As some movie theaters around the nation have opted to respond to the shootings in Aurora, Colorado by banning costumes, it is worth reflecting once more on ConnectiCon, the multi-genre convention that was held in Hartford earlier this month.
This is one of the few gatherings that offers discounted admission for MENSA members, but not for senior citizens. Most attendees are young, year after year. The giddy, teen energy just about grabs Columbus Boulevard by the shoulders and shakes it for three days.
With 10,500 individuals — a majority of them belonging to the age group most likely to be involved in violent crime — attending this year’s convention, there were no serious incidents. This is an increase of 2000 attendees over the 2011 event, also held at the Connecticut Convention Center.
On that same weekend in July, a Jason Aldean concert at the Meadows — attracting 30,000 to the venue — made the news because police decided to crack down on underage drinking and general jackassery at this location. The North Central Connecticut Emergency Medical Services Council complained that there is an average of 70-90 transports to area hospitals when there is a show at this venue, with tailgating and underage drinking being a major problem. After vowing to be more strict, the police issued 121 Hartford Community Court summonses for underage drinking happening on property just outside of the venue; there were a total of 26 transports to area hospitals, 18 of which were for intoxication. Of those 18, eleven were for underage drinking. One month earlier, at the Rascal Flatts concert — before police promised to crack down — there were 62 transports to nearby hospitals.
While police had to contend with youth behaving badly at the Meadows, there were no such concerns at ConnectiCon, despite the young population, most of whom were in costume, and many of whom had “weapons” as part of their costumes. That was before the shooting in Aurora; now, it is expected that the conversation change, that we look askance at anyone wearing the garb of her favorite character. We are expected to question teens and adults who thrive on creativity and imagination. What could they be hiding? Why don’t they look and dress like everybody else?
But this would be looking in the wrong direction.
Over the weekend, there were no serious incidents at ConnectiCon. Looking at the Hartford Police Department’s data for that weekend, there is no telltale recurring address listed on dozens of individuals’ arrest records, as is the case when there is a show at the Meadows (Savitt Way) or a major drinking holiday (Allyn Street). Paul Comeau, ConnectiCon’s Director of Publicity and Public Relations, confirmed that there were no issues resulting in calls to the police during ConnectiCon 2012.
Organizers, not driven by profit motive, take care to regulate what happens at ConnectiCon. Security asked to see badges if not already visible. To get inside of the panel and workshop rooms, attendees had to show their badges — and for the few 18+ panels, additional ID was required. To simply walk through the giant lobby of the Connecticut Convention Center, a badge was required.
There were strict rules about alcohol consumption. People can always find loopholes, but in the three days of wandering through the convention and around the Riverfront, no conventiongoer appeared intoxicated enough to cause damage to himself or others. No puddles of vomit were stumbled upon. Compare that to walking by the bars at night on any given weekend.
At ConnectiCon, bags could not be left unattended. “Weapons” needed to be checked by staff members and if the props were determined to be too dangerous, could be banned from the event. Actual weapons — firearms, explosives, and live steel — were not permitted. The only person allowed to carry a functional weapon on site was an on-duty law enforcement agent.
ConnectiCon organizers have it right: costumes are not the problem. Be cautious, but let people have their fun. After all, what most mass murders and killing sprees have in common is not the attackers’ wearing of a disguise but the discharging of a firearm.