I went to prom in 2014, but if you ask me about that day now, I can still feel the plush red carpet beneath my feet. That year, my mom transformed the front steps of our red brick townhouse in Chicago into a black-tie event. She lined the walkway with velvet ropes, rolled out a red carpet, and filled our yard with balloons that matched the soft purple color of my prom dress. There was a whole DJ, not just a Bluetooth speaker in the corner, and a full catering setup, not just finger food. She even hired a professional photographer and rented a stretch white limo that idled down the block like a chariot.

Takeaways New Hide ▲

Front steps and yard become

the heart of

family celebrations

Prom send-offs serve as

community-wide events with

music, food, and joy

Decor transforms homes with

balloons, red carpets, and

vivid, personal touches

Porch and steps host

coming-of-age moments for

the entire community

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Before I even left the driveway, I knew I would never forget it.

That’s the thing about Black prom send-offs. They’re not just photo ops or flashy backdrops. They’re coming-of-age ceremonies—our community’s version of a quinceañera, a cotillion, a bat mitzvah. They’re the moment before the moment—the soft-launch into adulthood. And for so many of us, they happen right on the front lawn, surrounded by folding chairs, family friends, aunties with blurry camera phones, and neighbors two houses down who just came for the vibes.

My mom invited everyone in our village—people who had watched me grow up, braid my hair, and cheered me on at track meets. And when I left, she and the other adults stayed behind and kept the party going. They celebrated the milestone just as much as I did, maybe more.

“Ghetto Prom” and the Spectacle of Black Joy

Lately, “ghetto prom” has been trending on TikTok. And if you click the hashtag, you’ll find dozens of videos, many featuring Black kids in front of balloon arches and custom cars. But the tone is off. Sometimes it’s mocking. Sometimes it’s voyeuristic.

Let’s be clear: there is nothing “ghetto” about Black celebration.

We have always turned milestones into moments. Baby showers feel like album release parties. Graduation cookouts rival wedding receptions. And prom? Prom is our red carpet. Our soft flex. Our proof that no matter what, we’re going to pour love and resources and style into our kids.

You might see a balloon garland. I see intention. You might hear a DJ. I hear joy. What looks “extra” to someone else might be the only time a child feels fully celebrated.

And that deserves reverence, not ridicule.

A Home That Holds the Moment

There’s something deeply beautiful about these send-offs happening at home. Not in a ballroom, not in a hotel lobby—but right there in the spaces that shaped us. The porch with the crooked step. The living room where we opened birthday gifts. The kitchen where someone yelled, “Close my fridge!” every summer.

When we decorate those spaces for prom, we’re not just making things pretty—we’re turning memory into legacy.

And even now, more than a decade later, I can close my eyes and picture that day. The color of the carpet. The way the wind caught my dress. The stretch limo waiting like something out of a movie.

Prom was the big event. But the send-off? That was the soul of it.