Constance McMillen, a Fake Prom, and ZOMG! Fulton, Mississippi Fell into a Time Warp

This all starts with Constance McMillen, an openly gay high school student, who just wanted to go to the prom. It seems simple enough until you realize Constance lives in Fulton, Mississippi and Fulton fell through a rip in the fabric of space-time, and landed in the year 1947.

After announcing her intent to attend the prom with her girlfriend, Constance was given a gentle, but firm, "Oh, hells no!" by the Itawamba Agricultural High School powers-that-be, the vice-principal of which is reportedly suffering from hysterical blindness from the encounter. Sounds like something tailor made for the ACLU.

So in walks the ACLU (betcha didn't see that coming) and takes the school to court. In a dodge to avoid a law suit, the school simply canceled the prom. "Not good enough," says a judge. Wrist are subsequently slapped. Reprimands are given. Promises are made and Constance is given an invitation for two to the prom to be held at the local country club.

Foul-play is suspected when Constance and her date are two of only seven people at the big, country club event. The other five attendees included two students with learning disabilities and three painfully nerdy kids with permanent wedgies. Meanwhile, across town, house music is thumping at an "unofficial and informal student gathering" which happens to include almost the entire student body, some parents, and even a couple of school officials. Or so rumor has it.

Whether all of this is true or not, isn't really the issue. The pertinent question to ask is, "What the hell did the people of Fulton, Mississippi have to fear from Constance McMillen?" Were two lesbians at the prom going to crumble the foundations of their town? Would this gay disease spread to the other children and possibly the livestock? Would their crops wither and die? How many days of locusts and darkness would they have to endure before their god forgave them?

The only smart thing the folks of Fulton did was forget that the town dunking stool was locked up in Ed's U-Lock-It, #B-22. If they had remembered, the story of Constance McMillen might have been one of "Local Teen Cured of Lesbianism. Proof Lies at the Bottom of the Tombigbee Waterway." Interviews with the locals would have eventually included the phrase, "The cleansing water accepted her soul...permanently."

Would someone please send Fulton, Mississippi a memo from 1954 that "separate but equal" ain't? And keep it simple. I don't think the locals understand big words like "apartheid" or "discrimination." And for the love of cheese, don't let it slip out that the earth revolves around the sun while your delivering the message. Lord only knows what will happen then. The black hole Fulton fell through might grow and swallow us all.