Music, Love And Manchester...

I was fourteen years old when I went to my first, proper pop concert.  I had seen live music before that, but never a group I had truly hero-worshipped.  911 - a typical 90s boyband, for those of you too young to remember - were my world.  I can still vividly recall walking into Birmingham NEC, seeing thousands of excited fans, smelling snack foods and body spray, buying an overpriced tour programme, just to stare lovingly at Lee Brennan's face before the show started and he'd actually be there, on stage...  So much of that night is forever imprinted on my memory.  It not only strengthened my adoration of a band who put on one heck of a show, but it kickstarted my enormous love of live music, which endures to this day.

I went with my eleven year old sister.  She wasn't even much of a 911 fan, but she'd gone along, just the same.  Two young girls, on an exciting night out without their parents.  

Mum and Dad dropped us off at the venue and promised they'd be waiting for us at the end.  I can still remember the lights coming up, music still ringing in my ears, my face all hot and sweaty.  I was so excited to tell my parents all about it and to thank them for the tickets.

On Monday night, a similar scene would have unfolded for thousands of young pop music fans.  Saying goodbye to their parents, who'd be dutifully picking them up later.  Rushing to find their seats.  Screaming, singing and losing themselves completely in the unbridled joy that live music can bring.

It should have ended just like my first pop concert; with excited stories on the way home.  Kids unable to sleep, because the songs were still swirling through their heads.

By now, we all know that the unthinkable happened, instead.

More than twenty people - over half of them children - lost their lives when a cowardly terrorist detonated a bomb as the concert-goers were leaving the arena in Manchester, causing a blast that also left more than 50 people with serious injuries.

It's unbearable.

It's unbearable, because these were the most innocent people in society - children, teenagers, families sharing an exciting night out, together.  

It's unbearable, because music brings us so much joy, which is in stark contrast with the pain, suffering and anger so many families must be experiencing in the wake of such a tragedy.

It's unbearable, because yet again, the need to place blame has led to Islamophobia, fear-mongering and hate.

And you can't kill hate with more of it.

What this horrendous individual (I won't type his name here; he does not deserve that dignity) did on Monday was not a religious act.  What this sick, twisted little perpetrator did was an extreme act of terror.  And ISIS, who have taken responsibility for this cowardice, want us to be fearful and to spread hatred towards innocent Muslims as a result.  Why?  Because that is how they indoctrinate "soldiers" to their pathetic "cause."

"Look how hated you are by these infidels," they whisper into the ears of naive and often very young men and women.  "It's time to teach them a lesson."

Don't give them what they want.

Don't look at a minority of violent losers and allow them to represent the whole of Islam.  There are 1.6 billion Muslims on this planet and the vast majority of them are decent people.

Like the Muslim taxi drivers, who were offering free lifts home to stranded concert-goers on Monday night.

Like the Muslim doctors and nurses, working around the clock, trying to save the lives of innocent victims caught up in the blast.

Like the Muslim Mancunians, attending the vigil for the dead, missing and injured, yesterday.

Each of those people shares your anger.  Your hurt.  Your heartbreak.  But unlike you, they also too often face the brunt of it from others, purely because these sickening attacks are carried out in the name of "Islam."

The anger we all feel at what happened on Monday is justifiable.  The fear we might experience as the UK's terror threat level is increased to "critical" is understandable.  The demand that terror cells are weeded out and that those who threaten us are properly punished is understandable, too.  I want that.  Every Muslim I've spoken to online, since the tragedy in Manchester took place, wants it, too.

It's important to direct our feelings to the right places.  If every single one of the 1.6 billion Muslims on this planet was a violent murderous terrorist, I would almost certainly not be alive to write this blog, right now.  1.6 billion people is an extraordinary army.  But the fact is, only a very minimal percentage of those people have been indoctrinated into the kind of extremism that promotes terror.  Our justifiable anger - hate, even - must be directed to that minority.

But, as I said earlier, you don't kill hate with hate.

It's love that is proving that terrorism will never win.

It's the people opening their houses to let those who were stranded after the bombing, find a place to stay.

It's the people comforting one another in the streets.

It's the strangers, offering money for taxis, hotels or food.

It's the people taking bottles of water and food to hospitals, so that the parents whose children have been critically injured, don't have to leave their bedsides.

Yesterday, someone I follow on Twitter commented that we have to let life continue, because anything else is cowing to terrorism.  Almost immediately, he had racists telling him he was "an Islamist snowflake," or that he was "dismissing the memory of those killed."

No.

By living, we cherish the memories of those lost.  

By playing the music they loved, by reminiscing over concerts we attended when we were young, we are celebrating the joy they felt, before their lives were so cruelly snuffed out.

By wrapping our arms around each other and supporting one another, we are showing that love is stronger than hate and always will be.  By refusing to smear innocent people, simply because they belong to a religion that has been taken and twisted to fit an extremist agenda, we show that we are better than the terrorists could ever hope to be.  And we show them that their ideals have no place in our world.  We condemn them not only with our words, but more importantly, with our actions and reactions.

Love will always outshine hate.  And it's fair to say that love and music have always been closely intertwined, in my life.  They always will be.  

And it's with love for those lost in my heart, that I will play my music a little louder, today.  Because terror can never take love away.

"Do You Hear The People Sing?"

There is little to be cheerful about, at the moment.

America has elected a fascist, who is already attempting to implement unconstitutional, racist policy, aimed at demonising a whole community of people.  Men, women and children are being detained at airports, threatened with the prospect of being returned to unsafe homelands.  And the despicable irony is that these people are not only refugees, but, in several cases, American citizens, who have peacefully lived and worked in the US for many years.  Oh, and just in case that's not enough to make you realise that this is a dangerous man for whom ethics and respect are just good Scrabble words, he's also blocked federal funding for any global health organisations that provide - or even discuss - abortion, leaving women with far fewer choices when dealing with a pregnancy that - for any number of reasons - they feel unable to continue with.  This could force women in developing countries into searching for unsafe methods to end their pregnancies, but hey, we're supposed to believe that this is apparently all for the best.  Because dear old President Trump cares deeply about the sanctity of human life.  

Unless you're a Syrian refugee...

Trump's government seems to be filled with white supremacists, misogynists and homophobes.  The "Land of The Free" has never seemed less so.

Here in the UK, we have a Prime Minister who seems barely able (perhaps unwilling?!) to criticise Donald Trump's blatant Islamophobia with any real conviction.  She is, instead, making ludicrous statements about their relationship, such as "opposites attract" and being encouraged by her Brexit-supporting ministers to ensure we make a deal with Trump, seeing as 52% of the UK decided we ought to be pulled out of the European Union and damnit, "Brexit means Brexit."

Oh, and over in Russia, they've decided to de-criminalise domestic violence.

We are living in a world in which it's not a good time to be a Muslim.  Or non-white.  Or a woman.  Or anything but heterosexual.

Things don't look good.  They don't feel good.  And it's okay to be upset, worried or scared about that.  In fact, I question you more than a little if you're not at all concerned.

But there is something to take comfort in.

People - not merely in twos or threes, but in their hundreds of thousands - are saying: "No."

Too often, we hear criticism of musicians, actors and other celebrities, for weighing in on political issues, but it is those people with platforms who are often able to shout the loudest.  And shout they have.

Whether in award acceptance speeches, at rallies or just on Twitter, famous people with enough clout to have their views heard have been saying: "No."

And it's not just celebrities.  The day after Trump's inauguration, millions took to the street in cities across the globe, as part of a march for women's rights, and indeed human rights.  In response to Trump's funding cuts for health organisations and the politicisation of women's reproductive rights (amongst other things, including the new President's blatant misogyny and alarming propensity to brag about sexual assault), millions said: "No."

Now, as officials at American airports detain refugees and citizens alike, based on only their countries of birth (or indeed, their religion), many thousands more people have turned up to loudly protest.  They are saying - they are screaming: "NO."

Todd Maisel/New York Daily News

There will be cynics reading this, who will sigh and shake their heads at the idea of finding hope through noisy Twitter accounts, or protesters who will, eventually, have to go back to their normal, everyday lives.  "What can they achieve?" Those cynics will ask.

Well, firstly, never underestimate people-power.  However much his ego may like to think it, Donald Trump is not America.  The people are.  No matter how little the cynics amongst you might think can be achieved by people all over the world raising their voices, history has shown many times that if you shout loud enough, eventually someone has to listen.  Now is not the time to sit silently on the sidelines.  Now is not the time for glib remarks about it not being our problem, or that it might not be as bad as we think, or that we can't really care about X, because we didn't protest Y.  

Where you see injustice, or inequality, it must be called out.  Anywhere and everywhere.

Only by uniting to speak out against fascism do we ever stand a hope of really challenging it.  Individually, some guy on Twitter may not have much power.  But, combined with thousands of others - writers, politicians, people with platforms that allow the message to travel further - that power becomes immeasurable.

It's also vital to remember that, in a world that now feels isolated to many, purely because of their ethnicity, religion, sexuality or gender, the significance of voices raised in solidarity is enormous.  People whose rights are being systematically removed from them should always have support and to see it being given, via protests, petitions and yes, angry tweets, is a ray of light in a steadily darkening world.

Picture taken from Liberation News.

There is not a lot to be cheerful about, currently.

But as long as people continue to raise their voices against the rising threat of fascism, and as long as their words lead to actions, then there is still some hope to be found.  And I will cling to that hope, because, I too believe that, deep down, people are good.

And if we continue to work together and support one another, now and in the future, goodness will prevail.  However long it takes.  I have to believe that, because the alternative is unthinkable.

So, keep marching, keep tweeting, keep refusing to be quiet and accept the status quo.  Keep speaking up and defending those who need it now more than ever.  

However, you choose to speak out or act against the problems you're seeing, just keep going.  You never know whose life you're bringing hope to, when you do.