Concerts are one of the few communal experiences you can
share with strangers. What draws you to a concert could be a variety of things:
entertainment, exposure, a deep love of the music. But the shared magic of a
concert is indisputable. Even if you aren’t familiar with the music, the
pumping bass and frenetic energy of the crowd draws you in. If you aren’t a
fan, the experience can be transcendent. My first concert was my favorite band
in junior high, Duran Duran. My mother, who was pregnant at the time, took me
and tried to embarrass me by dancing and singing. I didn’t care. I was
transfixed with the fact that I was in the same room as Simon, Nick, John,
Andy, and Roger. Sure, it was a big room. But the moment was magical and turned
me on to a new type of community. The shared experience of coming together to
celebrate music, something that up until that point had been a more solitary
pursuit.
I took my daughter to her first concert when she was 12
years old. We went to see Halsey at House of Blues. She asked me if she could
go. I wasn’t familiar with Halsey, but I know how amazing concerts are and how
important those moments can be. So we went. I became a fan of Halsey that
night. My daughter cried and proudly wore her first concert shirt. I was so
proud of her for finding music that inspired her and moved her the way music
has always done for me. We quickly became a concert going duo. We traveled to
Dallas to attend the Jingle Ball and see One Direction. We saw people I’d never
heard of, and others I knew well. Looking forward to the next concert has become
one of our favorite things. It gives us an opportunity to bond together, just
the two of us.
Last night we went to see Halsey again. I couldn’t help but
think of Las Vegas and the horrible tragedy that befell other concert goers.
Concerts seem to be a target for destruction now. Which makes me terribly sad.
The concert going experience is a sacred one to me. The fact that others have
violated that worries me. Of course my mind wonders what I would do if a similar
event happened at a concert I attended with my daughter. Have I prepared her on
what to do in such an emergency? How would we manage a panicked crowed and
screaming bullets? Am I being a good parent in even taking her to a concert?
The last question gave me pause. I know there are parents
who want to shield and protect their children from such possible danger. And
that’s their right as a parent. But I refuse to teach my daughter to live in
fear. Yes, there is violence and chaos in the world. But staying home to avoid
it is not a healthy option. Depriving my daughter of a life experience because
madmen inhabit our world is a choice I will never make. Of course I want to
protect my child. Of course I would die if anything horrible were to happen to
her. Of course I will teach her how to be cautious and safe. Of course I will
not deprive her of life experiences because of a perceived threat of violence.
If I do that, the madmen win. And that must never happen.
These thoughts raced through my head last night as the
concert raged on. Yes, it took away some of that magic for me. But being a
parent requires sacrifice of light heartedness at times. My daughter danced and
sang until her voice became ragged. She talked absently about the other Halsey
concerts we’ve seen and how this one compared. She enjoyed herself. She was
happy. To me, that is magic.
