GLBT Youth Fight for the Right to Party at Prom

When I was in high school in the mid-'60s, it never occurred to lesbians and gays to go to their proms with a same-sex partner. Usually they went with their "beards" -- that is, their guy/girl-pals, their heterosexual accessories. The necessity to lug around a closet under one's taffeta prom gown was challenged in 1980 by a Rhode Island high school senior named Aaron Fricke who was determined, despite administrative refusal, to swirl around under the glitter ball in the arms of his date, Paul Guilbert.

Usually kids have to get permission from their parents to go to a late-night event, but in Aaron's case, he had to get a court order. According to the ACLU, the federal court not only agreed with Aaron's case, but warned the school that it needed to provide sufficient security for the lads.

The law remains, although so does the struggle. In March this year the Scottsboro, Ala., school board tried to keep two young lesbians from attending the junior-senior prom, but luckily Jackson County Circuit Judge John Graham nullified the ban just hours before the event. The parents and lawyers talked to the press and ran interference while a 17-year-old donned a fetching gown and was escorted by a 16-year-old in her handsome tuxedo. As one of the lawyers said, with more sense than hope, "This is just a dance. Adults need not get involved."

I had a long talk with a 17-year-old Seattle lad named Kyle Rapinan. As a kid who was homeless for a few years (he's with a foster family now), who is out in school and who is a leader in his school's Gay-Straight Alliance (GSA), he has been the target of a lot of scary bullying, he told me. This has involved everything from obscenities on the school's bathroom walls to mean and threatening postings on social networking sites like YouTube, MySpace and Facebook.

The cyber brutality has been particularly difficult, as Kyle sees academic achievement as his one route out of a difficult life. He's worried about the impact of all this online junk on his professional life in the future. "Getting bullied," he said, "was really depressing. If it wasn't for the GSA at my school, I'd go crazy."

He took his boyfriend to his prom a couple of weeks ago, despite the harassment. In fact, as soon as they descended from the limo at the venue, someone yelled "Faggot!" I asked him why he decided to make himself so vulnerable:

I had to show that even though they hated me and told me I didn't belong there, I am still a student in my school. I'm a senior, and this is my prom, too. I didn't have a lot of fun, but I felt I would regret missing this rite of passage if I didn't go.

But this week he made up for his discomfort at the school event by attending the Pink Prom he helped to organize with support from the adult community. He told me:

We got a grant for $700 from King County Community Organizing for our inclusive event because it was anti-violence and anti-drug. About 160 kids attended for free and we had 21 chaperones, including people from PFLAG (Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays), Safe Schools Coalition, teachers from school and other supportive adults.

From the West to the East, kids are standing up for inclusiveness. Recently, some Massachusetts gender-bending made the prom news. Last month a senior at Peabody Veterans Memorial High School, Deborah Lawson, invited her close friend -- a gay guy who enjoys dressing in drag -- to her prom as a substitute for her out-of-town boyfriend. The school principal said no, but when Deborah asked Fox News, of all people, to get involved, they called the superintendent. Since the handbook says that "everyone must wear appropriate dress," and a dress is considered appropriate for a prom, the superintendent gave them the go-ahead. Deborah concluded: "I think what I've learned is that if you scream loudly enough, you'll get what you want."