Dolls as Jesus, missed cues, vomit... joys of school nativity!
Nativity plays are always a joyous, if at times nerve-racking occasion, for parents - and, indeed, often for teachers and children, says John Dolan, Picture: iStock/posed by models
The lyrics went “Who built the ark? Noah, Noah...” but our teacher knew someone was botching the lines, and had singled me out as the chief culprit.
In my innocence, I thought he wanted me to show the class how it was done.
I proudly burst into song and, sure enough, I had indeed gotten the wrong end of the stick, and warbled “Who built the ark... no-one, no-one...”
The teacher halted me mid-vocal and pointed out the error of my ways, while the entire class erupted into laughter.
That haunting experience came to mind this week, when I watched my youngest perform a solo in her school nativity. Not that she or anyone else involved put a foot, a note, or a word wrong, mind!
The Christmas play is such an evocative rite of passage; it leaves such a mark on our memories, and it’s an experience we get to re-live again as parents.
I have spent the past 15 years attending my children’s nativities, and in some cases, learned every line along with them (thankfully, the Noah song is not a nativity staple!).
It's always a joyous, if at times nerve-racking occasion, for parents - and, indeed, I’m sure, often for teachers and children too. But it’s also an important life experience, and vital that all children get to spend at least 15 seconds of fame on the nativity stage.
One of my boys was a convincing seraphim in his time (warbling “whoops-a-daisy angel,” no less), and his two brothers were variously angels, shepherds, and kings; one memorable time, my youngest lad chewed up the scenery as Herod. Oddly, all my boys have been angels, but my daughter hasn’t (there’s a family joke in there somewhere), although she did once snaffle the coveted prize of playing a teatowel-wearing Mary.
We had witnessed the build-up of excitement in close quarters in recent weeks, as she learned the lines for her latest role - her renditions of Chris de Burgh’s A Spaceman Came Travelling (‘And it went la la la la la la la la la’) echoed around the house for weeks.
The big night came around on Tuesday, and, of course, the entire event went off without a hitch, and every child performed beautifully.
And not a single rendition of ‘When shepherds wash their socks by night...’ among them!
Schools and teachers today are just so much better at staging these kinds of events than they were in my day.
When I was a child, discipline and order tended to be central to any nativity play - and often they were commandeered by a teacher who thought they were Cecil B. deMille, while there was always at least one child who hogged the spotlight, to the detriment of everyone else, as their doting parents cooed in the front seats they had snaffled half an hour before curtain up.
Do I sound bitter?
As well I might.
My main memory of a junior school nativity is one in which I played a Roman soldier - seventh from left, 20-second scene, non-speaking part.
“Hold that spear up high, Dolan,” I can recall the teacher barking in rehearsals , “and don’t drag it along the ground! The Roman army were a disciplined force, not a rabble!”
I can still picture my granny waving at me as I marched into that hall, probably dragging the spear along the ground - but what the hell.
There are myriad tales of school nativity plays where things have memorably gone awry: All that anticipation and pent-up nerves among young children is conducive to the odd blip.
The child was whisked away, the obligatory sawdust was thrown down, and the play resumed without missing a beat, while the smell of sick lingered in the air for the rest of the proceedings.
Actors always warn against working with children and animals, and I recall one tale when a real donkey was used in a school nativity play.
However, said animal steadfastly refused to budge when it got its cue, leaving Joseph and Mary to walk along the stage slowly to the air of Little Donkey... minus the donkey.
That tale is possibly apocryphal, as may be the one in which ‘Mary’ insisted on bringing her own favourite dolly on stage to play the role of ‘Jesus’. All was going well until the ‘Three Kings’ entered the ‘stable’ and the new-born ‘son of God’ burst into tears and told the horror-stricken ‘Joseph’ that she had wet her nappy.
Nativity plays are a great place for the Toy Show Billy Barry types among us to realise their passion for the stage - and equally, they are a good way to give less outgoing children the chance to sample an actor’s life, even for a fleeting few moments.
The Cork Young Offenders actress Demi Isaac Oviawe revealed to the Irish Examiner in 2020 how an unlikely role in a school nativity play ended up changing her life.
She recalled being an eight-year-old girl who lived for the limelight. The school nativity play was being cast. She held her breath. That iconic leading lady role just had to be hers.
However, that year at Mallow No 1 National School, Demi didn’t get the role of Mary, but of one of the Three Wise Men!
Undeterred, the youngster showed her mettle.
“It was the first play I ever did. I was super-heartbroken about being told I was to be one of the wise men,” she admitted.
“But then I realised, every girl wants to be Mary. And I said to myself, if I was going to be a man, then I would be the best man ever - I made sure I had a beard and everything. I loved the whole ‘look at me’ element.”
It was there the acting bug first bit, added Demi. And now she is acting royalty.
App?
