LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
Student CAMP: Prom Night - The Attack of the Killer Straight People |
by Kristen Minor |
By the time you read this column, faithful readers, I will have graduated from high school. As I write, however, it's a few days yet until I walk across the platform. That's all I have to do, really, walk across a platform, smile big for the camera, and take a slip of paper. It feels like it's the end of the world, though. Most of my classes are unofficially over, and the main topic of conversation is college and whatever else is beyond high school. I feel as if I've degenerated into apathy. My principal activities consist of writing, spending as much time with my girlfriend as possible, communing with my brother's hermit crab, and immersing myself in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. (Side note: Yes, the characters Willow and Tara are officially in a lesbian relationship. I am a happy dyke.) The most interesting part of the past month was prom. Some of you were doubtlessly told by your mothers that prom was "the most important night of a girl's/boy's high school experience. I'm not seeing it. First of all, the "prom experience" is so much more than just one nightpicking the right dress/tux, shoes, accessories, and the ilk is just as important. Or so I'm told. I picked out a nice dress, but I felt odd when some of my classmates asked me to describe it in detail (I couldn't) and then proceeded to rattle off more information about their chosen gowns than the designers themselves knew. It was disorienting. So were the conversations about limos. I didn't ride in a limoit seemed like a waste of moneyand I listened with amazement at the people who were shelling out 200 odd dollars for a long car. My date for the evening was my best friend. He asked me out to senior prom in 7th grade. (All together now: Aww...) Some people were surprised that my girlfriend Leigh (same girl, different name) and I didn't go as a couple. Part of me wanted to. But a bigger part of me wanted to go and have a nice time, not make a huge statement. I've got a week left, and she has a yearwe don't need to get beaten up by dressed up rednecks who think two girls dancing together is disgusting. So, for once, I was dropping off the "radical lesbian" thing. Leigh and I did have one momentwe got our picture taken together. The photographer was a little confused. Our friends thought it was adorable. The fundamentalist Christians who were friends with Leigh and I until we started dating glared at us marvelously. It was a high point of the evening. I should mention that Leigh looked radiant. When I walked into the country club and saw her, it took my breath away. Ours was an interesting table to sit atwe had the odder theater rats and the openly gay people. Preppies stayed away from us for fear of contamination. It's amazing what a well cultivated reputation can do for one's desire to not be bothered. Maybe Prom is a highlight of a high school career if you're straight. It was definitely a straight couple's dream. Couples were crawling around like ants, anticipating a beer and sex filled post-prom. I could feel the hormones flying on the dance floor. Watching the couples gyrate on the dance floor made me feel awkward. I had this burning desire to get a hose. Not much of prom really affected me. The music was bad, I couldn't dance with my girlfriend, and my gay best friend was feeling very lonely, as he is boyfriend-less. I danced with him once, which is my maximum number of dances when surrounded by straight people. I don't have a problem with straight peoplethat's just sillybut I was angry with the other prom goers for making me afraid of what would happen if I danced with Leigh. I asked her once, and she looked at me and said, "It's not worth it." I know she was right, but it still bothered me. The group I was with consisted of nine people. We left at about 9:30very earlyand went to my house. We then had a movie marathon. It was at my house that the best part of the evening happened. Leigh and I sat on the couch, and we snuggled up to each other. Leigh is not much for public displays of affection, especially around some of our friends, and it was nice to have her hold me without having to ask. As we sat there, our arms around each other, I was thankful for our circle of friends. When I came out, I lost a lot of friends. I never expected to lose a lot more when Leigh and I started dating, but I did. We both did. I guess it was okay for me to be openly gay and single or openly gay and in a long distance relationship with someone that almost none of my friends had ever met, but Leigh? Forget it. Leigh is a quiet girl who never really dated anyone before I came along. She realized that she was gay while we were falling for each other. To the people who used to be our friends, this screams "Kristen made her gay." I wonder if they would think that if they saw her through her sexuality crisis. Anyway, coming out as a couple has the same general effect as coming out. Some friends ditch you, some say that they don't care but treat you differently, which is just as bad, and some remain the same. My friends that remained the same? I love them. When Leigh had to leave, I walked her to the door. She kissed me then, in front of everyone. That one moment was better than all the hours before it. I finally realized that to our friends, we were just another couple. That means more to Leigh and I than a thousand dances. Kristen may be reached at kristen@youth-guard.org |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 10, No. 6, June 2, 2000. |