I dunno, I guess I’ve always thought there are Prom People and non-Prommers, you know? Like, I’m not into binaries–I’m very anti-either/or–until you get to the trappings of popularity in our status-focused American culture, and then I’m all, NOPE NO PROM FOR ME THANK YOU because it was never a place I felt like I fit. Listen. In high school I was a cheerleader, but that was at missionary kid school in the South Pacific. Our pleated skirts were barely shorter than knee length. Our bloomers may as well have had lace; they were certainly large enough to support rows of the stuff. More importantly, I was a founding member of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Club. We carried towels and answered “42” to every question asked. That was my vibe. Those were my people. So when I transferred back to the USA for my junior year, I was totally lost. I did not understand why fashion labels mattered. I was more horrified when my friend Christy brought vodka in her water bottle to school than I’d been in the middle of a government coup attempt in the Philippines. I struggled to find my crowd. I mean, I DID master The Claw bangs with the requisite teasing of the hair and barrels of Aquanet, probably because the South Pacific was not so far away that The Claw could not reach us, so the late 80s/early 90s were not completely lost on me, but outside of a couple kids in show choir, I felt very alone. Prom was an absolute no-go. I’d gone to one school dance, felt wildly uncomfortable when a ginger boy asked me to dance, and bolted out the door, more overwhelmed than I was by the cereal aisle at the grocery store. (Sidenote: did you know that in the States there is a WHOLE ENTIRE AISLE devoted to cold breakfast cereal?? My 16yo self did not know, and she could not deal, friends. The USA is ridiculous.)

Fast forward to today. I have five children. The eldest is a Prom Person. She went to her own proms and finagled invitations to other schools’. She had separate dresses for each one. She looked stunning and had a blast, and I loved that for her, though I could relate 0%. 

The next two kids of mine experience intellectual disability, and it was through them that I found Night to Shine; prom for folks of all ages with disability. It is truly magical, and if every prom was as open, joyful, fun, and full of chicken nuggets and ranch, I would turn into a Prom Person immediately. They have make-up stations for people who want to be made up. They have dress-up props. Everyone who wants to be is crowned king or queen. There are limo rides and photo booths and food and sweets and bubbles and a dance floor full of people just absolutely jamming. It is pure chaos. I love it.

The last two kiddos are twins, and let me tell you that my Geek Spouse and I bred true, friends. These two children are full-on nerds. They share science facts for fun. They thrive in the theater crowd. They never met a sports ball they knew how to maneuver. And, most importantly, they understand what “42” means. 

This is the twins’ senior year, and, due to my binary thinking, I didn’t really expect them to go to prom. I mean, I guess I just assumed they were firmly in the non-Prommers camp, you know? Like, they’re going to Performing Arts Prom (PA Prom rhymes with Gay Prom…coincidence?) next week which is a whole different thing, but PROM Parm? No. That was out, I thought. 

I thought wrong.

This weekend, my little geeks went to prom with their theater friends.

A cadre, if you will.

A horde.

A fantastic conglomeration of We Are Wildly Ourselves Without Apology descended upon PROM Prom.

A skosh reluctantly (“the friends didn’t give me a choice”) but with INCREDIBLE fashion sense.

The theme was Rapunzel.

They invited their sophomore friends so more of the throng could attend.

I hemmed slacks. I did up-dos. I did make-up. I told them all they looked fabulous because they did. I knew they would have the best time because they were together, but I also wondered what they would think of PROM Prom. 

The next day, I asked. 

Me: How was prom?

My children: Fine. [Just like the usual school liturgy. “How was school?” And All God’s People said, “Fine.” I know better. I adjusted the question.]

Me: Did you dance?

My children: No. [said in the That Is The Stupidest Question Ever Uttered voice]

Me: So what did you do?

My children, looking as me like I’m daft: It was at the Air and Space Museum, Mom. We walked around and looked at the exhibits. We read every sign. We discussed the historical significance of the space race. We talked about physics and the future of space travel. [This is a paraphrase.]

Oh. Obviously. 

Me, pleased: Well, that’s great! It sounds like they really set Prom up to appeal to all different types of kids, not just the Prom People.

My child, with rising rage: NO. No. NO. Listen. The photo booth was set up opposite the SR-71 Blackbird, ONE OF THE COOLEST PLANES IN ALL EXISTENCE, but it wasn’t set up to, like, frame the Blackbird. So you got a picture while you’re LOOKING AT the Blackbird, but NOT WITH IT. For what reason, I CANNOT TELL YOU. Like, WHY? It’s RIGHT THERE. You have to look at it to take your picture, and it’s black; it would make a great background. But no. Nope! And you know what else they did? They put the DJ right in front of the display about the Thunderbird–which is also one of the coolest planes in that building– AND THEN WE COULDN’T LOOK AT IT OR READ ABOUT IT. It was terrible. TERRIBLE. [This is verbatum. I recorded the rant and transcribed it.]

Me, laughing: Almost as if people go to prom to, like, dance or something and not peruse the exhibits at the air and space museum?

My child, shaking his head: EXACTLY! Unbelievable.

He walked away muttering. 

All of which is to say, my binary thinking was challenged this weekend. And my geeks are (kinda) Prom People. And PROM Prom these days is geared toward different types of kids. Sort of. Within, you know, reason. I mean, it’s not as cool as Night to Shine, but what could be, really? (Answer: PA Prom. PA Prom is that cool.) And my kids (not just my twins…all my kids) looked DYNAMITE. And of course I forced them to take a pic with me even in my dirty gardening jeans. 

That is all.

Except I’m over 50yo, and I still don’t understand why fashion labels matter, but neither do my children. And I still think an entire aisle dedicated to cold breakfast cereal is excessive. Some things change. Some stay the same.

P.S. Are you a Prom Person or a non-Prommer? Or do you reject binaries like that? What about your children?