Big Hair and Billy Joel- Memories of My High School Prom

     Today is prom day.  All day long Juniors and Seniors have been dismissing early, heading off to hair appointments and nail appointments.  To pick up tuxes and have pictures taken.  My classes have been miniscule, the kids that were present were ansty and unfocused.  Top all that off with an unplanned fire alarm and the warm weather this was one unproductive day! 
    As a teacher I really enjoy all the buzz at the end of the year.  Not just because I am as ready for summer as my students are but because the excitement surrounding Prom and yearbooks and graduation is infectious.  It always brings me back to my own experiences and I begin to reminisce about the "good ole' days."
    The first Prom I attended was my freshman year.  In my high school Prom was for Juniors and Dinner Dance was for seniors.  As a freshman I had many junior friends and so I attended the traditional celebration with a boy I knew and several other friends.  It was held in the school gym which had miraculously been turned into something beautiful and magical.  My second Prom was my own.  Like all girls I poured over magazines and catalogs looking for the perfect dress.  Finally, unable to find what I really wanted, I chose beautiful irridescent fabric and and just the right pattern and had my dream dress made.  It was perfect- tea length, tiered irridescent skirt and spaghetti strapped bodice.  Topped off with perfectly large "eighties" hair I felt like a princess.
     My "prince" was a boy I had first met in the fifth grade.  Ours was a love-hate relationship for years as we jockyed back and forth between friends and enemies.  Over the years between fifth grade and eleventh grade he tormented me and tortured me.  During periods of clemency we would try to be friends but it never lasted very long.  When his father passed away at the beginning of our junior year we had oscillated back to friends and for some reason the pendulum stayed in that position.  Over the months preceeding the Prom our friendship developed into my first real "long term" relationship (If you could count three months as long term...!).
    When my date arrived in his father's shiny, white Buick, Billy Joel was in the tape deck and a corsage was in his hand.  After all of the obligatory pictures of us and our group of friends we all headed off to indulge in Italian food before a night of dancing and celebration. We did the chicken dance and the YMCA, the Twist and the Electric Slide.  Every joined the Locomotion and we danced in groups.  There were slow dances and songs that were impossible to dance to.  No one spiked the punch and everyone complimented everyone else on how nice they looked.
    When the main event came to a close we all headed back to my  house for an after prom celebration of food, movies and swimming.  It was the first and really my only "Boy-Girl" sleepover.  I am quite certain that my mother only agreed to it to ensure that she would know exactly where I was and what I was doing all night long.  Either way we all had a great time and the night still remains as one of my favorite high school memories.
     When the pendulum swung again a few weeks later, my "long term", three month relationship came to an end.  For years we avoided each other, hurt feelings governing our lost relationship.  We have long since gone our separate ways, etching out careers and bulding families and even mending our broken friendship through the wonders of social networking.  But despite all of that, I only have good memories of what is essentially a rite of passage to becoming an adult.
     In this day and age there are so many more things to consider as we send our children out into the world alone.  The easy access of drugs, alcohol, tobacco and even sex have raised the stakes considerably in the twenty years since I drove away in a shiny, white Buick.  By the time my own boys meet girls they like enough to put on a tux and get a haircut for, there's no telling what will be out there waiting for them.  SOme days I joke about putting them in plastic bubbles to protect them from the world but really, I am only half joking.  
    As I watch the drama of Prom among my students I hear the strains of a Billy Joel ballad in some deep recess of my brain.  Plans for limos and fancy dinners have been flying around for weeks.  Talk of after- parties and hotel rooms worry me some.  I remember the alcohol free night and all the fun we managed to have completely sober and I pray for the safety of each of my students as they head out in gowns and tuxes, dressed like adults but thinking like teenagers.  I pray that they make good decisions and return home to their parents at some designated time in one piece and full of the excitement of a night they will always remember.  A night always worth remembering.