A Massachusetts daughter’s gift: Taking my mom to prom would give her back a piece of her lost childhood

Shanniah Delouchrey is petitioning her high school, Blue Hills Regional Technical School in Canton, Massachusetts, to allow her to take her mother to prom despite age restrictions.

Here is her story:

Good morning or afternoon, whenever you’re reading this.

Life has felt like a roller coaster for the last year and a half—for both me and my mom. In the past couple of months, I’ve been diagnosed with anxiety and depression. I’ve gone through three therapists and two psychologists. My mom has faced serious health problems that have forced her to put much of her own life on hold just to keep going. She often talks about when she might pass away and how I’ll need to step up and handle all her responsibilities. She wants everything and everyone to be okay when she’s gone. She talks about making sure we’re financially stable, having a proper memorial for her, finishing school without issues, and being able to pay our bills while still enjoying life.

My mom doesn’t have depression—she’s simply preparing us for the worst because she loves us deeply. Any parent would feel that fear of leaving their children behind without them. I completely understand it.

That’s why I wanted to give her something unforgettable: a memory she never got to make.

My mom never had a prom. She never went to a school dance. She barely experienced high school at all. She got pregnant with my brother at 16 and with me at 18. We grew up more like friends or sisters than the typical mother-daughter relationship—people often mistook us for sisters or best friends. I’m so grateful she gave me life, but it hurts that she had to give up so much of her own so early.

I want to change how people see us. I want everyone to know: that’s not my friend, not my sister, not my cousin. That’s my mother—my birth giver, the woman who raised me.

Her motherhood started very young, and I feel bad that my arrival took away her chance at a normal high school experience. She talks often about missing school, the dances, the games, the simple joys of being a teenager in that setting. She dropped out around 16 or 17 after having my brother, so she never really had those moments—no semiformal, no prom queen voting, no real high school dances, and only mini-league games for my brother.

I decided to give her back at least one night that every teen deserves.

I asked her to be my prom date.

When she found out, she was over the moon with excitement. We went shopping for my prom dress, and the sales associate asked if I had a date or was going with friends. That felt like the perfect moment. I looked at my mom and asked if she knew anyone who might want to go with me. She playfully asked me the same question back. It wasn’t until we were shopping for jewelry that it clicked for her.

She turned red and said, “You want me to be your date?!” I told her yes. She held it together in the store, but once we got in the car, she called her girlfriend and excitedly said, “Shanniah wants me to be her date to prom!” Then the questions poured out: “Oh my God, what am I going to wear? I need a tux! What color? Your dress has so many colors!” She was already stressing about matching perfectly.

About 30 minutes later, we got an email from Mr. Aubrey saying guests over 21 aren’t allowed. My mom sent me a screenshot in total disbelief. She had been so thrilled, and now she was asking what we were going to do.

I sat down and thought hard. Maybe I could write something to persuade the school to make an exception—even if it’s just for part of the night—so she could experience at least a little bit of that excitement and joy.

We’ve reached out, and now I’m hoping others will read this and think about it too. This isn’t just about one dance. It’s about giving my mom a small piece of the high school experience she missed—the kind of night she deserves after everything she’s sacrificed for us.

If anyone at Blue Hills (or anyone who understands) can help make this happen, I’d be incredibly grateful. She gave up so much to give me life. The least I can do is try to give her back one magical night as my prom date—to show her what it looks like, how Blue Hills throws their events, and that she’s not just “mom” or “friend” but the incredible woman who raised me.