Lessons From Lady Gaga

I missed writing last Sunday, because I met up with a friend in Seattle for the weekend to see Lady Gaga in concert. And let me tell you—it was fabulous. The music, the costumes, the energy. And…the audience. They were a show in themselves!

Everywhere I looked, I saw people of all ages, races, genders, and life stories. Sequins next to hoodies, cowboy hats next to neon wigs. Some folks looked like they had spent weeks planning their outfits, others like they rolled in straight from the grocery store. And no one cared. There was no judgment, only celebration. For one night, thousands of people gathered in one space to be fully themselves and to let others do the same.

It struck me: this is what inclusivity looks like. Not tolerance. Not silent endurance. But joyful, wholehearted acceptance.

And here’s the kicker—if a pop concert can pull that off for a few hours, why do we struggle to extend the same spirit to people in our communities, especially those who need it most?

From Sequins to Second Chances

This week I also had a fist-pump moment over a statute passed in my home state of Texas. The new bill is designed to protect sex trafficking victims from being prosecuted for crimes they were forced to commit. (For those who want to read about it, here’s a link: Texas Tribune article).

The bill is long overdue. Survivors of trafficking are often punished instead of protected, treated as criminals instead of victims. Groups like the Lone Star Justice Alliance (LSJA), with whom I consult, have been pushing for reforms like this for years. It’s one step toward ensuring that second chances aren’t just a slogan but a reality for people who’ve lived through circumstances most of us can barely imagine.

But here’s the bigger lesson: if we can recognize the humanity of trafficking survivors, we can extend that recognition to all people impacted by the justice system. To those who made mistakes. To those who served their time. To those who are just beginning to piece their lives back together.

Second chances are rooted in the same soil as kindness and acceptance.

The Real Cost of Unkindness

Being kind costs nothing. Not one dime. Not one minute of your life you’ll regret. But being unkind—judging, excluding, punishing endlessly—comes at a staggering cost. It costs families stability. It costs communities trust. It costs our society the contributions of people who could otherwise thrive.

What I saw at Lady Gaga’s concert was a living, glittery example of what it means to create space where everyone belongs. What I read in the news this week was a reminder of how urgently we need to create that same kind of space for justice-involved people.

Because here’s the truth: a sequined jacket, a criminal record, a scar from trauma—none of these should be the reason we decide someone doesn’t belong.

A Call to Action

So, here’s my challenge to all of us this week: channel your inner Gaga. Be kinder than necessary. Open the door a little wider. Offer grace, even when it feels easier to judge.

Imagine what our classrooms, our workplaces, our communities would look like if we practiced the same inclusivity I saw in that stadium. If we built systems and cultures that gave second chances as freely as the crowd gave applause.

It costs nothing to be kind. But unkindness? That bill comes due every single day—and we all pay it.

Cheers til next Sunday! ☕

Amy