![dragqueen.jpg dragqueen.jpg](/images/stories/articles/pam_felcher/dragqueen.jpg)
One year, the Wicked Witch of the West wheeled along the Boulevard
with an enormous crystal ball that housed terrorized miniatures –
Dorothy, Toto, and the other Oz pilgrims were all cowering on the
yellow brick road within her bubble. Another year, there were several
Menendez brothers, wearing blood covered v-neck sweaters and
conservative haircuts. Then another year, there were groups of huddled
Titanic musicians playing desperately as their ship was sinking (or, I
should say, as the parade was passing them by).
![cher.jpg cher.jpg](/images/stories/articles/pam_felcher/cher.jpg)
Of course, every year there are the requisite six- foot tall,
sherbet wigged, airline hostesses, with their Pez-colored Pan Am bags
and uniforms, a la Boeing, Boeing. And who can miss the enormous
sequined West Hollywood cheerleaders and their muscular calves,
marching like candy canes down the Boulevard. Milkmen and mechanics,
cops and cowboys, nuns and priests fill out the crowd, as do Cher,
Bette Midler, and the Dreamgirls – all looking like cotton candy
confections.
![ophelia.jpg ophelia.jpg](/images/stories/articles/pam_felcher/ophelia.jpg)
I suppose every costume, like every symbol in a dream, is a
revelation of an inner-self, or maybe it's a reflection of the way we
think we are seen, or the way we want to be seen? Well, I am wearing my
witch's hat and carrying my broom this Friday, so I'll let my students
decide what they are seeing. Whatever they think I am revealing to
them, I hope they give me candy.
Pamela Felcher is the English Department Chair at Hamilton High School's Music and Arts Magnet.