Beyond jammin’: Summer music festivals offer perspective, growth

Personal confessions in teepees, hippies begging me to register as a voter and free hula hoops hanging from trees — just a few of my favorite things about Electric Forest Festival.

These seemingly unrelated, quirky components of my summer music festival experience made no sense to my family. From the get-go it was clear that they didn’t understand why I’d want to spend four days in the small town of Rothbury, Michigan under the hot sun, with the four thin walls of my tent as the only refuge from dastardly loud bass music and whackadoodle hippies.

So naturally, there was a checklist of peculiar pieces of advice with which my family bid me farewell.

“Have fun at Partyland,” my grandmother laughed, the skin around the corners of her eyes gathering like thick linen.

“Don’t get arrested,” my mother jokingly warned with one eyebrow raised in genuine concern and the other at rest with assurance that I’m responsible enough.

And lastly, there was, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” from my dad.

The common mantra underlying my family’s goodbyes? Partying. There’s an all-too-prevalent assumption that summer music festivals are just a place to screw around, listen to questionable electronic music and jam bands and try drugs with funny names.

In reality, though, music festivals are an unparalleled growing opportunity — personally and even spiritually. From political activism, to acts of generosity and kindness, my summer festival experience changed my life in an insurmountable way — and so can yours.

At a festival, some of the most rewarding experiences awaiting your discovery happen outside the direct realm of music. At Electric Forest, HeadCount — a non-partisan organization that works with musicians to promote participation in democracy — had a tent devoted to registering new voters.The volunteers working the tent had great passion — they didn’t simply hold up a black and white form and beg you to vote, they asked if you were registered and explained the role of citizens in a colorful way.

When I told one of the representatives I was already a registered Democrat, he responded with, “Rock on!” and proceeded to shake my hand. Not to mention, he gave me a lollipop — can’t go wrong there.

And while I don’t condone violence, it’s pretty memorable that someone punched a guy who was carrying a Confederate flag around the venue. Festival-goers’ political stance for the weekend is simple — treat everyone equally. Clearly, a symbol for racism wouldn’t be tolerated — music festivals are about positivity.

Outside of political ventures, multi-day camping festivals also teach you heaps about friendship — specifically how not to kill your friends even if you really want to by the fourth day. Of course, the idea of camping and going to shows with your friends seems perfect in your mind, but once you actually hit the grass, you realize just how difficult it can become to live around someone for that long.

There will be fights — lots of them. Whether it’s “who ate my hotdog?” or “you snore like a damn bear” or “you were never my friend, all you care about is yourself,” prompted by someone scrambling their brain under the hot sun — you can count on testing your relationships. Why? Setting up tents sucks, stormy weather is endlessly irritating, you get hungry, you get burnt and true colors show. But by the end of the weekend, most of the blood, sweat and tears will have dried and you’ll be closer to your friends for sticking it out — or you’ll realize that person was never really a friend.

It’s not just your pre-established friends you’ll become closer to, though — growing alongside others is a staple of the festival experience. At Electric Forest, my favorite way to bond with new people was through The Giving Tree, an old whomping-willow-esque plant.

Protected from the sun under its leafy canopy, forest-goers carefully placed homemade knick-knacks, jewelry, buttons, snacks, hula hoops and messages in the crannies of the trunk. You could observe a number of fluorescent-clad people climbing the tree at any moment, searching for the perfect place to leave their wares. After, they’d inspect others’ gifts and take the one they liked best. Electric Forest had its own Secret Santa — and you never knew what you might get.

Trading wasn’t the only way to meet new people, though. Throughout the forest, installation art and quirky structures awaited the adventurous. The best way to meet others is by poking your head into any of the little buildings on the grounds. My friends and I happened upon a quaint teepee and rested in its shade for a while.

Seemingly out of the blue, a pixie-like woman popped in through the front flap. Smoothing down her short, black bob-cut, she explained to us that she had built the teepee herself as a safe place for others. She wanted people to feel that they could escape the busy forest if they felt overwhelmed. It was a place to rest and meet new friends.

Then, she told us how comfortable she felt around us. “This is the best part about the forest — the people.” She could trust us. So, naturally she burst into tears and took her wig off. We were flabbergasted not by her baldness, but by her authenticity and courage.

So, when I see articles like the Onion’s “New Music Festival Just Large Empty Field To Do Drugs In,” I’m a little peeved. Sure, some people think it’s cool to pay hundreds of dollars to get hammered and pass out in the grass for a few hours. But most festival-goers just want a place to express themselves and enjoy a once-in-a-lifetime experience — so go, keep your zeal.

And if your parents or grandparents raise their brows at you, let them. It’s only because they know what it once was to be young.

So in any case, I say “Party on, Wayne.”

Courtney Linder is the Opinions Editor of The Pitt News and primarily writes on technology and social issues.

Write to Courtney at cnl13@pitt.edu.