A Lesson in Laughter

Is it just me, or has the first three months of the year felt like five years instead of three months? Between the political unrest, wildfires in California, and issues in my own personal life, I have been in dire need of inspiration and hope.  

Though it seems like Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) have become dirty words in our country, the company I work for still has a functioning DEI department, and one of the programs they implemented in honor of Black History Month last month really gave me a much-needed pick-me-up that I’d like to share with you all.  

The title of the program was The Power of Black Resilience. Our DEI manager went through several slides, videos, and documents that addressed the many obstacles black people have had to overcome to survive, specifically in corporate America. There were examples of both overt and covert discrimination, as well as tips for allies on how they can support people of color in the workplace. All of that information was good, but it was nothing new to me since I’ve been navigating and maneuvering around racism and discrimination my whole life.  

Actually, I’m tired of doing so and almost resigned to throwing my hands up and saying, “Forget about it!” Then, the presenter pulled another reference out. It was a one-page document entitled “Seven Psychological Strengths of African Americans,” and according to the presenter, it was written by one of her college professors, Dr. Joseph White. I won’t discuss all seven points, but here’s a link to the document if you’re interested in reading it.  All seven of his points have been helpful in reminding me how strong and resilient my ancestors were, but the point that has been most impactful to me at this very moment is the following:

Gallows humor. The ability to laugh and cry as we move through a storm. Crying about the tragedy and the ability to see some comedy in the midst of human dilemmas. Check out Langston Hughes & a character he used to write about that he called “Jesse B. Simple.”

In the past few months, I have experienced a number of different setbacks, so much so that it was becoming hard for me to find joy in my everyday experience, which is abnormal for me because I can usually find something funny about everything. Dr. White’s description of how black people, historically, have found ways to laugh even in the face of tragedy reminded me that no matter what is going on in my life, I cannot allow circumstances to steal my joy. Reading that almost felt like an alarm waking me up from months of sleep. I’m alive and in good health. I have a family, friends, and community that love me. There is a roof over my head, and my bills are paid. I have no reason to walk around with a cloud of sadness over my head. 

Laughter is medicine for the soul, and baby, I’m gonna laugh!  I’m thankful for that reminder from our DEI department. I’m still very aware of all the things going on around me, but I’m also intentional about allowing myself to indulge in a bit of levity, even when situations feel impossibly heavy. I challenge you to do the same.