Our son M spent a fair amount of the last several months stewing about junior prom – or, to give you an idea of the importance it somehow has at our local high school – JUNIOR PROM.
M isn’t dating anyone, but after much angst, he finally asked G, a girl in his general we’re-all-nerds circle of friends, to go with him. Then came all the angst of planning for prom-related parties – pre-prom, post-prom, who’s invited where, who’s driving who where, blah blah blah. Plans seemed to change right up until a few days before prom. Finally, some adults intervened, and I got an email from the parents of one of G’s friends, inviting a bunch of families to a pre-prom party at their house.
I also learned from the email that “pre-prom party” is code for “take pictures of the kids, and the kids with their dates, and the kids with their parents, and the kids and their dates with their parents.”
Now, while all the girls at this party knew each other, so most of their parents probably did as well, my wife and I only knew one other parent at the entire party. Everyone else was unfamiliar. And in our very non-diverse town, where we’ve met only one other family with gay or lesbian parents in the entire K-12 school system, we were uncertain about what people’s reactions might be to meeting our family at the pre-prom party.
But as the picture-taking went on and on, one thing became abundantly clear: nobody blinked an eye at the fact that when M posed for pictures with his parents, he was posing with 2 moms. Ten years into legal gay marriage in Massachusetts, and society has become accepting enough that we were just another set of proud parents, chatting with other parents, and marveling at our son looking unbelievably handsome and grown-up in a tux.
Exactly the way it should be.