A School Assembly....Twice the Performance

Today I had been cordially invited to attend a school assembly / musical performance by my eight year old son Gabriel. Eager to see my eldest born stand atop risers and wow me with his melodic abilities I accepted the invitation.

As I dressed for this auspicious occasion this morning, I wondered aloud to no one in particular why schools do not do more of these "performances". I recall doing two or three per year, wherein parents and grandparents were invited with cookies and punch to follow.

Bringing my camera along to document the occasion as any good mother would, I hurried out the door with my three year old and infant. Upon my arrival at the school cafeteria I realized this performance would not be like the assemblies I remember from my youth. Parents were lined up on the sides of the room, and all available seats being taken by the students. I selected a spot along the wall where we would be able to see Gabriel enter the room, and fortunately he was placed in the front row so we could see his face throughout the performance.

The principal began to explain that in light of Monday having been Martin Luther King day, the children were prepared to sing "We Shall Overcome" as sung by Peter, Paul and Mary and so the performance began. As I listened I pondered what exactly it was that Mrs. Zent's third grade class was about to overcome....longer recess times? No more homework? Better cafeteria lunches?

I was pulled from my deep thoughts by a voice, higher in pitch than the other voices. Further, the voice seemed to not really be singing the same words the others were singing. I glanced around the room to see who or what could be making that noise, and stopped when my eyes landed on my three year old daughter, Capi.

Capi had evidently been so moved by the song that she began to sing a made up song that had no words, only noises. On and on she went, until she felt compelled to perform an interpretive dance along with her impromptu solo. Several adults within eye (and ear) shot snickered and pointed at my budding performance artiste'.

Not every mother is so lucky to see two of her children perform on the same day, in the same venue.