A fun, inclusive prom
A fun, inclusive prom
Posted 00:50am (Mla time) Feb 23, 2005
By Rina Jimenez-David
Inquirer News Service
Editor's Note: Published on page A15 of the February 23, 2005 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer
AT THE HEIGHT of the ballroom dancing craze, I wondered why other people my age were waltzing and cha-chaing and swinging all over the dance floor when all I could do were steps known in my day as the "maski-paps." Where did my education in the social arts go wrong?
Then it occurred to me. I never went to a prom, and thus never felt the need to learn any form of social dancing, at least the kind which has steps and sequences, and requires one to hold on to a partner. And for this I have no one to blame but myself. It was I, after all, who wrote an article in the school paper on how "offensive" it would be to hold an elaborate Junior-Senior Prom in the midst of the widespread poverty and social unrest of the early 1970s.
The graduating seniors at the time agreed and said they didn't need a prom to complete their high school experience. But when we became seniors, my batch mates insisted on some form of social bonding, so the juniors hosted instead an "alternative prom" held in a social hall with simple fare served on paper plates and plastic cups, while my classmates' dates spent much of their time ogling the exhibits in a car show held at the same venue.
I had boycotted even this bare-bones alternative, for by that time I was spending my after-school hours marching in the streets and yelling slogans.
These memories of my lost youthful social life were triggered recently when I was invited to an "alternative" prom called "Prom na Prom!" or "Pers Rampa, Okrayin ang Mapangtsugi na Prom" which from my limited knowledge of street talk can be roughly translated to: Let's go friends, let's trash the oppressive prom!
* * *
OPPRESSIVE? A prom? What's not to like about a night of dressing up, pigging out, dancing up a storm and, just maybe, making out?
Well, as explained by the organizers from PiLaKK, an organization of young people from urban poor communities, the prom may have evolved into a "rite of passage" for many young people, but the "unwritten rules" governing this social event have also served to make it unpleasant, if not downright traumatic for some teens.
"There are unwritten prom rules that need to be followed if one doesn't want to be discriminated against or branded a 'weirdo,'" say the "Prom na Prom!" organizers. One iron-clad rule is that your date needs to be from the opposite sex. Another is that "appropriate" prom wear means formal and expensive outfits that conform to society's stereotypes.
"Because of this, many young people feel out-of-place and excluded," explains PiLaKK, especially young people whose parents can't afford (or choose not to shoulder) the expenses, those who don't belong to the "popular" crowd or who simply can't find a date for the night, and young gays and lesbians and other minorities. "A young people's personhood is measured and boxed into his or her ability to snare a date," note the youth leaders.
Which is why, they add, prom season can bring with it not just excitement and anticipation, but also "oppressive social concepts like heterosexism, the primacy of beauty and popularity, the privileges of wealth, and the power of peer pressure to make young people conform to society's dictates."
So, in a desire to "promote self-affirmation, responsible relationships and solidarity among young people," PiLaKK and Likhaan, an NGO that promotes reproductive health among community women, decided to sponsor "Prom na Prom!" last Feb. 19 at the College of Social Work and Community Development in the University of the Philippines.
* * *
WOULD this "alternative prom" collapse under the weight of its serious intentions?
I'm glad to report that it didn't, for by the time I arrived at the venue, the air-conditioned hall had already heated up with an estimated 500 youths filling up the dance floor. While I espied a few pairs, mixed and same-sex, most danced in clusters, aping each other's steps.
With other invited judges-Marlea Munez of Wedpro and Jigs Mayuga, host of the defunct TV show "Out!"-I scoured the dance floor in search of winners in such categories as "Best in Gown," "Most Creative Attire," "Gender Bender," and "I Love My Body." To our amusement, we noted that while the young women chose to come in their everyday wear of jeans and tees, it was mostly young men who chose to make an appearance in "traditional" prom wear, in gowns of shimmering fabrics and rich material, preening as they walked back and forth, tossing their filmy shawls and styled hair about.
One young man showed off his well-toned muscles with a shiny see-through floor-length sheath, for which he was appropriately given the "I Love My Body" award. "Most Creative Attire" went to the get-up of a youth leader who had feathers perched on his head, his shirt and ripped pants studded with shiny CDs.
* * *
HIGHLIGHT of the evening was the "cotillion," which featured not pairs of dancers but pairs of youth and adult leaders. After waltzing into the hall, an adult leader "bequeathed" to a young person an item symbolizing his or her "coming of age," from a "magic mirror" that would grant to a young woman the power to see only positive images of herself to a poster of a woman in a sensuous pose symbolizing a young person's embrace of and responsible use of sexuality.
Of course, the evening brought back memories of my own youth and the proms I missed as a consequence of our own turbulent times. I could only wish that back then we activist youth had enough creativity to think of an alternative activity, one that would have taught us a lesson we would only learn years later: that seriousness of purpose does not preclude having fun, and that unless one is having fun, one could not in fact achieve one's purpose. As a saying goes: I would join the revolution, but only if I can dance.
Posted 00:50am (Mla time) Feb 23, 2005
By Rina Jimenez-David
Inquirer News Service
Editor's Note: Published on page A15 of the February 23, 2005 issue of the Philippine Daily Inquirer
AT THE HEIGHT of the ballroom dancing craze, I wondered why other people my age were waltzing and cha-chaing and swinging all over the dance floor when all I could do were steps known in my day as the "maski-paps." Where did my education in the social arts go wrong?
Then it occurred to me. I never went to a prom, and thus never felt the need to learn any form of social dancing, at least the kind which has steps and sequences, and requires one to hold on to a partner. And for this I have no one to blame but myself. It was I, after all, who wrote an article in the school paper on how "offensive" it would be to hold an elaborate Junior-Senior Prom in the midst of the widespread poverty and social unrest of the early 1970s.
The graduating seniors at the time agreed and said they didn't need a prom to complete their high school experience. But when we became seniors, my batch mates insisted on some form of social bonding, so the juniors hosted instead an "alternative prom" held in a social hall with simple fare served on paper plates and plastic cups, while my classmates' dates spent much of their time ogling the exhibits in a car show held at the same venue.
I had boycotted even this bare-bones alternative, for by that time I was spending my after-school hours marching in the streets and yelling slogans.
These memories of my lost youthful social life were triggered recently when I was invited to an "alternative" prom called "Prom na Prom!" or "Pers Rampa, Okrayin ang Mapangtsugi na Prom" which from my limited knowledge of street talk can be roughly translated to: Let's go friends, let's trash the oppressive prom!
* * *
OPPRESSIVE? A prom? What's not to like about a night of dressing up, pigging out, dancing up a storm and, just maybe, making out?
Well, as explained by the organizers from PiLaKK, an organization of young people from urban poor communities, the prom may have evolved into a "rite of passage" for many young people, but the "unwritten rules" governing this social event have also served to make it unpleasant, if not downright traumatic for some teens.
"There are unwritten prom rules that need to be followed if one doesn't want to be discriminated against or branded a 'weirdo,'" say the "Prom na Prom!" organizers. One iron-clad rule is that your date needs to be from the opposite sex. Another is that "appropriate" prom wear means formal and expensive outfits that conform to society's stereotypes.
"Because of this, many young people feel out-of-place and excluded," explains PiLaKK, especially young people whose parents can't afford (or choose not to shoulder) the expenses, those who don't belong to the "popular" crowd or who simply can't find a date for the night, and young gays and lesbians and other minorities. "A young people's personhood is measured and boxed into his or her ability to snare a date," note the youth leaders.
Which is why, they add, prom season can bring with it not just excitement and anticipation, but also "oppressive social concepts like heterosexism, the primacy of beauty and popularity, the privileges of wealth, and the power of peer pressure to make young people conform to society's dictates."
So, in a desire to "promote self-affirmation, responsible relationships and solidarity among young people," PiLaKK and Likhaan, an NGO that promotes reproductive health among community women, decided to sponsor "Prom na Prom!" last Feb. 19 at the College of Social Work and Community Development in the University of the Philippines.
* * *
WOULD this "alternative prom" collapse under the weight of its serious intentions?
I'm glad to report that it didn't, for by the time I arrived at the venue, the air-conditioned hall had already heated up with an estimated 500 youths filling up the dance floor. While I espied a few pairs, mixed and same-sex, most danced in clusters, aping each other's steps.
With other invited judges-Marlea Munez of Wedpro and Jigs Mayuga, host of the defunct TV show "Out!"-I scoured the dance floor in search of winners in such categories as "Best in Gown," "Most Creative Attire," "Gender Bender," and "I Love My Body." To our amusement, we noted that while the young women chose to come in their everyday wear of jeans and tees, it was mostly young men who chose to make an appearance in "traditional" prom wear, in gowns of shimmering fabrics and rich material, preening as they walked back and forth, tossing their filmy shawls and styled hair about.
One young man showed off his well-toned muscles with a shiny see-through floor-length sheath, for which he was appropriately given the "I Love My Body" award. "Most Creative Attire" went to the get-up of a youth leader who had feathers perched on his head, his shirt and ripped pants studded with shiny CDs.
* * *
HIGHLIGHT of the evening was the "cotillion," which featured not pairs of dancers but pairs of youth and adult leaders. After waltzing into the hall, an adult leader "bequeathed" to a young person an item symbolizing his or her "coming of age," from a "magic mirror" that would grant to a young woman the power to see only positive images of herself to a poster of a woman in a sensuous pose symbolizing a young person's embrace of and responsible use of sexuality.
Of course, the evening brought back memories of my own youth and the proms I missed as a consequence of our own turbulent times. I could only wish that back then we activist youth had enough creativity to think of an alternative activity, one that would have taught us a lesson we would only learn years later: that seriousness of purpose does not preclude having fun, and that unless one is having fun, one could not in fact achieve one's purpose. As a saying goes: I would join the revolution, but only if I can dance.
posted by Dante at 4:50 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home