I have been mulling over this concept of collective joy as of late. The COVID-19 lockdown and isolation seems like a distant memory, however, we have never fully dissected or discussed what we went through as a collective. Everyone experienced the concept of a global pandemic, but we all experienced the nuances of COVID-19 and the lockdown in different ways. As I emerge from the haze of 2020 (and 2021, if we’re being honest), I am thinking more about how I spend my time and who I spend my time with as I try to process these past few years. We made it. We somehow survived this mysterious phenomenon as others around our country and the rest of the world died quickly or slowly. As I think about the construct of time, family, friendship, the purpose of work, and the meaning of it all, I am thinking more and more about the importance of collective joy in my life.
Some were overwhelmed by all of the people suddenly in their homes 24 hours a day. Others were incredibly lonely, not seeing another human being for weeks at a time. The days dragged on, and for others who were juggling so much, the feeling of fleeting days blending into one long, never ending day was almost maddening. The construct of time began to warp, and how I thought about spending my time also shifted. I began to ask myself, “If it can all end at any moment, why am I doing anything that doesn’t bring me joy?”
Part of my reflection on living a life filled with joy was the conscious effort to spend time with people who bring me joy: friends and family as well as strangers. As I mentioned in a previous column, I began attending sporting events and even treated myself to Knicks season tickets because being around other people who are experiencing joy invigorates me. Collective joy at a Mets game, or a Giants or Jets game, or a Knicks or Liberty game has brought me so much happiness—even when the teams aren‘t winning. Experiencing collective emotions has helped me feel connected to my fellow New Yorkers.
Going to a musical performance or a play has also helped me feel the energy of other human beings who, like me, are continuing to emerge from their respective caves over four years since lockdown. We are forever changed from the events of 2020, from COVID-19 to police violence to racial reckonings. We are forever changed, even if we do not still actively speak about what occurred. For me to fully process it all, I must keep my 2020 feelings accessible. I must remember what it felt like to miss my fellow New Yorkers. And mostly, I must access the collective joy around me.
Christina Greer, Ph.D., is an associate professor at Fordham University; author of “Black Ethnics: Race, Immigration, and the Pursuit of the American Dream”; and co-host of the podcast FAQ-NYC and host of The Blackest Questions podcast at TheGrio.