It started with a flower.
Nina Davuluri, Miss America 2014, visited Central High School in York Pennsylvania, and
Patrick Farves gave her the flower and asked her to come to the prom with him.
Anyone who has had any involvement with planning a high school prom, or even just observed the process from a distance, knows that while not all high school formal dances aim for this, or achieve it, a cultural expectation exists that those who participate in a prom will find it a magical experience, an excursion into a fairy tale world, a Cinderella dance where all the coaches turn back into pumpkins (or, more accurately, rental stretch hummers) in the morning. Likewise, anyone who shops for food and reads the magazines and tabloids in the checkout lane knows that a whole industry dedicates itself to convincing us that some people, collectively known as celebrities, live in this enchanted world all the time.
An invitation to the prom, therefore, does not necessarily entail a sexual invitation, still less an invitation to any sort of relationship. An invitation to the prom may well mean nothing more than an invitation to share a fantasy. When someone to extend it to a person supposedly living the life of a celebrity, what does that mean? If you treat the proposition as an equation, and cancel out the absurdities on both sides, it comes out to a simple acknowledgement of the other person's humanity. I don't know how Mr. Farves saw his actions; more than anything else, it looks as though he saw the event as a cheerful prank.
But it
caught the attention of Amanda Marcotte the feminist blogger, who saw the whole thing in a much darker light. She has of course the right to see these matters anyway she chooses, but I find her arguments interesting.
She wrote:
Every year around prom, there’s a “cute” story wherein a teenage boy
gets himself some attention by putting a famous and beautiful celebrity
he’s never met on the spot by asking her to prom, knowing full well that she would rather be at home pulling out her toenails than go on a date with some random teenage boy she’s never met.
The passage expresses an interesting repugnance: people don't generally pull out their toenails voluntarily. Marcotte here appears to equate
any date with any random teenage boy with torture. She provides an important clue to her thinking later in the piece, when she writes:
I don’t think it’s cute when girls pester Justin Bieber for dates, either.
As someone who wishes Bieber well and hopes he gets his life together, I still have to say: on the record now, and when Ms. Marcotte wrote the piece in question, the problem with pestering Justin Bieber for dates has much less to do with the "pestering", but with the recent behaviour of Justin Bieber. If I had to advise any random young woman about asking Mr. Biever out on a date, I would have something to say about getting into a car with someone who has a charge of drunk driving on his record, I see no reason any young woman who wants to date Justin Bieber should not consider herself attractive enough to set her sights on him.