti, after we complimented him on what an intelligent, loving and respectful young college student he had become, saying, matter-of-factly, “Well, you guys made me this way.” My loving wife, sitting at the kitchen table, kicking out one of her unexpected funny lines that makes me laugh like a hyena. Watching my nieces and nephews feeding their new babies, or feeling little Nadie fall asleep in my arms, her head tucked into my shoulder.
Every joyous moment I can conjure involves a connection to someone or something I love. So many are about children. Or big, loud Thanksgiving meals. Or playing the piano and singing oldies songs in a band. Or lying on a pillow at night knowing everyone in the family is OK, no one is sick, no one in crisis; for the moment, I can sleep in gratitude.
And that’s something, too. Gratitude. Joy makes you grateful. But it also works in reverse. When you can truly say, “I so appreciate what I have in my life,” there’s a calmness that settles over you like a warm mist. If that’s not actual joy, it’s surely the main ingredient.
And it has nothing to do with politics.
We know where our joy comes from
Now, I believe that cynicism, like bacon cheeseburgers, is something we should not indulge in often. It does us little good. But if you’re not cynical about politics in 2024, you’re probably not paying attention.
When Donald Trump questions whether someone is actually Black, or compares his crowd sizes to Martin Luther King Jr., cynicism may be the only logical reaction. And when Harris, who has been in the White House the last three and a half years, promises “a new path forward” without anyone holding her accountable for the path behind, cynicism is appropriate.
But we should be most skeptical when politicians want to usurp our emotions. Joy will not come from electing someone. Ronald Reagan ran on “morning in America.” Bill Clinton ran on “putting people first.” Barack Obama ran on “hope and change.” All of them, at some point in their presidencies, had approval ratings of 38% or lower.
It won’t be any different for whomever wins in November. Sometimes I get the feeling all of American politics has come down to the strategy of a movie marketer: Put out a glitzy, alluring trailer, back it with the right mood music, don’t let critics see the real thing until after people have already bought their tickets, then grab a big box office win and disappear.
There’s not much we can do to stop that. But we can at least know when we’re being manipulated. I hope whoever ends up as president governs wisely and fairly. But our joy won’t come from their ascension. It comes from love, humanity, faith and the searingly human moments that touch our hearts. And it always will.
Contact Mitch Albom: malbom@freepress.com. Check out the latest updates with his charities, books and events at MitchAlbom.com. Follow him @mitchalbom.
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