By Christina Calloway
I cried at least three times at Beyonce and Jay-Z’s concert and I checked to make sure the tears were real and not just dripping sweat, an effect of Houston’s humidity.
Call me corny, call me ridiculous, but the concert got the best of me. The moment they walked out in all their glory, I lost it. I sang along throughout the concert, voice still recovering, because it wasn’t just a show, it was an interactive experience.
The show had a story line that was so well put together. Despite the thousands of other fans there, the couple’s performance felt so personal and you can see how in love they are.
Jay-Z told us to follow our dreams, like no dream was too big. Considering the millions he’s made since living a rough life in Brooklyn’s Marcy housing projects, I didn’t feel the message was disingenuous. It was like he was feeding off the energy we were giving him and wanted to relay that message.
The concert was re-energizing but the trip back to the city in which my alma mater is located added to that message of moving forward with my life.
Although I experienced nostalgic college feelings driving on old freeways and smelling the spice of Cajun food, Houston was different, my school was different.
Few things are as they were when you left them, but as I journey on through adulthood, my goal is to make things better than when I came to it and then I’m off to conquer the next adventure.
Christina Calloway is a senior writer.