The rite of passage

Yes, the Senior Prom.

Like no other event, even more than graduation, the prom is the defining moment of transition for our seniors. They begin thinking about it, it seems, in January; they start shopping for dresses (often on the computers in my classroom) in February. The drama of who will sit at which table or share which limo seems to dominate the emotional landscape for most of April and May. Finally, the first Friday after Memorial Day arrives, and the cars, limos, and party buses pull up to the catering facility.

Along with my friend and partner, Karen, I have my assigned spot every year - checking in those with ticket numbers 1-200. This is my chance to see the girls teeter in on impossibly high heels, zipped, buttoned, or laced into dresses of a dizzying array of colors and patterns, trailed by young men who range from confident to bewildered to downright terrified in their rented finery. The attendees line up for photos (there is a LOT of tugging on tops of strapless dresses), then wander into the oh-so elegantly decorated to find their tables. The background music is lively but not so loud as to interfere with conversation and everyone is behaving like ladies and gentlemen - I saw any number of young men gallantly pulling out chairs for and offering their jackets to their shivering bare-shouldered dates. The salad is served, and then each table take its turn at going to the buffet. Once dinner is over, the lights go down, the volume of the music goes up and the kids step on to the dance floor.

Now, I've watched Dancing with the Stars and any number of music videos, but this is NOT what happens at prom (I've learned to eliminate the definite article in front of the word). First, the kids are jammed onto the floor with barely enough room between them to turn around, so that the really good dancers don't have space to make their moves. In fact, I watch one boy do some impressive dancing IN THE LOBBY because it is the only place he has the space to cut loose. Second, the partners do not face each other; they go for long stretches of time without ever seeing their dates' faces. Beyond these descriptions, I have nothing to say - I'm hoping it isn't my advanced age that makes me avert my eyes and retreat to the chaperons' spot on the perimeter. Let someone else wade through the throng and be the decency police.

We left before the wonderful ice cream sundae/bananas foster dessert buffet on the patio - the second shift of adults had rolled in - and drove home listening to the Phillies and Flyers games, pondering yet another version of our students' crossover into post-high school almost-adulthood. I remember my own prom, so many years ago, and how grown up I felt; I remember helping my daughter shop for her dresses and the photo shoot at my parents' house for her senior prom. It's a lot of planning and emotional investment for just one night, but for most of the kids it will be indelibly etched in their memories - for better or worse. Next week is exam week, then, in ten days, graduation, and it will all be a blur. But, years from now, when they look at photos, they will recognize that kid, straddling the divide between childhood and adulthood, and smile, remembering how important it was at the time and just how it felt to be that elegant, if only for one night.