Thousands of party-goers came together last weekend in Grant Park to attend Chicago’s largest annual music festival, Lollapalooza. Through stifling heat, people hopped from stage to stage with their fellow music fanatics, banding together to avoid dehydration with water bottles in hand. And if you have asthma like I do, I hope you were sure to bring your inhaler—you’d need it. Between the secondhand smoke and heat, you didn’t want to have an asthma attack or faint as you rushed to see Tyler, the Creator’s 5:45 p.m. show at Palladia Stage.

Of course, my experiences are singular—not everyone has asthma, not everyone loves FKA Twigs, not everyone avoids the Port-O-Potties at all costs. But as a somewhat typical suburban teenager, I think my Lollapalooza experience probably resembles that of most of my peers. It was fun: I had a good time with my best friends. I got to watch and listen to a few of my favorite artists perform live. I had a chance to enjoy the outdoor splendor of Chicago with thousands of other strangers. It’s a unifying experience, really. Every person comes for the same reason, and within that reason, you know you have at least one thing in common with the person pushing you against the barricade. That’s why I love it.

When I went to watch Sam Smith perform, I could count at least ten people within my line of sight sobbing over his soulful melodies. These people were actually crying, and whether or not they knew it, they were crying together. Honestly, I wouldn’t brand myself a Sam Smith super fan, but his rendition of Amy Winehouse’s “Tears Dry On Their Own” touched even my heart.

And during Travi$ Scott’s short yet exhilarating set, the lively outrage enacted by his fans demanding that he come back out to perform after his arrest was above all entertaining. My friend and I waited through two other sets to see Scott’s performance, and when we found out he wouldn’t be performing after all, we joined in on the chanting as well. But we weren’t angry—maybe slightly disappointed, but not angry at all. We just wanted to take part in our surrounding community; we wanted to be one with our fellow Perry-goers.

My favorite thing about Lollapalooza is the overarching sense of togetherness you feel, even when the rude guy next to you is bumping into you on purpose. It doesn’t matter that someone is trying to elbow their way in front of you, because you’re both there to see the same person, hear the same music.

So briefly, this was my Lolla experience: A dehydrated boy fainted on me, I screamed my voice away, a crowd surfer was dropped on my head, I accidentally danced with people I know from school, I had a panic attack, but most importantly I had fun. Lollapalooza was a weekend of solidarity among thousands, and nowhere else can I find a home among so many strangers. It was a good time to be had by everyone, together, simultaneously. No matter your background or musical preferences, there was something for you there to enjoy. It’s an inclusive encounter with so many both like and unlike you. And that is why I go. That is why we go.

By Nurah Lambert                                                                                                              Entertainment Editor