Little Voices Building Big Bridges
This article first appeared in an issue of the GIAQuarterly in the Fall of 2017.
“Have fun!” Inevitably, this rule topped the charts every single year at St. Nicholas Church as the children’s choir designed their own guidelines. After a few silly suggestions (“no picking your nose,” “no ninja moves”), the wisdom already present in these young ones helped them identify what would be most important to accomplish our goals, serve the community, keep our bodies healthy, and show respect towards one another: “Raise your hand before asking a question,” “Pay attention,” “No screaming,” “Be on time,” and yes, “Have fun.”
The insight from the diverse group of young voices never ceased to amaze. What comes so easily to the minds of children often feels like the exact prescription for healing our largely divided world. Their presence at both English and Spanish Masses transformed our preconceived notion about what “our” community looks like, sounds like—is. “Out of the mouths of babes” became an all-too-familiar expression during my time with these young people, as I witnessed them teach our bilingual assembly (or, as often referred to, our two communities) learn, play, and sing our church into a greater reality of one community. It became immediately evident that this bilingual children’s choir was an important bridge that links one community to another, English-speaking to Spanish-speaking, providing an example of border-crossing and boundary-breaking right before our eyes, week after week. In an effort to elevate this holy model for all to see, a few practices were of utmost importance.
Get their parents on board. The task is understandably not so simple: on top of juggling homework, sports, and family commitments, how can we expect their schedule to accommodate a mid-week rehearsal, stretching the routine to occasionally include Mass in another language? With patience for the reality of a bustling family life and true passion for this living symbol of cultural harmony, I wrote and spoke to parents frequently, outlining the noble vision of which they were participants, and expressing gratitude at every opportunity. We scheduled rehearsal time to appeal to all: early enough that the Catholic school students could walk to the church from after-care, late enough that the public school students had time to make the trip over. At rehearsal’s end, parent volunteers stayed with the children until all parents were able to pick children up after work. Though these details were often necessary to make children’s choir possible for families, it was always the excitement from the children themselves that encouraged commitment. For them, the experience of children’s choir needs to be both enjoyable and meaningful to inspire camaraderie.
Honor their differences. Kids don’t need another voice in their head telling them how they are different from one another—elementary school playgrounds and overheard adult political conversations provide enough of that backdrop. They do need a place that honors and celebrates the language spoken in their home, as the choir relies on their translating and pronunciation to guide our music-making. They do need a voice to encourage them to describe their home altars so that all children can understand why our church is decorated with candles, marigolds, and sugar skulls during the month of November, to understand how and why we honor our departed loved ones. They do need listening ears to hear their stories and affirming voices that encourage the variety of questions about each other, music, and God.
Celebrate their unity. Though our differences be vast, important, and beautiful, we share so much in common. For my children, the most frequently evident commonality was a deep love of cookies. Snack time was a non-negotiable, and seeing past a purely consumptive nature of their end-of-rehearsal treat was to peer into their gradual bonding together. Snack time was their time to play a game, share their stories about their favorite teacher, tell jokes, and get to know one another more informally. In this space, the divisions between Spanish-speaking kids and English-speaking kids, Catholic school kids and public school kids would fade away. What remained were kids—kids who loved cookies, who asked questions, who played games, who told stories, and who shared the common goal of serving their community through song.
Open the scriptures with them. Sometimes, even adults catch their minds wandering while the ancient texts are proclaimed at Mass. Choir rehearsal is an opportunity to share the Good News by telling the story with words that they can hear. Take them on tours of the church that is their home, pointing out the symbols and stories you come across. Most children could tell you that Jesus died and rose from the dead. Have they heard the story told from someone who looks them in the eyes to tell of their friend Jesus, who once was dead but rose to new life, whose story we see high up on the beautifully colored window panes, whose mother stands across from us in her beautiful, star-covered, blue mantle, whose life of service demands that we, too, love one another enough to wash their feet? Do they hear the stories as though they are a living part of them? Can they ask questions, and connect those stories with the songs we sing, so that they proclaim for and with the community, “Digo Sí, Señor, I say yes”?
Sing songs of many languages and cultures. Even the diversity of our children’s choir is only a subset of the diversity of creation. Allow the music from all over the world to take up a place in the children’s hearts and minds. Teach them about the communities that the music comes from, and that by learning language, culture, and music is a sign of respect and love for one another.
Learn from their example. Watching children learn to live and love one another through their common mission as music ministers offers a hope that the harmony that is possible inside the walls of the church might permeate outside, too. When we encourage the work of these diverse little voices, they become a very big voice, a very big bridge that unites us to one another and to the world, teaching us how to take down the walls we have built instead. And yes, while taking on the weight of this very big task, we can remember to have fun, too.
