It took the irresistible rhythm of the "Cha-Cha Slide" to flood the dance floor at La Fontaine Bleu in East Baltimore. Slinky in shimmery, revealing gowns and impossibly high heels, some 50 party girls hopped to the left, hopped to the right, momentarily released from the challenges of young, disadvantaged motherhood.

For one enchanted evening, there were no dirty diapers, housing concerns, money worries, family strife. Instead, it was a night to take part in a ritual that millions of high school students enjoy every spring. After early doubts, months of preparation and anticipation, Baltimore City's first Family Support Center Prom was really happening.

For Erica Campbell, the 22-year-old mother of a little girl, the prom reclaimed a piece of her youth. "It's great. A lot of us didn't graduate from high school," she said, after having her formal prom portrait taken. "I don't regret having my daughter, but I do regret that I didn't finish high school."

Like most of the prom guests who became pregnant and dropped out of school, Campbell was determined not to let early stumbles keep her down. She turned to Bon Secours, one of nine Baltimore-area Family Support Centers, a state-funded program administered by Friends of the Family. At each center, GED courses are offered as well as parenting and health classes for parents of babies and toddlers and expectant parents. Campbell received her degree last December and will soon enroll in a dental hygienist training program at Baltimore Community College.

The prom idea was hatched last fall at the support center serving the Druid Heights, Reservoir Hill and Upton (DRU) neighborhoods. "We never got a chance to go to our own proms," explained Taleala Rivers, a few days before last week's big event. Rivers, 18, has a 2-year-old son.

Her friend Tammy Dyson, a 19-year-old mother of two and another GED candidate at the DRU center, was skeptical at first. "I didn't think it was going to actually go through," she said.

Her doubts were understandable, said Tracia Bennett, DRU's service coordinator and program manager. "A lot of times the ladies have had disappointments, one on top of each other. They didn't truly believe it was going to manifest into anything."

But as students took control of fund-raising efforts, and word spread among the other centers, the prom began to look real. A student pizza sale that raised $900 proved the planners were serious. Bennett and other administrators were persuaded to pitch in and help with logistics, finding a venue and DJ, seeking contributions and other necessities as students continued to raise money.

It was important for participants "to be made to feel special [because] if nothing else, they are real good parents," Bennett said. And for one night, "they would not be moms and dads getting spit-up on their clothes."

At a modest $20 apiece, ticket sales were slow at first, and then, as word spread that this was a cool thing to do, ballooned to about 250. For Jamese Douglas, who attended classes at the Park Heights family support center, getting on the prom train was a simple matter. "I didn't have a chance to think. My best friend who goes here thought about it for me," she said. Currently a nursing assistant who studied at Baltimore Community College, she hopes to enter Virginia Polytechnic Institute as a freshman this fall.

In the weeks leading to the prom, donated gowns, spangly and lacy, sultry and sedate, poured in. Other prom requisites, including limousine service, corsages, hair styling, manicures and tailoring, were offered free or at a reduced rate from businesses near some of the support centers. A theme was chosen, based on the hit Shalimar song "The Second Time Around."

Planning and attending the prom would show students that adult responsibilities don't preclude having fun, said Linda T. Harvey, director of the Park Heights family support center. "It's interesting to see how excited they've gotten about the prom."

The anticipation, both delicious and bedeviling, was half the fun. "I'm really stressing," said Rivers, in a way that suggested "stressing" before a big night is not necessarily a bad thing. As the occasion drew near, she had a recurring dream, that she would break a heel on her shoe in front of everyone.

Her shoes intact, Rivers arrived at the prom by limo, wearing a tiara. Tammy Dyson, 19, resplendent in white, brought her fiance, Brandon Oliver. Ruth Allen, a 26-year-old mother of six who hopes to become an accountant, came with her husband, Thomas Dargan. They were dressed in matching cream-colored satin, from head to toe.

Women used to jeans and T-shirts arrived with hair swept up, make-up applied and shoulders sparkle-dusted. Young men, several of whom are also Family Support Center students, wore outrageous zoot suits, glittery vests and white tunics. Everyone was giddy with the spectacle of it all, and as guests arrived, cameras flashed, and friends embraced.

Some of them had first arrived at a support center as new or expecting parents who couldn't read. Now, after adult education classes and GED courses, they've received their high school equivalency degree or plan to in the future. For many, getting the degree is a priority only after finding shelter or tending to a sick baby. In a realm where goals are set so slowly and modestly, pulling off the festive prom was a huge accomplishment, said Bennett, the support center administrator. "For us to make it happen is like blowing it out of the water. I mean seriously!"

Amid the festivities, there was also an air of solemnity, most apparent in the room where a photographer made portraits of the guests. Standing solo, with other girlfriends or with boyfriends, the young women looked at the camera without smiling, calling to mind those stern images immortalized in sepia by photographers a century or more ago. This was a moment of high dignity in the students' young lives, and they wanted it remembered that way.

After a dinner buffet of beef, chicken, sheet cake and soda, the Sapphire Ballroom was mobbed again. Dancing to "Set It Off," revelers shouted and punched their fists in the air, drawing closer and closer to one another. Circles formed around individual dancers who let loose their best moves, arching shoulders back and strutting proudly. Teachers, tutors and administrators also stepped out in a group celebration of determination and accomplishment.

The next day, Jamese Douglas wanted to return to the ball. "It went wonderful. I woke up this morning, and I wished we had another prom," she said.

It was different from going to a club or a party, Douglas said, "because we got a chance to dress, act like ladies, and have a good time ... it was a good occasion, a good event, where you knew you could be safe."

Soon, Douglas, 20, hopes to move to Virginia with 4-year-old Jasmine. At Virginia Tech, she wants to prepare for a law career. "My child gave me strength to boost myself up. I have to do it for me and her," she said.

That belief, alone, was reason for Douglas - and her teachers - to celebrate.