Yes, they’re dangerous but don’t ban fireworks

I’m sorry, but I really like fireworks. I understand they can be dangerous. I’ve heard your complaints about being kept awake at night. And I also know neighbourhood cats and dogs don’t like the loud bangs. I’m a heartless weasel. I know most of you hate them, but I’m here to say fireworks should stay.

Despite the obvious and much-publicised risks fireworks can bring, my mind is unchanged.

Used badly, fireworks can cause devastating fires. But they’re also fun. For all those claimed sleepless nights, I’m sure even the most avid firework haters have also shared in the fun.

Fireworks bring people together, and alight they can spark the imagination.

We will all have fond memories of fireworks, I’m sure. For me, they represent some precious moments of pure jubilation.

I remember a night spent with my granddad in the backyard, as we sent a box of fireworks rattling into the sky. I remember buying a box as my high school career came to its end, and we lit fireworks in a park to celebrate.

Fireworks make you think. As a kid who failed even the most the basic science classes, I have fireworks to thank for most of my chemistry knowledge. After spending New Year’s Eve with my family on the Picton foreshore, watching fireworks blast in the new year, I wasted a decent amount of the summer holiday watching videos and reading about how fireworks are made.

As a side note, they seem fairly easy to make. But my mum wouldn’t source gunpowder for me, so I never got to give it a go.

The bright lights in the sky also have a certain romanticism, or at least mysticism, about them.

Fireworks communicate across cultures, no doubt inviting many non-Chinese New Zealanders to learn about the Lunar New Year and enjoy those increasingly popular festivities. Care about politics? We have Guy Fawkes day to remember a bit of British political history.

And would we even have rom-coms, were it not for the firework? The fireworks kiss scene is as iconic as ‘‘Jack, I’m flying!’’ in Titanic. Spend New Year’s Eve at any music festival, and you bet people try to recreate it.

I hear you. You’re asking how I could possibly be so selfish.

Why should my happiness be put above that of your child’s ability to sleep through the night, or the happiness of your suburb-dwelling horses?

Perhaps I am a little biased. If it wasn’t for fireworks, I wouldn’t have met my current partner.

We got talking, first, while letting off fireworks at an end-of-school party – but she, crazily, claimed to dislike fireworks. We met again at a Guy Fawkes get-together, which means I must have successfully convinced her fireworks are awesome.

The point I’m trying to make here is, for all the concerns that fireworks carry, we know they are also great (although risky) fun for young and old.

But, as with everything fun and risky these days, as soon as something goes wrong we are forced to ban it. Why can’t we take some personal responsibility? A spate of fires fuelled the latest calls to make fireworks illegal. A remarkably hot and dry Tuesday, coupled with the ‘‘6 o’clock swill’’ mentality of having fireworks on sale for just a few days a year, saw fires break out across the country. This should never have happened.

Although mistakes were made and stupidity prevailed, we do not need to punish everyone.

It’s easy for the crusty and boring to sit at home, probably envious at all the fun that’s being had, and say ‘‘ban it’’.

That’s what they said about Lime scooters. That’s what they said about the marvellous tradition of end-of-year school pranks.

Yes, things go wrong. Life is full of risk.

But we can’t remove every risk and live dull and boring lives. Part of living is learning. It’s learning what risks to take and how to manage risks we choose to push ahead with. If things go wrong, it’s important, as well, that we deal with those consequences.

While I support fireworks’ availability, I agree with strong regulations. We shouldn’t be selling fireworks capable of causing true havoc. As well, improper use of fireworks – or e-scooters, or bad pranking – should be met with consequences. But let’s keep this all in perspective.

The calls to outlaw fun are coming from people who have already had their fun.

They’re coming from the leafy suburbs, from those who watch The Chase to get their daily dose of entertainment. Outside, there’s still fun to be had and hard lessons to be learnt.

Let’s not take lifelong memories away from everyone, just because something could go wrong.

For me, they represent some precious moments of pure jubilation.