We’ve probably moved on from Gus Walz’s emotional response to his dad accepting the vice presidential nomination at the Democratic National Convention, but it’s still worth discussing. I wondered what was really behind the hideous response to it. I think it’s more than he’s a male, or he’s neurodivergent. It’s because we haven’t seen real emotion like this in a long time.
Our culture celebrates a stony stoicism we consider mature. We’re expected to accept defeat with graciousness, heartbreak with unflappable grit, and physical pain with an action hero-style quip. When we see emotion at all, it’s either the anger to intimidate or the fake tears to manipulate. We distrust emotion because it is often used as a tool to control others. We rarely see it as the honest outpouring of an open soul.
That’s why Patrick Healy of the New York Times declared, “Joy is not a strategy.” It isn’t. The joy we saw at the DNC and the Olympics was a genuine expression of love for country and our fellow Americans we haven’t seen in a while. It’s what happens when we don’t demonize each other because of our political differences. When we raise each other up instead of looking for reasons to tear each other down. We stop seeing people as commodities to be exploited and see them as our neighbors. We celebrate their victories as our own. Their happiness lifts our spirits. This joy wasn’t engineered to garner votes, but we are more motivated to vote for what we want than what we fear.
Joy isn’t the only emotion we need as a country. America needs a good hard cry.
So much has happened over the past 30 years we haven’t adequately mourned for. Oklahoma City, the first victims of the conspiracy theory industry. September 11, where our grief was quickly replaced with a lust for revenge. January 6, where the perpetrators will be feted by Trump at his New Jersey country club. All the mass shootings that have been brushed aside with “thoughts and prayers.” And COVID that took the lives of 1.2 million Americans (and counting). But we’ve gone on with our lives as if the pandemic never happened.
Because we denied ourselves the chance to grieve, we denied ourselves the chance to heal. We shut ourselves out from the empathy that would enable us to connect with one another. That’s why we began distrusting one another. We stopped wondering if our neighbors were feeling the same things we’re feeling, especially when partisan media tells us to reject the evidence of our eyes and ears.
Collective grief, much like collective joy, can bring a people together. Crying together, embracing each other, helping each other through our pain. This unites a people. If you look throughout the world, moments of great tragedy have solidified national unity. And when they rebuild from that tragedy so they can experience joy again, it strengthens it even more.
In his moment of unabashed joy and tears, Gus Walz showed more maturity than people two or three times his age. Whatever special needs he has, he isn’t disabled from a calcified soul. Gus Walz showed us the way forward. Cry freely, love loudly, feel openly. To make America great again, it needs to discover its heart. When we find the hearts of each other, we can rebuild the nation together.
America needs a good hard cry—a cry of grief and a cry of joy. And when our tears clear, we can see each other as neighbors, friends, and fellow Americans.
