My earliest recollection of a Christmas Concert is the Christmas when I was five and not yet attending school. It was held in a country school 2 + miles away from our farm. I distinctly remember sitting on the front bench in front of the stage--green heavy curtains decorated with Christmas stickers just inches away from my nose. I also remember the hiss of the gas lanterns hanging from the ceiling. The one room school was packed-- Mom and Dad, Grandpa and Grandma, and everyone else who lived in the community. Most there had children performing, but some, like the family of 10 bachelors and their mother who often boarded the teacher, were no doubt in attendance.
I know I was first introduced to Santa Claus that night thinking that, for a fact, he sure reminded me of my Grandpa, but being not that well versed as exactly who Santa actually was I thought nothing of it at the time. That is kind of cool that Grandpa was my 1st Santa. He would like to know that I think. ( I think he probably does)
I do know one of the 'littler' kids jumped off the front bench and ran and hid under their mother's chair at the sight of him.
It would be about the last week of November I suppose, when the teacher would give us seat work, and then call us up one by one and designate our eagerly longed for parts for the Concert. Everyone was given opportunities to perform--from Grade One to Grade Nine. Poems, recitations, drills , songs, solos, play parts, and of course, the Pageant roles. Lines for memorization would be written out by hand in plain print by the big kids--the Grade 8's and 9's-- and handed out to each 'star' to take home to practice.
Toward the second week of December the classroom would be changed into a concert hall! Desks would be shoved aside and the stage would be erected by busy fathers who had taken time off from the farm to set the board and plywood platform against one side of the classroom. The wire for the curtains were strung and the piano moved to the correct position. Traditional classes were forgotten but education still reigned as lines were learned, scenes prepared, and music practiced. The creative energy of these productions would out do any digitally enhanced, multimillion dollar Broadway production of today.
I don't know why exactly, nor do I know how, but by the beginning of the last week of practice I would invariably know Everyone's lines, poems, and recitations. I must be an aural learner because I could do this just by listening.The teacher would often have me be the unofficial prompter.
I remember having to run off the stage during a play yelling, "But I don't want to go to bed." There was a time when a boy and myself had to sit on the stage and recite a story about the stars. We acted out Frosty the Snow Man, Good King Wenscelas. We even did Hula Hooping and Square Dancing. Toinettes were played and acrobatics performed. I once presented a poem about teaching a calf to drink out of a bucket with nothing but a an empty pail for a prop.
The concert that I think stood out for me as well as many others in our prairie school, which was performed by predominately children of people from Northern European stock, was the year we presented an excerpt from Uncle Tom's Cabin. I played Topsey.
Costuming would be the primary concern. I have no idea who decided to put 'whatever it was' that made my face look black but put it on I did. I was about 8 years old at the time and the only one of the cast who required the blacking. I do not know exactly how the story went but one of my lines was , " I weren't born. I just grewed." I then broke out in song singing Mamma's Little Children Love Shorten' Bread unaccompanied. For the finale I did forward somersaults across the stage showing aptly fitted over sized white flannel underwear contrasting against my black stocking covered legs. The presentation was a great hit. There was lots of appropriate laughter throughout followed by a great round of applause.
I remember going off the stage and looking for the towels and cleanser that I was to use to get the 'black stuff' off my face. I frantically searched through costumes as I could hear that soon my next on stage performance would be expected--that as a Scottish Highland Dancer.
Now I know that Highland Dancing is not to illicit the peals of laughter as what it received that historical Christmas Concert night. I am sure underneath that layer of black 'whatever it was' my face was glowing red. No doubt that warmth probably contributed to its being even more difficult to remove when the time came.
The story doesn't end there.
There was still the Pageant to be performed.
There were the shepherds' costumes, the kings' garb, and Mary and Joseph's outfits all to be organized. There wasn't a towel or a housecoat left at anyone's home in a five mile radius. The only costumes that were actually made were the Angels', complete with wings , tinsel, and white crepe paper dresses.
As is often the case, the Pageant was presented with the use of a narrator who read the Story as the actors quietly took their places on stage, with various Carols being sung between presentations.
As I, being an Angel, stepped onto the stage singing Joy to the World there was once again a soft titter of giggles passing over the crowd . After a moment or two, however, there was a hush and the Story continued with as much solemnity as it deserved. Away In A Manger got just an extra bit of a high note that night as
the designated Angel from Afar looked lovingly over to the cradle where the Babe was supposedly lying, and saw instead the lost jar of 'whatever it was' one was to use to get the black off angels' faces, if required.
That year's concert was the talk of the countryside well into the New Year.
I believe it was probably the first 'interracial' Pageant on the Prairies-- if not North America.
I am proud to have been a part of it-- intentionally or not.
If you click on the program it will enlarge and you will be able to read it more readily...and even see MY name.
This is the Toy Soldier Play that was mentioned in the program. Guess who the one sitting down is with her mouth open?...blah, blah, blah. ( I can name all the cast here if any one wants to know or want a copy of this.)
Before one projects any type of Sociological slur on this incident, it must be remembered the time in History (50+ years ago in rural Canada) where this was presented. This was a time of limited contact with ANY other race, limited access to cultural differences, with solidly ingrained opinions thought of as truth due to ignorance and genuine lack of understanding , which were not necessarily based on hate, fear or conscious malice.
People often just believe what they have learned to believe until they learn to believe differently
I know I was first introduced to Santa Claus that night thinking that, for a fact, he sure reminded me of my Grandpa, but being not that well versed as exactly who Santa actually was I thought nothing of it at the time. That is kind of cool that Grandpa was my 1st Santa. He would like to know that I think. ( I think he probably does)
I do know one of the 'littler' kids jumped off the front bench and ran and hid under their mother's chair at the sight of him.
It would be about the last week of November I suppose, when the teacher would give us seat work, and then call us up one by one and designate our eagerly longed for parts for the Concert. Everyone was given opportunities to perform--from Grade One to Grade Nine. Poems, recitations, drills , songs, solos, play parts, and of course, the Pageant roles. Lines for memorization would be written out by hand in plain print by the big kids--the Grade 8's and 9's-- and handed out to each 'star' to take home to practice.
Toward the second week of December the classroom would be changed into a concert hall! Desks would be shoved aside and the stage would be erected by busy fathers who had taken time off from the farm to set the board and plywood platform against one side of the classroom. The wire for the curtains were strung and the piano moved to the correct position. Traditional classes were forgotten but education still reigned as lines were learned, scenes prepared, and music practiced. The creative energy of these productions would out do any digitally enhanced, multimillion dollar Broadway production of today.
I don't know why exactly, nor do I know how, but by the beginning of the last week of practice I would invariably know Everyone's lines, poems, and recitations. I must be an aural learner because I could do this just by listening.The teacher would often have me be the unofficial prompter.
I remember having to run off the stage during a play yelling, "But I don't want to go to bed." There was a time when a boy and myself had to sit on the stage and recite a story about the stars. We acted out Frosty the Snow Man, Good King Wenscelas. We even did Hula Hooping and Square Dancing. Toinettes were played and acrobatics performed. I once presented a poem about teaching a calf to drink out of a bucket with nothing but a an empty pail for a prop.
The concert that I think stood out for me as well as many others in our prairie school, which was performed by predominately children of people from Northern European stock, was the year we presented an excerpt from Uncle Tom's Cabin. I played Topsey.
Costuming would be the primary concern. I have no idea who decided to put 'whatever it was' that made my face look black but put it on I did. I was about 8 years old at the time and the only one of the cast who required the blacking. I do not know exactly how the story went but one of my lines was , " I weren't born. I just grewed." I then broke out in song singing Mamma's Little Children Love Shorten' Bread unaccompanied. For the finale I did forward somersaults across the stage showing aptly fitted over sized white flannel underwear contrasting against my black stocking covered legs. The presentation was a great hit. There was lots of appropriate laughter throughout followed by a great round of applause.
I remember going off the stage and looking for the towels and cleanser that I was to use to get the 'black stuff' off my face. I frantically searched through costumes as I could hear that soon my next on stage performance would be expected--that as a Scottish Highland Dancer.
Now I know that Highland Dancing is not to illicit the peals of laughter as what it received that historical Christmas Concert night. I am sure underneath that layer of black 'whatever it was' my face was glowing red. No doubt that warmth probably contributed to its being even more difficult to remove when the time came.
The story doesn't end there.
There was still the Pageant to be performed.
There were the shepherds' costumes, the kings' garb, and Mary and Joseph's outfits all to be organized. There wasn't a towel or a housecoat left at anyone's home in a five mile radius. The only costumes that were actually made were the Angels', complete with wings , tinsel, and white crepe paper dresses.
As is often the case, the Pageant was presented with the use of a narrator who read the Story as the actors quietly took their places on stage, with various Carols being sung between presentations.
As I, being an Angel, stepped onto the stage singing Joy to the World there was once again a soft titter of giggles passing over the crowd . After a moment or two, however, there was a hush and the Story continued with as much solemnity as it deserved. Away In A Manger got just an extra bit of a high note that night as
the designated Angel from Afar looked lovingly over to the cradle where the Babe was supposedly lying, and saw instead the lost jar of 'whatever it was' one was to use to get the black off angels' faces, if required.
That year's concert was the talk of the countryside well into the New Year.
I believe it was probably the first 'interracial' Pageant on the Prairies-- if not North America.
I am proud to have been a part of it-- intentionally or not.
Before one projects any type of Sociological slur on this incident, it must be remembered the time in History (50+ years ago in rural Canada) where this was presented. This was a time of limited contact with ANY other race, limited access to cultural differences, with solidly ingrained opinions thought of as truth due to ignorance and genuine lack of understanding , which were not necessarily based on hate, fear or conscious malice.
People often just believe what they have learned to believe until they learn to believe differently
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