It is difficult for me to submit to joy. It comes clunkily. I look around, abashed. I don’t want to dance too excitedly, sing too loudly, joke too freely—extend myself too much. My joy could be another person’s lame, weird, gross, strange .   This is a lesson I, and almost all of us, have subconsciously learned from a young age. It is difficult to give into free, unabashed, wacky joy because we have been miseducated. As ‘childhood’ ended, and we began to learn math and writing in the classroom, on the playground we began to learn the rules of the game. We learned how to fit in, how to play it cool, how to not be the weird one, how to not give in to joy.   We were miseducated to cringe at the free expression of those kids, either without social sense or wise beyond their years, who did express themselves freely (“band kids” or “theater kids” maybe, guys who moved their bodies a little too much like girls). We cringed for them, already seeing the social consequences of their fr...