When Music Tells the Story - Avatar: The Last Airbender
My husband and I gifted our middle daughter something special this fall - tickets to Avatar: The Last Airbender In Concert.
If you know my daughter, you know she loves this show. She’s watched it 5.5 times through (and yes, the “and a half” was her clarification). She knows every character and storyline, while I’ve only caught bits and pieces over the years - a few episodes here and there snuggled on the couch, while she rewatched favorites.
So when we sat together in that concert hall, I was just there as the interested and supportive mom - the one who smiles, buys a souvenir, and enjoys the night. But what I experienced was so much more.
The Sound of a Story: This wasn’t a sit-still-and-politely-clap kind of concert.
From the very beginning, the conductor told the audience to participate - to cheer, laugh, boo, and celebrate along with the story. And from the moment the first note rang out, the room was ready.
A full orchestra sat beneath a massive screen that played scenes from the series, perfectly synced to the score. The music didn’t just accompany the show - it was the show.
Each nation came alive through sound! And then there was Appa (my personal favorite) - the great white, six-legged sky bison who carries Aang through the sky. His voice came from something small, almost hidden in the percussion section: a kalimba (thumb piano).
Each soft metallic pluck felt like light - calm, loyal, and alive. My daughter and I both felt it. I reached over and took her hand, caught in that shared moment - between what she already knew of Appa and how the music suddenly made him real.
Seeing Through Her Eyes: Watching her watch it was my favorite part.
She was fully immersed - cheering, gasping, laughing, and yelling right along with the crowd. The conductor had encouraged it, telling everyone to celebrate out loud, to let their reactions be part of the performance.
She took that permission seriously.
I had to stop myself from whispering, “Maybe not quite so loud,” more times than I can count. Once or twice I did place a hand on her knee - a quiet mom signal that maybe the two women in front of us had reached their limit. She’d lean forward at the big moments, probably shouting right into their ears, completely unaware.
But I couldn’t blame her. She was doing exactly what she was told - celebrating what she loved, letting herself feel all of it. And she wasn’t alone; she was just one of the loudest near us.
Watching that joy unfold - unfiltered, full-body, all heart - was fun. It reminded me that we spend so much time teaching our kids to hold it in, to quiet down. But sometimes, they’re meant to express it. To let the sound move through them.
The Power of Shared Joy: I didn’t know every storyline or character, but it didn’t matter.
The music told me everything I needed to know - the emotion in the brass, the heartbeat in the drums, the tenderness in the strings. And woven through it all were sounds I don’t often hear live - instruments from across Asian traditions that gave the score its soul.
As I sat beside her, I realized how powerful it is to experience something through someone else’s joy. This was part of her world - her soundtrack - and for two hours, I got to step inside it with her.
The audience was full of kids, teens, parents, and adults who’d grown up with the show. Every time a beloved character appeared or a familiar melody played, the hall erupted - laughter, applause, cheers rising like a wave.
It reminded me how universal this is - how music brings people together in shared story. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a small-town concert in Jackson or a packed theater full of Avatar fans; the feeling is the same. Joy. Awe. Belonging.
As a music therapist, I’ve been witness to that connection. But that night, I didn’t see it as a professional. I saw it as a mom.
Sitting beside my daughter and husband, watching her world open wider through music, feeling that same wonder in my own chest - that’s something I’ll carry with me.
A Final Note: If Avatar: The Last Airbender In Concert comes anywhere near you, go. Even if you’ve never watched the show.
It’s an extraordinary experience - a celebration of story and sound, of what it means to feel music rather than just hear it.
