Pop and protest in public
Every year I make New Year’s resolutions, write them on a piece of paper and store them in a safe place. Then, at the end of the year, I ask everyone around me if they can remember the safe place I stored them, because I’ve forgotten where that was.
It’s a beautiful tradition that each year makes me reflect on how I should be more careful with my stuff. This year, I’m writing my resolutions and putting them in the safest place I can think of, the print media, which will never die out and will live on forever.
There are two types of public events I love attending.
The first is a concert where I have a seat (a concert where I have to stand is on my list of public events I will die before I go to). The second is a protest. I have never been to a concert (where I have a seat) or a protest at which I have not cried happy tears. There is something overwhelmingly sentimental about these two events. It’s like being present at the birth of a child if that child was a collective consciousness and half of that collective consciousness was high, and maybe some of that collective consciousness just got born because they’re friends were doing it and they didn’t want to be left out. This is not a perfect metaphor.
Regardless, it’s a bunch of people all together in one space, unified by one goal. It’s the kind of feeling I imagine religious people must get in church, instead of the antagonism it usually brings out in me. From a very young age I was attending protests. I remember being one among many at a silent protest of Israeli occupation of Palestine when I was 10 years old. I felt so important, wise, just, and purposeful, and I remember clearly when a reporter asked me why someone so young was there, I responded with pride, ‘‘because my mum made me’’.
Throughout the years I’ve attended protests, many of which I’ve since changed my mind about, and I’ve experienced what it’s like to be accountable for your opinion in public. Conviction isn’t something that can be practised privately. It’s why I bought a Coldplay T-shirt at their concert – I will not be shamed into silence.
There is a lot going on in the world right now. There’s always been a lot happening, but at the moment it feels more urgent. It feels like it’s getting worse, not better, while the opposite is happening to concerts. So this year I’ve made it my resolution to attend more concerts (where I have a seat) and attend more protests.
To realise these resolutions, I’m going to the ‘‘Women’s March on Washington – Auckland’’ on January 21, and I’m seeing Justin Bieber on March 18. I’d urge you all to do the same, though I feel stronger about the former than I do the latter. It may even be possible that attendance to these two events in particular is a nil sum gain, but I’m not perfect.
The Women’s March on Washington – Auckland, or as it will be known by critics ‘‘liberal snowflakes shed tears over PC culture gone mad, also the best show on TV is NCIS’’ march is about people showing support for the idea that women and men are equal and the legal rights that make that can make that statement true, should be protected and encouraged. It’s timed with Trump’s inauguration, because that event feels like a direct threat to this sentiment.
I know the United States is not New Zealand and we don’t share all the same problems, but we are not immune. Especially with a Minster for Women who can only be a feminist on the days that she has time, and a Prime Minster who either truly doesn’t know what feminism is or, even worse, is shrewd enough to claim ignorance and apathy as a political move.
The Justin Bieber concert, on the other hand, is about not being able to turn away from a car crash. I will enjoy both equally.