Ihr Kinderlein kommet, o kommet doch all,
zum Kiffen herkommet in Bethlehems Stall
und seht, was in dieser hochheiligen Nacht
das Gras aus Jamaika für Freude uns macht.
Da liegen wir knallbreit auf Heu und auf Stroh,
Maria und Joseph betrachten uns froh.
Die dämlichen Hirten knien betend davor,
hoch oben schwebt jubelnd der Engelein Chor.
O beugt wie die Hirten anbetend die Knie,
erhebet die Hände und danket wie sie,
nehmt unser'n joint stick, fangt an euch zu freun,
stimmt freudig im Jubel der Engel mit ein
Stimmt freudig im Jubel der Engel mit ein.
These lyrics mean something extra to me. I can hear them only in little voices coming from the back seat of a blue/green VW as the little brother is sleeping in a car-seat and I am oompah-ing in the front seat while driving to the Valley Forge Christian Academy in Phoenixville PA. My two little girls are practicing for the Christmas Pageant and they are trying to perfect their German pronunciation. Miss Schlenker is a stickler, and she has taught them well. I am learning the sounds by rote, just listening to them sing.
Thinking about that cheerful business brings to mind so many school show-time memories. At that time there were maybe 99 students in that school, ranging from grade one to grade six. I knew each of them quite well. Really quite well. I was their art teacher.
As their teacher, I earned tuition for my two (later three) children, and, as importantly, a great deal of personal experience in the wonders, mysteries, and frustrations of children from ages 5 to 11 years of age. One thing I learned is that boys are awful between the ages of 9 and 11. They have all the energy and smarts in the world and none of the tact. They are monsters.
Another thing I learned is that children are the greatest artists of all, no matter the sex and no matter the age. No matter if they are little monsters.
I brought in sloppy jars of paint and did they ever paint! I brought in my cat and they painted wonderful pictures of my cat! The sixth graders asked for oil paints. I gave them each acrylics and a shingle and a couple of brushes. They worked hard with preliminary drawings and diligent sketches and then made amazing pictures.
I brought in bits and pieces donated by a company that punched out formica forms. They made assemblages of these various forms that would have delighted Picasso! Would probably have made him jealous!
I brought in clay, and wood, and copper, and then fabric, and crayons to make wax resist batiks. I brought in nothing that I associated with the usual public school art curriculum-- it was my mission to open their minds to the wideness of art. I think I did pretty well, actually. (Not by smarts, but by passion, and a strong disillusionment with the art classes I remembered from elementary school.)
One of our projects was really HUGE. It took months to complete. The students were avidly interested all the way through. It was a puppet show for a special Art Night for the Parents. We made puppets first: we used papier mache to make heads and then we sewed the bodies and glued them onto the heads. Then we wrote plays! The Academic teachers helped with that. Then we built sets-- large cardboard boxes with backgrounds and props and holes underneath so that arms could come up and work the puppets. Then we developed voices for the puppets (some by this time already had some voices.) And then we practiced-- a lot. And fixed things -- a lot.
Of course we were not really ready when the assembly came along. But, then, troupes of real actors are never really ready, are they, until the show goes on and they get a feel for the performance?
Opening night! Lots of bumbling around with boxes. Some help with cues and with arranging puppeteers. I was backstage so I am not sure how the parents ever saw what was going on. If I had been in the audience I would possiblly have sat back in my seat and just listened rather than standing up and trying to see. (After all , the parents had probably heard the script practiced at home.)
But we put on all five shows and got a big ovation for each one. The kids did their parts with gusto, and the puppets performed adequately. The parents clapped, and we were all the wiser for our efforts. I have no idea whether it was fun for the parents.
But think what the children gained!! They had these "art objects" to keep (until the mice got into the heads and made confetti of them), but also they had found out about papier mache, sewing, dialogue, creating sets, rehearsing, performing, and getting it all together for a one-time-performance. This is a lot to learn when you are eleven, or ten, or nine, or eight, etc.
It was certainly worth it. I often wonder where my students are now. They are in their forties or fifties by now. They've probably met nine year old boys they didn’t like very much. But they probably loved them. Hopefully, they saw that they were artists -- the best kind of all. Beasts or not.
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