On Saturday my daughter participated in a recital at her preschool.  I was looking forward to it, but tried to manage my expectations.  At her first class performance in December, she didn’t even go on stage.  We were late due to rush hour traffic and my daughter clung to me the entire time in the rented space at the senior center.  She  refused to be put down, much less sit with her classmates or get on stage.  I attribute her behavior to a) a very different environment and b) the event starting at 7 pm- her bedtime.  It was a bad combination for a newly minted three year old.  So when I got an email that the end of the year performance would be at her school on a Saturday at 11 am, I was hopeful.

Three days before the performance, her class was fooling around with the decorations.  In fact, they were often fooling around during rehearsal.  Polina’s role was the grey wolf in The Three Little Pigs.  Her teacher assured me that she knew her lines, but when I asked her at home, she said, “I don’t know” and blew on me.

As we approached the school the day of the recital, Polina insisted she did not want her father to see her dancing.  “Nooooo,” she whined and pushed her father away.  I told Peter to go in a different direction and to meet us at the school.  All I could do was hope that she would settle down.

And she did.  When we entered the school, it was a familiar setting and Polina got her groove back.  Peter found a good seat and Polina did not protest.

“All artists please come to the front,” called the music director in Russian.  I had never thought of preschoolers formally as artists before.

Polina sat in front with the other children.  When everyone was called on stage for pictures, she followed.  While the other children stood straight and smiled at the cameras, Polina bent forward and covered her mouth with her hand, a posture I was familiar with.  It is her way of conveying cautious interest.  As the cameras flashed, there was Polina, covering her mouth, index finger and thumb almost pinching her nose.  I would post the picture here, but since there are children beside her in the picture, I cannot without asking each parent’s permission.  Instead, I post what the kids were up against.

During their first song, a Russian version of The Wheels on the Bus, Polina stared at the audience.  While the other children sang and moved their arms, Polina stood still and fixated her dark eyes on something or someone.  At least she didn’t cry.  Or run.  That’s progress.

As the recital went on, Polina grew more comfortable.  During the dance routines, she smiled ear to ear and danced.  She looked like she enjoyed being on stage.  And when it was time for her line as the grey wolf, Polina missed it the first time, but with her teacher’s encouragement, she looked straight at her and proclaimed it loudly the second time.

In childhood, perhaps more frequently than in adulthood, you can see a spirit’s growth.  I wasn’t as proud as I was pleased, and humbled.

All of the students, in fact, did a fantastic job.

The last performance was of a tale about a fox and a bear that gives a taste of Russian culture.  The bear felt lonely and went to the fox to ask for her hand in marriage.  The fox laughed at the bear and said she could find someone better.  Later, the fox reconsiders and goes to bear, who denies her hand in marriage.  The bear reconsiders and goes back to the fox, and so it goes, until the fox realizes that family is more important than love.  The final scene shows the fox and bear arm in arm with the fox (played by a girl) wagging her index finger and giving the bear her two cents.  I couldn’t help thinking- “This is what we’re teaching our preschoolers?”  It’s a stark contrast to the princess fairy tales propagated in the US.  But indeed, they are right.  If we waited for perfect love the human race would go extinct.

After the recital, one of Polina’s classmates buried his head in his mother’s lap.  He did great during the performance.  His mother asked the theater teacher a question about remembering lines.  The teacher commented that remembering their lines wasn’t as important as their behavior on stage.  Knowing how to behave on stage, and the boundary between the stage and the house- that is the lesson.  It dawned on me that this required great self-control: you’re on stage, you may not want to be on stage, but here are your lines and this is how you behave, in front of an audience, whether you like it or not, and you’re only three years old.

It occurred to me that at this age, theater wasn’t so much about art as discipline.

I couldn’t be prouder of Polina and her classmates that everyone held it together for an hour and a half and four group performances.  That is a lot to ask of 3-4 year olds.  These children who were tearing down decorations and fooling around a mere three days earlier pulled themselves together.  They realized the importance of being on stage, and you could feel the audience’s recognition of everyone’s accomplishment as well.

Polina was quiet after the performance.  I could see that she was tired.  No wonder.  It had been a long day, and it was only 1 pm.  We celebrated at our regular hangout at the Indian buffet.  I bought her a peony at the farmer’s market nearby.  I didn’t take any pictures because I wasn’t thinking like a blogger, but as a proud mama.  Polina fell asleep in the car on the way home.

It was a perfect ending to a beautiful day.