An unforgettable evening: I went to see Hair in the West End with my London Theater class. I had never seen the show before and was surprised by two things (SPOILERS AHEAD): 1. The entire cast gets naked at the end of act two and 2. The entire audience is invited onstage at the end of the show for communal dancing, singing, and metaphorical love-making.

It was the latter that made my night. Alisa, who had already seen the show, ate an ice cream at intermission to boost her energy for the dancing she knew would soon take place. I told myself that I wouldn’t join in, that after the curtain call, I would remain firmly rooted in my seat while watching the others wiggle wildly under the hot lights. But then the actors took their bows, the music struck up once again, and suddenly I was jumping over the seats in front of me and following Alisa onto the stage. I became a hoop of flames as I let the adrenaline course through me. “Let the sun shine, let the sun shine in,” we all sang, swaying our arms overhead in an utter cliche of concert-going activity. Invisible lighters waving above heads flung back with abandon, a pervading feeling of unity, of peace and love and happiness and all that hippie mumbo jumbo…But in that moment, I didn’t care that we were fulfilling a cheesy, much-maligned stereotype. I just let go and hopped around among many smiling strangers.

To some, we may have looked like fools, but we were the ones who found freedom.