Crying in my Prom Dress: A Lament for the Senior Class

Fellow seniors, let me just begin by saying that the class of 2020 is by far the most screwed over class in Westfield history. Our suffering dates long before the horrible phenomenon that has destroyed traditions for seniors everywhere.

We have always been resilient; we're the guinea pigs, so we have to. We've dealt with the insufferable PlusTime and the dramatic switch from it and sixth period to Enriching Students and CORE Advisory time. We've dealt with schedule changes, and we watched as the student parking lot outside the auditorium was ripped away from us just before we could use it--in order to make room for the massive construction project our building has become. Our class has endured all this and more, but that was only the beginning.

This year, we were robbed.

Yes, everyone lost something, and by no means do I wish to diminish the struggles of one individual to glorify those of another. However, I think I speak for every senior when I say that we are mourning the losses of our tragic lasts. Senior year is a thing steeped in tradition, and everything traditional about it has been tossed out or adjusted so that it is barely recognizable.

1. Senior Season

For those involved in sports, clubs, and other activities, we lost our last chance to do the things we love. Spring sports have been wiped away. Speech and debate finals have been…adjusted to an online format. Rock the Arts and American Pie couldn’t happen. I was a part of the cast of Shrek the Musical, and I can hardly bear the thought of this entire cast--but especially the seniors--not being able to perform something we’ve worked so hard on.

2. Prom

So I am writing this to you on the evening of May 2nd, which was originally supposed to be the date of our prom. I was so thrilled about going this year--I had a gorgeous dress that just needed a few alterations, and my friends and I were going to make the most of it this year. Clearly, that didn’t go as planned. Tonight I did a few things with some friends (taking pictures and chatting over Zoom) to celebrate it, but it just wasn’t the same. While parents are doing their best to create substitute events so we can still get the experience, I’m still plagued with sadness as I write this (no longer in my prom dress, contrary to what my title suggests).

3. Senior Assassin and Other Fun Traditions

We’ve all heard about senior assassin. Every year, it gets hyped up in class as you hear students ask each other and their teachers for hints and help with getting their targets. Once again, something we will never experience. There won’t be an adrenaline rush or a thrill of fear as you race across the parking lot to avoid being shot.

And that's not the only "senior ____" tradition being taken away from us. Senior trips, senior pranks, senior skip day…all down the toilet. Thanks, corona.

4. Graduation

The newest on our list of disheartening announcements, we don’t even get a normal graduation after everything we’ve worked for. How is one supposed to get a sense of closure on the high school experience without walking across the stage and shaking hands with Stacy Mac herself? How can something so laden with tradition and ceremony be hastily rewritten like it has? I don’t blame any one individual for the alternative plan that has been established for graduation, but really? You think this is the best way? The video graduation hardly means anything. We won’t all be together to celebrate our accomplishments and say our final goodbyes.

5. Endings

There are some things that you just have to experience so that you are able to sit there and contemplate and think to yourself that was the last time I did that. We won’t have that. We won’t sit through our final class periods or hear the final bell or give our teachers one last hug or drive away from the parking lot one last time. We won’t be able to soak that feeling in--the relief, pride, sadness, nostalgia, or whatever else comes with it--because it already happened. It already happened, but we weren’t able to appreciate it because we thought we would be coming back.

Boy, were we mistaken.

So to my fellow seniors, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything you’ve lost individually and for everything that we’ve lost collectively. I know this was not what we hoped or planned for, and it’s okay to be angry. I sure am (so much that I started running. By choice.). Your feelings are valid, and you’re most definitely not alone. We’re all mad, sad, and confused. And…can I be totally blunt and honest here?

It sucks.

This piece, along with other great writing, can be found at whsdigital.com.