Taylor Swift’s Concert Accessibility Nightmare: My Story
Before I could even form sentences, I was singing the words of “Our Song” by Taylor Swift. I was four years old when I stood atop a table at a party to belt out all the lyrics of “Love Story.” The first album I fell in love with was Fearless, and I remember replaying the music video of “You Belong With Me” over and over again, wondering how he could possibly choose the brunette girl. Every album after Fearless I was there, waiting patiently, on release day.
At eleven years old, I was diagnosed with a hereditary, progressive neuromuscular disease called Friedreich’s ataxia (FA); there is no cure and, at that time, no way to stop the progression. The silence in the room was piercing as the doctor looked at me with pity in her eyes, carefully explaining to me that my ability to walk would be taken from me. Friedreich’s ataxia affects everything in your body: the ability to walk, fatigue, speech, reflexes, hand control, and so much more.
Over time I was able to understand the importance of having an outlet for my daily life; I often read or listen to Taylor Swift. I always compare the songs by Taylor Swift to works of literature because of her phenomenal storytelling abilities. Her songs aren’t just songs; she creates intricate storylines through her lyrics and has perfected the art of alluding to alternative meanings. Listening to one of her songs and opening a book provides me with a similar experience: the ability to escape reality. Being able to escape reality, even if it's just for a few moments, has become crucial to my experience living with a chronic condition.
During my senior year of high school, Taylor Swift announced her Eras Tour on Good Morning America, and tickets were set to release later that month. I didn’t even know if I was capable of going, but I knew that I needed to be a part of this journey re-exploring her albums. In my state of New Jersey, she was playing three nights at MetLife Stadium, which was a perfect sign that I needed to go. My parents got in touch with the stadium to ask about the accessibility, considering I was in a wheelchair. They assured us that I would be moved to an accessible space once I secured any ticket.
After being lucky enough to receive a presale code, I started to feel hopeful that my experience getting tickets would not be horrendous. I even stayed home from school and woke up early that day to make securing tickets easier. I believe it was about 9:00 a.m. when I was able to join the “waiting room” on Ticketmaster, and thirty minutes later I joined a queue with 2,000+ people in front of me. It was finally my turn at 11:00 a.m., and it was an absolute nightmare.
Due to Friedreich’s ataxia, my hand control is limited, making it harder to find a seat and purchase the tickets. However, I didn’t even get that far because as soon as I specified my accessibility needs, the website would kick me out. I had to wait in line all over, just to be kicked out again and again. This led to a lot of tears.
I refused to give up, though, and I kept trying and trying; I kept in mind what they told me at MetLife Stadium and desperately fished for any ticket available. After hours of trying, I was able to secure two tickets behind the stage and down many steps. A day later, we called MetLife Stadium like they advised, and we were told that they could not move my seat. I had no idea what to do—I could not go down the stairs.
At this point, everyone in my family was determined to get me to that concert. My dad was calling old family friends, and my aunts were calling just about everyone they knew. My aunt finally got through to her friend, who said that she could get us moved the day of. This led to seven months of anxiously waiting to find out what would happen.
May 27, 2024 was the greatly anticipated day of the concert. I went with my sister, who dressed as Swift’s Lover era, while I dressed as her Fearless era. We nervously waited in the parking lot for hours until we were allowed in. We went straight to guest services to explain our situation, and they told us that we were unable to be moved.
We spent a while justifying our situation to different staff and explaining that I could not go downstairs. After a while of talking,, we finally struck gold with one staff member and were able to be moved to an accessible area. Admittedly, the entire experience was horrific, but the concert was the best night of my life!
Cover Photo by Axel Sorin.