I Just Watched Beyoncé Perform a 3-Hour Concert in the Pouring Rain and I Don’t Think I’ll Ever Be the Same

This week, I had the great pleasure of attending Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter tour for her fourth performance at MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey (technically her “New York” tour stop). As I prepped to schlep my elder millennial keister across the Hudson via public transit, I…was worried. Would Beyoncé deliver? I had no doubt. Would she and I get soaking wet in the process? The severe rain outside my window made me think it inevitable.

My journey to Jerz included a departure from New York’s famed (and in-desperate-need-of-a-gut-reno) Penn Station. In case there were any question of “who run the world,” it became clear by the throngs of denim-clad and cowboy hat-donning fans clamoring to catch the next train that the answer is, indeed, Beyoncé (and girls, obvi).

As expected, I arrived to the stadium in the rain along with thousands and thousands of others who now had the good fortune of hiding their chic fringe and denim beneath dollar store ponchos. (I personally wore a fringe crop jacket, a denim button-down and a disco ball cowboy hat. Though the only thing people saw during my long wait to get through security was a man in a giant, rain-soaked trash bag with a disco ball hat on top of his plastic hood.)

Beyhive and non-Beyhive, let me tell you: Beyoncé and the Cowboy Carter concert are incredible. It is a spectacle in the best way possible. So full of joy. So full of power. So full of history.

In fact, I received a history lesson standing there in MetLife, through her music and through her video interludes that took us through Black artists’ massive contributions to the creation of country—and the creation of our country. Queen Bey paid tribute to and followed in the footsteps of those who came before her. And this generational theme was only furthered by the onstage presence of her two daughters, Blue Ivy and Rumi.

There was Americana abound. Flags everywhere. Homages to our nation everywhere. Beyoncé even sang the National Anthem at one point (it was hard not to remember how she started a press conference with the song back in 2013).

This was paired with clips of “newscasters” hating on her for trying to “enter” the country music space (obviously they never did a simple Google search on the history of country music). It was deeply moving and motivating to see this wildly successful Black woman school those who clearly believe in division and “ownership” of a certain genre of music—or of America and Americana itself.

In a time of deep divisions in America, it felt like I was watching Beyoncé take America back—but not just for herself. It felt like she was taking it back for me. She was taking it back for every single person standing in that stadium. It’s hard to describe the power she possesses. But it is quite large—and it was clear that she understands the responsibility and the weight of that.