Just Drop in From the Helicopter

What is with kids and prom?

It is no longer enough to shell out oodles of cash for tickets to an off-campus venue, an elaborate dress or sharp tux, a limousine (or stretch Hummer) for transportation, and all the other 'necessaries': dinner, corsage, photos.

Now it has to be an event.

Last week I was host to the solving of the last section of a puzzle (the question written out on thick poster board and X-Acto-knifed into pieces). She had received gift baskets with puzzle pieces and treats in each class. After she put the pieces of the puzzle together, she had to follow the directions in the poem and go out to the quad to get her flowers and give her answer. Since her boyfriend goes to another school, she's going to have to come up with a way to ask him to our prom. He's already emailed me with an inventive way of accepting, and asked if I can help him out. I'lm doing my best to accomodate this...but how much school has he missed already to orchestrate this whole thing, I wonder?

You can only imagine the number of people who want the question on our electronic marquee or on the daily announcements. I'm so glad I'm not the one dealing with that!

Somehow, someone keeps raising the stakes. One of my seniors told me today that he wants to have a police officer pull his prospective date over and issue a "Go to Prom with NAME" ticket. It's creative, but I can't help wondering if our officers have other things to do.


Another student of mine, female this time, is involved in a -- I kid you not -- competition with her boyfriend to decide who has the best pitch. Did you catch that? They already know they are going together. I don't know what his pitch will be, but hers strikes me as more diabolical than cute. She wanted me to give him a letter she'd typed up on faux school stationery -- a letter stating that he was now failing my class and needed a parent signature. In the middle (not set off, not a different font, just smack in the middle of the second paragraph) she states that it is all a joke and that he should go to prom with her.

I refused that one -- the boy is actually too close to failing my class to make it the least amusing, and I have some history with the family. She's getting another teacher to do it.

There was one that made me laugh. A few years ago, a boy who had my class the same period as his intended target asked for my help. I sent her out of the room to get my roll sheets so he could prep the desk:


Imagine our disappointment when the door opened a few minutes later to reveal...a tardy student! The student happened to sit in the desk just in front of the fish-decorated one. When he sat down, he turned around to see the get up, and his elbow knocked the whole contraption flying!

Class was crazy! Students on the floor, trying to scoop up the flopping fish, others picking up the plants and rocks, still others frantically searching for bottled water they could dump into the bowl -- all before the girl came back! It was a symphony of hilarity and chaos.

She did come back, eventually. She did say yes. No one said a word to her about the debacle until later. I don't know if they were still in adrenaline shock, or maybe they wanted that kid to keep his street cred for the gift and his offer.

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Sheesh. What happened to the sincere, heartfelt question? When did everything have to play out like a John Woo movie? My marriage proposal wasn't as elaborate as some of these -- and I'm glad of it.

It's all in good fun, though, mostly. So let them ask away. But I draw the line at the helicopter!