Joy is nuanced and each day emerges in many forms. 
A source of deep joy is the fact our world had 62 years with Paul Farmer in it. 

The journalist Tracy Kidder is known for his absorbing, subtle accounts of everyday heroism and moral tenacity. In 2000, Kidder published a striking Profile of Paul Farmer, a doctor who for decades served underrepresented communities in Haiti, and who died this week, at the age of sixty-two.

In “The Good Doctor,” Kidder follows Farmer as he tends to patients at Zanmi Lasante, a medical complex located in Haiti’s Central Plateau, and as he travels to other countries to boost interest in solving the health crises of poor communities worldwide. “No one else is treating impoverished Haitians with the new anti-retroviral drugs,” Kidder writes. “Even some of his allies in the Haitian medical establishment think he’s crazy to try. . . . But the fact that the poor are dying of illnesses for which effective treatments exist is, like many global facts of life, unacceptable to Farmer. Indeed, to him it is a sin.”

Kidder offers an observant perusal of what it takes to live with both idealism and humility, as well as with a helpful dose of humor. Farmer isn’t a saint, and Kidder is adept at revealing the very human side of altruism—as well as its costs.

The true nucleus of Kidder’s piece is Farmer’s focus on the interconnectedness between the rich and the poor, particularly in the field of health. However much prosperous nations may desire to gloss over such disparities, Kidder notes, figures like Farmer emerge to hold our feet to the fire, challenging us to question our complacency.

At one point, Farmer asks, “What does it mean to be human?” It’s an eternal question—and, to some extent, unanswerable. Yet by the end of Kidder’s vivid exploration, he has cleaved the ignorance and cynicism that insulate us—and, having shared Farmer’s question, has also provided a revelatory response.

https://www.pbs.org/education/blog/the-boundlessness-of-black-joy-reshaping-the-narrative

South African poet Koleka Putuma recounts memories of happiness and childhood innocence in her poem Black Joy. She focuses on describing a time of peace, playfulness and family.

“Isn’t it funny? / that when they ask about black childhood / all they are interested in is our pain / as if the joy-parts were accidental,” she writes. There is a common tendency to erase positivity when discussing the black experience, particularly in Africa. This poem acts as a symbol of all the good that simply never makes the literary cut.

 

The Boundlessness of Black Joy: Reshaping the Narrative

The Black experience in America is not a monolith. Traditionally, especially during Black History Month, we hear a silhouetted story of slavery, the civil rights era/Jim Crow, and countless advocates and allies that work tirelessly in the fight for racial equity. We hear this in media, classrooms and everyday conversations. These stories of triumph have become staples in the timeline of Black History. These stories are undoubtedly important, should be taught and play a great role in the voice and history of Black America but these stories often highlight the trauma, struggle and battles that Black Americans endured, and still endure today. 

Rethinking the Narrative of Black History
Shaping a new narrative is important to me; one that can be told in classrooms alongside the history. A narrative that highlights the love, successes, power, and flourishing lives of Black Americans today. One that showcases to our emerging leaders and learners that they have boundless opportunities to make change, create, and exist. A narrative of Black innovation, Black excellence and Black joy because our world does not move without it.

Love, Joy and Excellence are Part of the Black History Experience 
I grew up in a small Southwestern Pennsylvanian town that was majority white. I was one of a handful of Black students and students of color. I remember hearing these traditional stories and what it felt like being the only Black person in the room. The eyes and turning of heads when the teacher would ask what we thought Black people would feel or whomever the main character would feel in their story. I can remember there always being some trauma tied to the story… a death, a protest  or some moral/ethical quarrel always in question. The stories were rarely about love, or joy, excellence or innovation. They were always stories that would evoke emotions in me that didn’t resonate well.

Broadening the Scope will Broaden the View 
It was by example that I could see Black boundlessness. Through icons in the media, through my family and the teachers in my life, I came to understand that the story of Black America was more than history, it was also the future.  A future in which Black scientists, caretakers, leaders, creators, artists and families make the world go round.

Highlight more Black leaders, innovators, Black joy, successes and light. I also encourage you to integrate Black stories and excellence all year long – not just in one month. Our history is beautiful, powerful and vast and I promise you it is not one solely based on pain.

I hope everyone is having a great week.