It was Wednesday at 9:53 p.m. local time when we learned that a concert experience years in the making had evaporated. As social media began to flood with news of the cancellation of three consecutive “Eras” tour concerts in Vienna, due to terrorist threats, I glanced at my two children and husband, who were settling into our hotel room, thousands of miles away from home, and began to plot our next steps.
Since misinformation is real, I turned to one of my best sources of facts on the matter at hand—a group chat of over 100 physician moms who, like me, had negotiated work schedules, spent months refreshing European ticket sites, joined Discord groups, and set alerts to find cheap airfares and hotels. We’d done all with the intention of fulfilling a dream for our kids to see Taylor Swift perform over three hours and countless costume changes, having been unable or unwilling to fork over four-figure sums for resale tickets in the United States.
Our chat group and my family quickly had to accept that the cancellation was, indeed, real, with the news reported in many credible outlets. My 7-year-old daughter was still awake and had unpacked her concert attire: sequins head to toe along with the prerequisite face and hair glitter cosmetics. I quietly texted my husband, and then we told both our children that the concert might be canceled. They, too, asked for verification from more reliable sources than their parents. Our children are used to COVID precautions, school shooting drills, and, let’s face it, extreme disappointment due to malicious behavior out there in the world. But Taylor Swift and the “Eras” tour were supposed to be exempt from reality—the concerts a Shangri-La where strangers exchange bracelets, hug, cry, and all celebrate a world where, for one night, the harsh realities ended at the security checkpoint to enter the stadium.
After we dealt with the denial that Taylor Swift could cancel any concert, the acceptance and depression set in. We were hurtling through the stages of grief, a concept in psychology that is by no means a hard-and-fast descriptor of everyone’s experience but can still provide a helpful framework when thinking through loss. There were tears all around. The group chat vibrated with queries wondering how to break the news to children still in flight or asleep. Stories surfaced of all the lengths people including myself had gone to obtain tickets in the first place. In my case, after months of trying to purchase through official sites for concerts tickets closer to home, I turned to a loathsome frenemy, StubHub. My first purchase of tickets to a show in Vienna was a fraudulent one—the transaction taking place in pesos should have been a tipoff, but StubHub is foolproof right? Twenty hours of desperate calls and emails to customer support later, I obtained a refund. I tried again to get tickets, with ultimate success: valid tickets to a show in Vienna, purchased directly. The satisfaction of having tickets to see the “Eras” tour, in an app, with our names on them, felt better than getting my medical school diploma.
Thursday morning, the day of the first scheduled concert, was a hazy combination of jet lag, disappointment, and a clear expression of the stage of grief known as bargaining: “Do we think Taylor will do more dates? Will we get refunds? How can we find tickets to London next week?”
What transpired over the next hours was unexpected but also a familiar notion in psychology called collective grief. Collective grief is experienced when a community or group of individuals undergoes a shared loss or significant change, such as during natural disasters, wars, or other tragedies that affect a large number of people. While mourning the loss of a concert is indeed a privilege that is in most ways incongruous to other tragedies, the impact of Taylor Swift on the public’s psyche is both genuine and measurable—not only through the billions in revenue but also in the extraordinary efforts people, including myself, made to catch the blockbuster tour, to experience the magic of the music and glittery fanfare live for a few hours.
In the context of collective grief, individuals often find comfort and support in one another, as the shared experience fosters a sense of unity and empathy. For fans such as myself and my kids, mourning the loss of a Taylor Swift concert experience, communal expressions of disappointment, and shared online activities can play a significant role in coping with the letdown. By coming together on social media, forums, and fan groups, individuals can reinforce their connection with other Swifties and collectively express their regret, ultimately finding solace in the knowledge that they are not alone in their disappointment. These collective activities help strengthen community bonds and offer a shared space for fans to express their feelings of loss. This communal aspect of grieving can alleviate feelings of isolation, as people connect with others who are experiencing similar emotions. Public mourning and community actions play a crucial role in the healing process by reinforcing community bonds and providing a collective platform for expressing grief.
Facebook groups organized by other “Swiftie Moms,” as we are called, mobilized in the wee hours of the Vienna night (daytime in the U.S.) to try and source other tickets for future events such as London or Toronto, some people even sacrificing their own tickets if they have previously seen the tour. Hotels across Vienna placed letters under doors offering viewing parties, bracelet exchanges, and tours to a local Swarovski store with a Taylor Swift exhibit.
Our family tried to make the best of the situation and explore the sights of the city. We eventually encountered fellow Swifties congregated in the town center and on Corneliusgasse, a street in Vienna that shares a name with Swift’s song “Cornelia Street.” Hundreds upon hundreds of Swifties started spontaneous singing rallies, exchanging bracelets and hugging one another out of shared grief and relief that even terrorist plots could not break our spirit.
J.D. Vance Used to Be an Atheist. What He Believes Now Is Telling.
The Right Has Settled On Its Most Potent Attack Against Tim Walz. It Won’t Work.
I Got “The J.D. Vance” Eye-Makeup Look, and Learned a Few Other Things About His Face
We Were Supposed to See Taylor Swift in Vienna. We Learned a Surprising Lesson About Human Nature Instead.
Simultaneously, major news outlets started reporting on more suspects arrested, proof of explosive materials and plans for casualties outside of the Ernst Happel Stadium in Austria. At this point, we had moved beyond mere acceptance, feeling immense gratitude for our safety and the international security efforts that averted a potential global catastrophe. We found ourselves in the elegant hotel ballrooms in the city center, where Austrians welcomed us with open arms. Champagne flowed for the adults, while kids enjoyed mocktails as they crafted bracelets and watched the Eras Tour movie on a big screen. We cried, sang, hugged, and created unforgettable memories.
I might risk losing some readers by admitting that I wasn’t initially as fervent a Swift fan as many of my friends and family. My primary goal was to fulfill my 7-year-old daughter’s dream. However, after this entire experience, I’ve become a die-hard fan of the Swiftie spirit—and the power of community and collective grief. If we ever manage to see the tour in person, I will not worry about my placement near the diamond of the stage or ability to get as close to the front as possible. I’ll happily take in the show from the nosebleed seats, surrounded by joy. I will just hope we are safe, together, and can sing “Long Live” together, which will hold a special meaning.
Source link : https://slate.com/life/2024/08/taylor-swift-vienna-terrorist-threat-eras-tour-europe.html
Author :
Publish date : 2024-08-09 07:36:00
Copyright for syndicated content belongs to the linked Source.
