HIYA! WATHA

What’s this? Two blogs in a week? Stop it and be nice. I recently returned to old hunting grounds, not far from where I spent many happy years as head of a Primary school. I was browsing in a book shop when the young female bookseller asked me if I was me.

She asked if I remembered her. We established that I am me, and after a huge act of imagination on my part, I could see that the charming young woman could perhaps have once been one of our many lively and engaging primary pupils from about 20 years ago.

Taking a risk, I asked what part she had played in Hiawatha.

She beamed.

‘Nawadah! I was Nawadah! The story teller! And I went to university and did drama because I loved it all so much!’

I’m proud of us then. The KS2 play was my passion, and Hiawatha was one of the best. A parent who grew Christmas trees for a living gave us 10. We hung them from the roof in the local  Art’s Centre theatre. The smell of pine filled the auditorium. Native American tribes crawled on to the stage through the pine trees which rustled and shimmered as the lights gradually grew stronger. 

‘Listen to these wild traditions

To the Song of Hiawatha’

In the unlikely event that any of the cast members reads this, or perhaps remembers being in Boudica, Sherwood, Pied Piper, Valentine Grey, Jason and the Golden Fleece, Circus Rumpus, The Ugly Caterpillar, Cautionary Tales, or Boss Lady, feel free to reminisce by contacting me. I might even have a photo!