By Linda LaNoue
Contributing Writer
Imagine your first prom in your own school, in your own community, surrounded by people who show up just for you. That is exactly what unfolded Saturday, May 16, at Marshall Opportunity High School.
Two young men greeted each other at the door with a big hug, one of their guardians readily embracing the fellow student. The genuine joy of seeing one another set the tone for everything that followed.
For approximately 40 students, including some who had recently graduated, this was not just a prom. It was their prom, the first held inside the MOHS building in half a century, and the joy in the room was unmistakable.
The theme was Masquerade Ball: A Night to Remember, and the evening was made possible through a community effort. Donors, parents, teachers, staff, and neighbors came together to give these students a night to remember.
Intervention Specialist Marylee Morton emphasized that this was the product of many people. She has been at MOHS for five years, making the hour-long drive from Kalamazoo every day alongside her husband, Joseph Morton, who also teaches there. The seed for this evening was planted more than a year ago, when a few students asked her why they didn’t have a prom at their own school. She didn’t have an answer, but she promised to find out. What she discovered was that there had not been a prom in the building in 50 years.
“I thank God for doing what others thought couldn’t be done,” Morton said. She consulted with her Mom-to-Mom Committee and the Student Council. They gave her the green light and from there, the wheels began to turn.
Morton wanted to include as many students as possible, current sophomores, older students, and recent graduates who never had the chance to attend their own prom. For two months leading up to the event, students voted to select a prom king and queen. She mailed ballots to the most recent graduates and to students who had left mid-year, because MOHS operates on a quarter system.
On the day of the prom itself, Morton prepared a home-cooked meal for her students, the people she considers her own. “My reason for going above and beyond is because some of the students would not experience the cultures, lifestyles, love, and history of others not like themselves if I didn’t put it in their reach,” she said.
The room itself told that story. Custom centerpieces handcrafted by Derricka Smith anchored the tables. A large elevator that sits in the middle of the cafeteria was transformed into the centerpiece of the room, covered and converted into the photo booth backdrop, complete with a balloon arch in MOHS school colors of purple, gold, and green.
DJ Maurice Barry, known as DJ Moe Heat on the Beat, kept the energy going all evening. School Resource Officer Deputy Sheriff Maacah McGee was also on hand, celebrating her birthday on the dance floor. Her presence was warm and celebratory, mirroring the spirit of the night.
This year’s prom king was Aiden Barrett, and the prom queen was Riley Osborne, who accepted the honor with quiet disbelief. “I never in a million years thought that they would pick me to be Prom Queen,” she said.
Her fellow students shared the feeling. “I had the best night ever and made a lot of new friends!” said Zaden Boyd.
Ray’chelle Scott said simply: “Mrs. Morton, you did dope, this is good!”
Riley Fields, beaming on the dance floor said: “I love to dance, this is the best night ever!”
Then came the moment that connected the past to the present. Beloved community member Octavia Turner stepped forward to crown this year’s Prom Queen.
Turner was the last queen to be crowned at Albion Senior High School, over 50 years ago. A proud member of the Albion Senior High School Class of 1972 and a Wildcat for life, she returned that night. “Children first,” Turner said, a guiding principle she holds close. She called her inclusion in this celebration beautiful and meaningful.
The building itself carries that history. The former Albion Senior High School has become the home of Marshall Opportunity High School, and that night it hosted something it hadn’t seen in five decades: the sound of a class celebrating the year together, on its own ground, in its own community.
Morton’s commitment to her students extends well beyond one evening. When the school saw an increase in Latinx students in recent years, she organized a Cinco de Mayo celebration to make them feel seen and welcome. It is the kind of gesture that speaks to who she is as an educator, someone who believes that if something should exist for her students, she will find a way to make it so.
“Everything I do,” she said, “is for the glory of God and for the betterment of the students that I serve with joy.”
