Chapter 92: A Prom-inent Statement

Sunday, May 5, 1985

Jas and I were up before anyone else. The Houston Chronicle’s below-the-fold headline pretty much told the tale: ‘Making a Prom-inent Statement’.

In all, apparently twenty-two schools had had at least one gay couple try to attend their proms. Three (that the Chronicle knew of), all guys, had been turned away. One of those couples (in Amarillo) had been suspended from school.

Two others had been allowed to attend but forbidden to dance. Of those, one couple (two girls, in Beaumont of all places) had danced anyway and wound up with the other students cheering them on, thus undermining the principal who’d forbidden them to dance.

The other seventeen schools (including Memorial) had either simply accepted things or put up no more than token resistance along the lines of ‘Are you sure you want to do this? People might not react well.’ Most couples decided to take their chances, but one had backed out after going into the ballroom and being booed by their fellow students. That left seventeen schools (counting the girls who defied their principal) with gay couples dancing at their proms!

Memorial itself got some significant coverage. The guy couple turned out to be half expected, half a shock. Everyone in Drama had known Danny Brennerman was gay. He’d never hidden it. On the other hand, no one in Debate (as far as I knew, anyway) had known that Danny Bell was also gay. Maybe he hadn’t been, at the time, or hadn’t known he was, or whatever. Maybe Danny Brennerman had simply won his heart. In any case, Danny and Danny had been each other’s dates, and they made quite the handsome couple in the obligatory photo.

The even bigger surprise was Susan Dennison and Valerie Briscoe. I had no idea who they were, had never met them, and here they were, hand-in-hand with Anne, Natalie, Danny, and Danny. Three couples this year!

There was an obligatory response from the Straight Slate people, which was actually pretty muted. They made noises about ‘special rights,’ but no one even tried to explain how going to your prom was a ‘special right.’

The article concluded that the next generation was simply not going to put up with the nonsense the previous generation had and this was evidence of it. They didn’t see why being gay was something to be ashamed of. They weren’t going to hide in a closet, they were going to live their lives.

That was dramatically overstating it, in my opinion. Statistically, Memorial would have been expected to have about thirty or forty gay seniors. Six had gone to prom together. Now, some of the others wouldn’t have had dates, but it seemed unlikely it was that few. Most other schools were as underrepresented. Still, the ball was rolling along, faster and faster, and it certainly looked like it was just going to roll right over any schools that got in its way. I wouldn’t be surprised to see the numbers go up sharply next year, now that the ice was well and truly broken.

Dallas ISD had apparently been the most ‘overwhelmed’ (that was the word their school board President had used). Four Dallas ISD schools had one or more gay couples at their proms. They had immediately decided they had to do nothing because the worst possible response would have been some schools fighting it and some capitulating. Lawsuits come out of that sort of selective enforcement.

Houston ISD had three schools, which tied with our very own Spring Branch ISD. I found that simultaneously unthinkable and entirely predictable. A few years ago, Spring Branch had been a bastion of conservatism. In many ways, it still was. Yet here we were in 1985 and three Spring Branch ISD high schools had gay couples at their prom. Two each at Stratford and Westchester, plus Memorial’s three.

The reporter closed by likening it to a very genteel echo of the Stonewall riots. Gay kids had simply gotten tired of being treated like second-class citizens and weren’t taking it anymore.

PROMISE got several ‘prominent’ mentions (to steal the reporter’s pun). Anne herself got a paragraph and much of the credit for putting the whole thing together. The paragraph mentioned that ‘several former Memorial students’ were part of Anne’s team and had done much of the work. None of them were named, which seemed fair. The article was really about high schoolers, not helpful college students.

Anne had made a big gig for herself if she wanted it. After this success, kids across the state would be reaching out to PROMISE in the next few weeks. So would news organizations. Once this year’s prom season was over, next year’s would be far more crazy.

Perhaps some so-inclined individuals might make donations to keep PROMISE afloat and help them expand. I suspected it would be an all-volunteer organization for quite a while, but I’d seen all-volunteer organizations last decades and do great things.

Cammie and Mel came down around ten. Cammie immediately busied herself making coffee, while Jas just pointed at the paper, not even saying anything.

“Holy shit!” Mel said, looking at it and giggling. “Front page!”

“Take a look at the Memorial picture,” I said. “Page eight.”

“We knew about Danny and Danny,” Cammie said, from the kitchen.

“Do you know about Susan and Valerie?” Jas asked.

“Yes,” Mel said, chuckling. “But we only found out about them last Tuesday.”

“Principal Riggs must be feeling good,” I said.

“I checked,” Cammie said. “He’s seriously over the moon. It’s turned into complete vindication for him standing his ground two years ago. Now Memorial is getting praise from everywhere, and he’s getting lots of chances to tout Memorial.”

“And blow his own horn,” Mel said, chuckling.

“That, too,” Cammie said. “He can pretty much name his salary next time that comes up. He’s untouchable now!”

Angie and Paige dragged in just then, looking pretty tired.

“Coffee!” Angie demanded.

“I’m making it!” Cammie said. “Plenty! Do you want any, Steve? Jasmine?”

“Thanks!” Angie called, with Paige echoing her.

“No, thanks!” Jas and I both said.

“Holy shit!” Paige said, unknowingly echoing Mel. “Look at that!”

Jas had pointed her to the headline.

Angie looked, too.

“Wow!” she said, chuckling. “It was going well when we finally got to bed.”

“Seventeen schools total,” I said.

“Sucks about the two couples they wouldn’t let dance,” Mel said, sighing.

“The couple in Beaumont danced anyway and got away with it,” Jas said.

“Seriously? Beaumont?” Paige said.

“The other students cheered them on,” Jas said.

Angie shook her head, and said, “Wonders never cease!”

“Y’all have your work cut out for you!” Jas said. “Two more big prom weekends. Plus, a few schools have them as late as Memorial Day.”

“The two of us are available indefinitely,” Cammie said.

“We said we’d help until the eighteenth, except not on the tenth,” Paige said. “After that, we’re on vacation. But we’re back next year!”

I had a thought.

“Talk to Lindsay,” I said. “I know this was a Memorial thing, and that’s great, but I bet she’d want to help next year.”

“Good idea!” Angie said. “She would love that, I think.”

“John, too,” Paige said. “Maybe a few others. We need guys! Some of them didn’t really want to talk to girls, but everyone with any experience at this was girls.”

“Not anymore,” Mel said. “We’ve got a bunch who might be willing to talk to their peers.”

“Good point!” Paige said.

“By the way...” Cammie said, bringing coffee for Angie and Paige, then fetching cups for herself and Mel, “ ... PROMISE has two backers — or maybe three? — you should be able to guess, Steve. You, too, Jasmine. We didn’t mention it because ... well, this way’s more fun!”

“Also,” Angie said, “‘cuz, you know, Reality Distortion Field.”

I chuckled and thought about it.

It took me a couple of minutes. Then I said, “Anderson and Rita?”

“That’s one, or maybe two!” Mel said, grinning. “We hooked them up with Anne’s dad. According to Rita, Anderson was ‘tickled pink’ about the whole thing. It’s not as if Susan was out in high school, so it wasn’t a missed opportunity or anything, but still, they know all of us and support Susan. Susan loves the whole thing, naturally!”

Jas got the other one a few seconds later.

“Tom Myerson?” she said.

“Bingo!” Angie said, chuckling. “Same thing. There’s a case to be made that this whole thing, back to Lizzie and Janet, is his doing. That’s probably the truth, too! I don’t see this all happening without Lizzie having that student council race. They were debating it until the last minute even with Lizzie being fairly popular and well-liked! No Lizzie, maybe no us, and ... yeah.”

“Tom wanted to kick in some money,” Mel said. “Obviously, that’s a ‘yes, please!’ We’re still the biggest source of help, but they’ve got someone who will check the P.O. Box, read the mail, give the hate mail to the lawyer, write thank you notes to the nice people — that sort of thing.”

“Well, and they have a lawyer!” Cammie said, chuckling. “We don’t know her very well, but it’s someone Anderson, Elizabeth, and Kyle all know. We’ve got guidelines on what to say and not say, what to promise and not promise, all that. Like, we can’t threaten schools. We can suggest they might get bad press, but we’re not supposed to say, ‘Do this or the mob descends.’”

“Not that we have a mob!” Paige said. “It’d be cool if we did. You know — torches and pitchforks, like the villagers in ‘Young Frankenstein’!”

Cammie giggled, and said, “Those were the bad guys!”

“I know!” Paige said. “But it’s all about using our powers for good! We take a nasty, mean mob and make them a loving, tolerant mob.”

“Who’ll burn down the school if the administration isn’t loving and tolerant?” Mel said, raising an eyebrow.

“Working on that!” Paige said.

That reminded me of some things from my other life. Heck, it reminded me of some from this one. The number of times people have crossed the ‘We need to destroy the village in order to save it’ line is stunningly high. Heck, the French Revolution has a lot of similarities.

Still, we all knew Paige was joking. Really joking, too.

Thank goodness!

The phone rang around eleven. I was expecting a call from my parents, perhaps (though they would be in church), or maybe the Seilers or Nguyens. Heck, maybe Meg or Steffie, or Tom Myerson, or even Principal Riggs.

It was none of them. The voice on the other end of the line said, “Hello. This is Paul Prescott. I’m a reporter with the New York Times. Would Cammie Clarke or Melanie Riley be available and willing to talk?”

I said, “I’ll be happy to check.”

“Thank you,” he said.

I covered the phone and looked at Cammie and Mel.

“You’ll never guess,” I said.

“My parents?” Mel said.

“Um ... no,” I said.

“Mine?” Cammie said, making a face.

“Not hardly. It’s the New York Times. For you or Mel. Or both, probably.”

“Seriously?” Mel said.

“Seriously,” I said. “Guy named Paul Prescott.”

“Basement!” Mel said. “Now!”

As she and Cammie ran off into the basement, Angie called after them, “‘Once more unto the breach, dear friends!’”

I made sure they picked up the phone, then hung up the upstairs line.

“Well, that’s something!” Paige said.

“At least Steve won’t be the only one,” Jas said.

Cammie and Mel appeared after perhaps twenty minutes. Just as they did, the phone rang. This time, it turned out to be the Wall Street Journal. Back into the basement they went, to Angie and Paige’s laughter. Cammie threatened to make them talk to the reporters next time.

The next call, at a bit after noon, was from my parents, who were amazed by the whole thing and guessed that some of us were involved. Angie talked to them more than I did. She had one interesting thing to report later: Mom told us not to come down just for Mother’s Day. She didn’t think it was worth the long drive, especially with us coming down on the Friday before it, and wanted us to get our final grades before driving home for good.

While Angie was talking to Mom, Cammie and Mel told us the major newspapers had gotten their names from Anne (who was too swamped to talk to everyone). Besides, some of them had wanted multiple sources inside PROMISE. More voices made it sound like it wasn’t just Anne’s pet project (which, by this point, it really wasn’t).

Marco was the next to chime in. He’d also correctly guessed we might be involved. He and Cammie talked for a bit, and then he spent a while talking with Angie.

The Dallas paper’s coverage mentioned that Anne was planning on attending A&M. News to Jas and me, though (judging from some blushing) it might not have been news to the others. That would put PROMISE solidly in Bryan/College Station.

We immediately discussed getting yet another phone line and putting a machine on it, with a published number for the organization. Anne probably wouldn’t have a place to put a machine, and we could certainly handle it. This year had been about Texas, and that’s where our strength was, but this was going to go national, rather obviously. They’d be getting calls from out-of-state schools in short order. How much anyone here could help was unknown, but there was a certain cachet to ‘If they can do it in Texas, why can’t we do it here?’ for at least half of the states. Few schools in, say, Massachusetts want to look like they’re more backward than Texas, for goodness’ sake!