Prom is one of those painful experiences that we must all voluntarily submit ourselves to as a right of passage, like braces or circumcision. We are supposed to masochistically endure and actually pay gobs of goof-off money on something in a shabby gym, with terrible music and awkward yet cocky attendees who can't dress themselves. Given the opportunity to have a proper do-over, and a legitimate one at that, I say die to all you prom-haters who would have agreed with me.
Gays may not be able to get legally married, yet unbeknownst to me, we can have our own proms. This was GLSEN's (Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network) ninth Annual Prom at Cincinnati's Contemporary Arts Center. The point of the event was to raise money for the organization. Its goal is to make the lives of gay youth in school as easy as possible, which can be difficult. GLSEN assists in such endeavors as creating gay-straight alliances and they invented the Day of Silence.
I entered a downtown Cincinnati building via a quite long and chic coupling of sliding glass doors. Inside I found the reciprocal stares of Cincinnati's adult gay glitterati waiting. There were the younger, effete gays in their bespoke suits and Italian shoes. They were all properly plucked, groomed, primped, fitted, cleaned and tanned for the affair. Then there were the rich and veteran queens and lesbians. They were all undoubtedly gay mafia. Compared to my senior prom, this was a debutante ball. At the former, the chaperones were bitter and underappreciated faculty.
Once there, I proceeded down an extensive red carpet to be professionally photographed by a foreign and flashy gentleman. He instructed me on just the right way to hold one hand, and just the right place to position the other. I moved my chin here. I leaned that way. I looked over there. The flashbulbs popped and I felt proudly ogled. Obviously the power gays who organized the event did their homework. After all, what gay boy does not want his picture repeatedly taken? I left his stage feeling sufficiently pretty and rather ladylike.
Then, I descended downstairs to the actual prom for students in both high school and college. I entered the black hardwood floored room only to receive some rather condemning glances from the gay juvenescence. The looks would have said something like, "Damn ... that is one old fairy." I am 19 for the record. In fact, I would swear one of the "gaybies" was around 14, though he claimed to be 17 when asked. It was heartwarming to see these whippersnappers able to date each other and have their own prom based on acceptance.
At the other end of the age spectrum was a venerable lesbian couple. They told me they had been together for 34 years, and they wanted to see what the future of the gay community was like. One of ladies, who wore a rainbow bedazzled waistcoat came because she had never been to prom and decided she should finally attend one at her respectable age of 79. Her partner told me that she had been to prom, though not with the person of her choice, and thus she wanted to have a prom with a legitimate date. While the gravity of being gay now shouldn't be belittled, it made me thankful to be born in the current setting. Their cuteness also made me savor the progression of the cause their lives epitomized.
I looked out a window to find a group of quite stereotypical Midwestern, straight people gathering outside and beginning to gawk at the scene inside. It was as though we were some sort of a zoo exhibit to them. I was not the only person who felt more than a bit vexed. If you do not know, gays vehemently despise being spectacled by certain heterosexuals. In response, some rather dramatic gays - I know, dramatic is redundant - began to gawk in return and proceeded to make out. Thankfully, though not rightfully, the observers were appalled and moved along.
Like many of you, I had no idea what to expect from a gay prom. In retrospect, it was a more-or-less ordinary prom, only gay and classy. Just like at the typical prom, there was plenty of grinding. There were some of the same lame prom accoutrements, like the "mock-tails." There were wallflowers and there were the superfluously lubricated who ruled the dance floor.
My evening challenged my false perceptions concerning prom. Admittedly, I did not want to go. Yet it proved to be possible to have an enjoyable time at this arcane, and perhaps outdated tradition with a more appropriate and well-planned event. The catering, the venue, the characters, the embellishments and decorations, the music and the attire were all superior to my senior prom.
Beyond the superficiality of prom, the event showed what is happening in this facet of America. The uncouth straights showed the ignorance of some. Some, though not all, of the attitudes there proved to me that there are unfortunately far more Jack McFarlands than Will Trumans in our community. The age gap presented what has and what will be accomplished, while the mere idea of a gay prom demonstrated some people prefer the unordinary, yet feel it should be embraced and morphed into pleasure.
Finally, the environment and time was less painful in comparison. It was about going to "my" prom. Thus, my point is not that your high school, and probably straight, prom was insufficient. Rather, we should all have the opportunity to attend such an event in the circumstances that most suits ourselves. But go crash a gay prom. It'll be worth it.
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