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By Luke Taylor
It may be ironic that a future dentist has so much love for Halloween, but October 31st is a day second to none. Just ask my roommates – I have had our apartment decorated since Labor Day! I live for the corny jump scare movies like Scream and stringy pumpkin “guts” that come with carving. If I had it my way, it would stay 66° all the time and leaves would never go back to green. Each October, I choose a new horror story to read like Dracula by Bram Stoker. But my love for Halloween isn’t just about movies or gourds, it’s about what the holiday reveals about us.
Each Samhain’s night brings an opportunity to don the identity of another for a night and catalyze community. If you’re like me, you are already planning your next costume on November 1st and have a notes app entry pre-made to any party. Details matter! Eccentric costumes are a conversation starter and open the door to connection. Next month I hope to pull off a striking resemblance to Hannibal Lecter in hopes I find someone who loves Silence of the Lambs as much as me. While it may seem like a reach, I see Halloween as an exercise of empathy. Costumes are more than face paint and fabric, but a temporary invitation to imagine life as someone else. Not only are you putting yourself in someone else’s shoes (assuming you’re not a ghost), but for one night everyone becomes equal with no backstory, pursuing a similar, yet frightful, goal of cavities and smiles! Simply put, Halloween is for all.
Halloween is all about ritual: checking on neighbors, opening doors to the unknown, and
repeating ancient phrases, all the while weaving community. On the streets, children and witches alike
cackle with excitement, roads serve pedestrians instead of passengers, and strangers become neighbors.
For one night, everyone faces their fear head on – together. Horror novelist Paul Straub once wrote, “Most
people will tell you growing up means you stop believing in Halloween things - I’m telling you the
reverse. You start to grow up when you understand that the stuff that scares you is part of the air you
breathe.” Fear doesn’t have to divide or haunt, but can rather unite when faced collectively.
So on this Hallow’s Eve, let us remember behind every mask is a neighbor, friend, or someone
waiting to belong. I challenge everyone to both masquerade while modeling kindness. Give some candy
and gather with loved ones. Slip on a veil and gain a new perspective. Step into the night in both disguise
and solidarity. Through common fright, we might even weave a cobweb of connection.
Luke Taylor is a McConnell Scholar at the University of Louisville in the Class of 2027. He is studying political science and biology.