The trauma of Homecoming — and why it’s worth it
The massive sea of sweaty people dancing at homecoming like they’re at Coachella
On Saturday, Sept. 21, 2019, I woke up bright and early at 9:30 a.m. I went out, got my hair and makeup done and put on a beautiful, sparkly blue dress. Exciting would be an understatement to describe the amazing day ahead of me.
By 12 a.m. my makeup had melted off and my hair was a sweaty nest of bobby pins. Sequins were missing from my dress, scattered throughout the large gym. Even though I looked like I got hit by a truck, I was so ready to relive that crazy night again.
You might be thinking, ‘Are you OK? What happened?’
Homecoming.
Listen, homecoming is one of the most fun things high school has to offer, but the dance itself is traumatic. There is a strange sense of excitement and fear while being thrown into a pile of moshing students like you’re at Lollapalooza.
At least the mosh pits at Lollapalooza are considered sophisticated. Everyone has a mutual understanding that if you break someone’s foot during 21 Savage, you might get punched in the face. This is a completely different story for homecoming.
Students whose moms buy their 25-dollar homecoming tickets have nothing to lose. They can clomp around in their cheap dress shoes and four-inch heels that dig into unsuspecting feet.
While this sounds terrible, getting bruises in the pit is kind of like a prize. It says, “Hey! I survived homecoming, and it was nuts!”
Now this may sound like a very traumatic and negative view of homecoming. Everyone is drowning in a sea of sweaty high schoolers, which kind of sounds like the worst night ever, right? It really isn’t, though.
Through all this pain, there is a strange aura that draws me back every year. The feeling of being thrown like a rag doll after getting ready for six hours is disappointing but totally worth it. The fun I always have at homecoming is unforgettable.
Being able to talk about the mosh pits at homecoming is always the highlight of my Monday morning the week after. With North’s homecoming coming up, I wonder if there is still time for me to go out and get a new dress to relive the whole crazy experience again. If not, there’s always Lollapalooza next year.
