Finally out of the queue, we walked in and looked around. There were a lot of young faces.
Dublin’s 3 Arena was buzzing last Saturday night ahead of the Ariana Grande concert.
We made our way to the left side of the stadium and stayed to the back to try to get space from the giddy crowd.
We were just in front of where the parents were standing, watching their kids from a short distance, and that suited us fine. As a group in our early to mid-20s, I’d be confident in saying that we were some of the oldest fans in attendance.
Nonetheless, we had a great night and were among the minority there who headed on to town afterwards – we passed crowds of tweens, teens, and even little girls, swamped in adult-sized souvenir t-shirts, holding their parents’ hands as they queued for the Luas. It reminded me of going to teenage discos at City Hall in Cork when I was 14 or 15 – you’d feel every bit the grown-up, only to be met by your dad at the front door at the end of the night.
We got a few bemused stares as we left the venue and walked down the road, arms linked and belting out Dangerous Woman – not many concert goers that night had had anything to drink, I guess.
The world awoke this morning to news of the horrific attack at the Ariana Grande concert in Manchester.
It’s been confirmed that girls as young as 8 were among those killed there. The young faces on news sites today chime with the ones I saw in Dublin on Saturday.
It’s sad but true that attacks like this aren’t surprising anymore. What was surprising about this one, though, was its deeply cynical nature.
The particular concert that was targeted last night speaks volumes.
I’d like to believe it was a fluke, but I doubt it. We’ve seen attacks at major public events in recent years, but this was different – the person or people behind this attack went after children and teenagers. They went after innocence.
A concert is a major rite of passage. The artists you follow in your formative years help to mould your identity and they mean a lot to you – there’s a reason I dressed as Lady Gaga for one of my teenage birthday parties and spouted facts about Amy Winehouse to anyone who’d listen.
Going to see your favourite band or singer is another milestone to let you know you’re getting older, and the dizziness you feel at hearing the first note as they step on onto the stage is something that’ll stay with you forever.
Despite her seductive image and risqué lyrics, Ariana’s fanbase is predominately young and female. The crowd in Dublin was a sea of highlighter and sparkly face-paint, long hair, short skirts and high spirits.
It sickens me to think of that same crowd of young girls in Manchester, who planned outfits for days and listened to Ariana playlists all week, running for their lives last night.
There will be plenty of statements and speeches today and all this week made by officials and politicians.
They’ll tell the people of the UK to remain calm and keep going about life as normal, and they’ll tell the people of the world that terror won’t win.
I’d like to tell the all the girls who learned this morning that people just like them were specifically targeted in a terror attack to keep going too.
Keep putting glitter on your face, keep singing to Ariana in front of your mirror, and most of all keep arguing with your parents to let you go to concerts and parties.
Stuff like this shouldn’t affect you, so don’t let it. The darker things get, the more light we need.
