On Saturday, February 10th, 2024, I attended the Queen of Hearts dance, or QoH, at Needham B. Broughton High School. I know, I know, traitorous–how could I?? But don’t come at me yet. Listen, it was for research purposes. I was infiltrating the castle in order to investigate and expose the deepest, darkest secrets of our #1 opp. You’re welcome. Without further ado, I bring you my exposé on Broughton’s QoH: 

QoH is centered around a court of potential queens. Girls from all grades can be nominated for the court, but only one senior can be crowned. All the girls who do not receive the crown experience a crushing disappointment that may very well take the rest of their lives to recover from. To be on this court is the end-all-be-all, the epitome of life in the castle. Broughtonites live and die by the dream of achieving the crown. The heavy weight placed upon the queen’s head is not a burden; it’s a symbol of Broughton culture, where the toxicity may just seep through the crown into the queen’s head. The research is still out on that one. And for the males who can’t be crowned, they hope to escort someone on the court and live vicariously through their date. Does Broughton consider this feminism?

Broughton High School is quite literally a castle, so naturally, their biggest dance of the year takes place in the school itself. Annually, the Holliday Gym is transformed into a mystical far-away land, notably Rapunzel’s Palace this year. Yes, you read that right–Queen of Hearts takes place in Broughton’s gym, though not the same one where their basketball teams frequently lose to Enloe. That second gym is likely ill-suited to host a dance, as it’s probably contaminated with too much shame from their athletic defeats. It’s not a figment of the imagination – Broughton can really afford to have two gyms, yet for some unfathomable reason, decides to throw a formal dance where the floor is sticky with sweat. 

QoH caters to Broughton students perfectly- it’s basic. But for the more intellectually advanced Enloe scholars, QoH is not up to par. There’s dancing, talking to friends, and eating the bad snacks that are provided simply because the wrappers are purple. How egotistical. Who chooses pretzel goldfish over regular ones just because of how the package looks from the outside? Clearly Broughton never got the memo for “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Coming from the evidently better Charity Ball, QoH is boring. There’s a severe lack of activities to do for those who don’t feel like getting their toes crushed by the herds of people jumping up and down and screaming at the top of their lungs in the name of “dancing.” It wouldn’t kill Broughton to throw in a small hockey rink or pair of fake crutches. 

As soon as I crossed the threshold into enemy territory, the air shifted. It wasn’t that I suddenly sensed danger–it was more like… pretentiousness. The attitude of superiority wafted down the halls, covering every inch of the school. Where was it strongest, you may ask? Well, the live band, of course. It’s just like Broughton to totally disregard damage to their students’ hearing and book the loudest band possible. I’ll give it to them – Broughton is cunning. The band was no doubt an attempt to do something strategic, though I can’t tell you what. Maybe they were trying to prevent people from talking, as it was impossible to hear a single word. Or maybe they were trying to make QoH seem less like a middle school dance. If that was the intention, I would not call it a success. 

Another purposeful decision was to require breathalyzers for all attendees. Only, they wouldn’t show any result, and after ten tries on one, I asked to use a different device, which let me through after the first attempt. Maybe that first breathalyzer was thrown off by the fluttering of eagle wings in my chest. What can I say, my Eagle Pride is just that strong. This hurdle wasn’t Broughton’s only effort to keep me out. In fact, they cared so much that I had to get an assistant principal to sign a form and provide her personal phone number, vouching for me that I wouldn’t wreak havoc at the dance. 

The elation over Broughton’s failure to weed out undercover spies like myself was short-lived, because I didn’t stay at the dance very long. Nobody does. Broughton must know that everybody favors the Village District over the castle. If there’s one thing Broughton does right when it comes to QoH, it’s that it helps support the local economy. The real activities don’t occur in the gym, but rather at various fancy restaurants, like Goodberry’s and Chick-fil-A, before and after the dance. 

So there you have it, the ins and outs of Queen of Hearts. It’s Broughton, so of course the dance is lame. Alas, despite all my efforts, I did not manage to find the answer to the age-old question at the center of the universe: what even is a cap? The answer probably lies deep in the castle, not to be seen from their shallow exterior. Maybe the school has secret underground tunnels – something to consider next year. Until then, enjoy this revelation on QoH, brought to you by the Eagle’s Eye from the comfort of your own screen.