Category Archives: Musings

My Prom, Her Prom

My daughter is going to prom tonight. She’s wearing a lovely dress, classy shoes and an antique Spanish lace shawl. But she’s not happy. She left the house (to go to a friend’s house to dress) ranting how much she hated prom. So, while she acquiesced to try on her dress for me, I won’t get to see her all dressed up for prom.

She’s going to prom with a group of girls she’s known for years and with whom she feels comfortable. She claims that the only reason she’s going to prom is because it is what you do as a senior. Go to prom.

I’d not thought about my prom for a while. I went to prom in my Junior year, but not my Senior year. I went with a guy — Dan. He was a friend. Possibly the best friend I had that year. He liked me. I liked him. As a friend. I’d met Jeremy by this time and didn’t feel comfortable really dating anyone else. I remember not liking prom, but at the time I thought differently. Interesting how time changes memory.

I don’t know if it was considered OK for a group of girls (or guys for that matter) to go to prom alone 1n 1974. I suspect not. At least it never occurred to me to go to prom without a date. I’m glad times have changed though.

So the differences between these two proms, 35 years apart (almost to the day)

Clare bought her dress <———> My mom made mine

Clare’s going with a group of friends <———> I went with one (male) friend

Neither of us looked forward to it.

Tune in later to see of she actually enjoyed it. (Although I suspect that if she doesn’t, she’s not going to lie and say she did)

And yes, I wish I’d been asked to help her find a prom dress. And yes, I wish she were getting dressed here so I could see her before she went and take her picture and act all Momish. But, as I keep on telling myself lately, this is her life. Not mine. (although isn’t there something in the manual on life that allows parents to see their kids in prom clothes? and take photos? And act all proud?)

What is hate?

Hate.

When I was a child and used the word hate (I hate spinach or liver or Devon or home ec), my mother would almost always counter my statement with, “Hate is a strong word” which meant, “don’t say it”. Once, when I was very angry at my mom because she was pressuring me to say hello to some popular kids at Ben Franklin, I used the word at her. “I hate you,” I hissed but immediately felt ashamed for using the word hate on my mother. I didn’t mean it. I meant, “I’m angry and embarrassed and too shy to talk to the popular kids. Leave me alone.”

My son used it on us a lot when he was younger, and occasionally I still hear him mutter it under his breath. I doubt he ever meant that he hated his dad or me. He probably meant he was angry or embarrassed. Whenever he said it I was transported back to 1974 and the costume jewelry aisle at Ben Franklin where I used the word at my mom.

Over the past couple of weeks because of two incidents involving the high school my teenagers attend, I’ve had reason to think about what the word hate means.

One incident involved a group from a “church” in Kansas protesting the name of the high school because it is thought that the poet after which the school is named was a homosexual.

Members of this “church” protest, among other things, schools and institutions the group thinks are accepting of homosexuality, Christian denominations it considers heretical,  synagogues, and funerals of people killed in plane crashes or while on military duty or who were murdered. They carry signs meant to cause anguish or anger. One says, God Hates You. They taunt and dance and do whatever they can to make their targets react. I’ve read that this group is not a religious group, but an organized group that makes its money by taunting people, then suing them if the people they are protesting react in any way illegal.

The other incident involved a former student making death threats on the Internet against students and teachers. He posted a poll on a website called People’s Dirt asking who of 10 students and teachers should die. The student’s first post included this passage, “…ynot jus die now nd take a couple people i hate out wit me…” [sic]. This student, who now lives in Tennessee, was taken into custody and could serve up to 60 years for this incident. Interesting, his mother says that the students mentioned in the poll are his friends and that the whole thing was blown out of proportion. Based on what I read, I find it hard to believe that he is still friends with these kids.

So, back to my question, what is hate? I think hate is a weapon. The person doing the hating, or announcing the hate wants to harm those they claim to hate, knowing that no one wants to be hated. I used the weapon on my mom in 1974, my son used it on his dad and me many times in the past 14 years. The Westboro Baptist Church members use it on just about anyone but themselves. The former Whitman student used it on several people. The intent was the same in all cases — to cause pain.

My mom was right (again). Hate is a strong word.

 

No thanks

403453Costco is selling a Backyard Bug Cake Pan:

“Imagine a table full of edible and adorable bugs! Enjoy these delightful cakes sprinkled with powdered sugar, or have the kids (and adults!) decorate their own cakes with icing, frosting or colorful candies. Durable cast aluminum ensures sharp detail and uniform baking, and a premium non-stick interior provides quick-release and easy cleanup.”

I think I’ll pass…