It’s over-hyped. Or maybe I think that because I tend to confuse the way things should be and the way they are. What I really mean is that we should each live every week like it’s Burning Man. We should avoid money and cell service; only engage in voluntary & self-directed labor; make art everywhere; make friends with everyone; and practice generosity & spontaneity.
The amount of labor and love and money and supplies that go into making it work is mind-boggling. People build the most welcoming city imaginable in the most unwelcoming landscape imaginable. And then it all gets burned down and most people go back to normal life.
Unsurprisingly, Burning Man is possible because of the privilege of it’s mostly rich and white participants. It’s the most heavily policed place on the planet while it happens, with more than 1000 plainclothes cops hanging out, and yet very few of the many drug users are imprisoned. And my male privilege let me walk freely around at all hours and make friends with anyone without fear for my safety.
We should all be wearing less clothes and more costumes because everyone is beautiful. I, for one, plan to use more glitter in my everyday life.
Law School is not useful preparation for the event.
There are still many obnoxious people around, but it’s easier to avoid them. At our bar, we could just tell people to leave. Often though, my first impression about who I needed to avoid was wrong and the people who looked like they would be The Worst were actually lovely people to talk with.
Most people like being challenged. At our bar, we didn’t just give away free beer. We had a reputation for rudeness to uphold. So I made patrons teach me something. Almost everyone struggled to think of something, perhaps because of the surprise. And honestly I didn’t really learn that much, and most of it I’ve forgotten. But that question led to hundreds of interesting conversations and deep connections. Connections that were more meaningful than a standard customer/server relationship because there was no money at stake; I wasn’t hustling for a tip so my interest was always authentic. And patrons loved that I thought they had something interesting to teach me.
Just going to the event is boring. Participation in the collective project is what makes things interesting.
(The author with his two best friends from kindergarten who all happened to be in the same ridiculous place at the same time and managed to meet up without access to texting or email. It was Tutu Tuesday, which the author was underprepared for.)
(Tenting was a bad idea, next time ice fishing huts and a real shade structure and maybe a/c.)
(Your author, hanging out the window of a LED lit hotel facade at some ungodly hour of the morning.)
(The bar; no eggs are served.)
(The bar at breakfast, with just us from camp).
(The author helped mount those bunny ears in anticipation of the Million Bunny March.)
