Enveloped in Collective Joy

Growing up, first day of school was one of the most exciting moments of the year – right up there with my birthday. I loved being together with my friends after a summer of being apart, loved the excited voices ringing above the crowd, the hope of newness, and the nervous excitement. It felt like everyone around me, unplanned and unrehearsed, and, more importantly, unmuted, was vibrating at the same frequency. That feeling became a body memory: my gauge for knowing, in my gut, that I belong. 

As our family drove to Brightworks on the first day of school, not knowing what to expect, but full of silent hope for belonging, we distracted ourselves with small talk. Where do you think you need to go? Do we need to sign in? Can we come in with you? Today is a short day, right? Tense and stretched, like a rubber band pulled to its limit, we approached the already open door. 

“The Brightworks experience is unique because it is a collective joy baklava, with layers of irresistible, undeniable goodness stacked one on top of another.”

I heard it before I could see it: clapping. 

Waves of joyful sound coming from every direction. Students, parents, collaborators, administrators, all clapping, pulled together by some kind of invisible gravity. I didn’t know it right away, but I was clapping too. Suddenly, I stood in a room full of people I had not met, who somehow just felt like home. In that moment, all of us a diverse chorus, I felt globally connected to this community. It is true – you do not have to know the people around you to connect on a deeper level – you just have to be open to the feeling of collective joy. 

Collective joy can break down barriers between us and connect us in unexpected, unspoken ways. We are wired for it. The experience of collective joy is one of the most important opportunities we have as humans to feel social connection, peace, and belonging. The Brightworks experience is unique because it is a collective joy baklava, with layers of irresistible, undeniable goodness stacked one on top of another. 

There is the layer of working together with the other adults in the community: getting to know them, planning, brainstorming and ideating, learning, finding creative solutions, building, and making our community thrive, together; the layer of working with our children: fielding the questions, getting lost in discussion and discovery right alongside them, reveling in their curiosity and generosity of spirit, and watching a group of tweens forget all about the “should” and the “cool,” and just lose themselves in the joy of LARPing; and, in moments most unexpected, the layer of stepping back and simply being in the community: feeling the electricity generated by the collective joy enveloping everyone around you, young and old, until it becomes almost overwhelming and you feel like maybe your heart just grew too big to be contained in your body. 

These moments of everyday collective joy remind us that we are all inextricably connected. We are not alone. We belong.

Now, we are home.