Not In My School is a weekly feature that throws out one YA lit cliche a week to compare to my own high school days. Because we all know how accurate those fictional nuances are . . .
I always thought this incredibly strange, proms in high school gymnasiums. Do the school people re-gift ugly Christmas sweaters too? It’s PROM. Boys wear tuxedos. Girls wear evening gowns (sometimes). And you’re holding it where the wrestlers contract ringworm? Gross. My proms, both junior and senior, we’re hosted at outside venues, the senior prom being the nicer of the two that included water fountains, a well-manicured lawn and some hosted-event legitimacy. The cutlery was fine, the glasses crystal and the tablecloths white. Don’t get confused: I was a public school kid. This isn’t the result of some uber-rich private school education. This is fundraising with overpriced wrapping paper and tins of popcorn. Even my guys saw something inherently wrong with holding a formal event in the same room death matches of dodgeball are played.