Competitions An Ordeal For Backstage Mothers

Press, Volume C, Issue 29511, 12 May 1961, Page 2

Competitions An Ordeal For Backstage Mothers

Tensed with anxiety, going through every movement with the dancer on stage, the woman in the wings suffers ail the cold shivers of stage fright, but no-one applauds. For her there is no elation from bright lights, no stimulation from a sea of faces in the audience. The figure in the shadows can only wait and watch; keep a stiff upper lip—and keep out of everyone’s way. She is a “competitions mother.”

When the music stops she sits down exhausted to wait again. This time the suspense is worse. She is waiting for the judge’s verdict. •‘l’m like many mothers,

I die a thousand deaths when my daughter is on the stage. Metaphorically speaking, backstage at the Civic Theatre should be littered with corpses,” one woman said yesterday. ‘‘After all these weeks of strain I now feel heady with relief. All I want now is a cup of tea and my slippers.” Crammed into the weeks of strain were days of searching the town for the prettiest and cheapest materials for three costumes; nights of sitting up till 1 a.m. putting the last stitches into tulle “tutus” and gauze fairy wings; hours of watching practice, and all-time encouragement without any let-up from responsibility to the rest of the family.

Years of being a "competitions mother” can build up an outward immunity to backstage nerves. “I'm used to all this,” said a woman whose third doughter ir now competing. Poised and unflurried, she gave confidence to the child she wrapped in a jacket. Nevertheless, when the results were announced weeks

of pent-up feelings were re-

leased in a discreet squeal of delight and the hug she gave her small daughter, “Competitions are sheer agony for a mother, take it from me.” said a woman who has been associated with Christchurch competitions for

48 years, and has never missed a season. This woman has competed, taught competitors, played accompaniments for them and judged events in other centres.

“When my daughters were performing I had to ask someone else to play tor them. My fingers trembled too much.” she said. “It’s a kind of torture we inflict on ourselves,” another said. "But we have to back up the children. That’s what ‘Mums’ are for.” The women backstage agreed that children who had talent should be encouraged to compete to improve their own work. “But a child should never be pushed,” one of them added decisively. “You must push children along to do things they don’t want to do, otherwise you'd never get them to school,” said the veteran. EDUCATIONAL

Children were all inclined to be lazy, and if they had talent they should be spurred on to compete on the stage. It was part of their education.

Stage work gave children poise and assurance, she said. Competitions imposed discipline, and working for them kept young minds occupied and provided an outlet for energy. Most important of all. competing taught children how to lose as well as win. "They’re glad of it all when they grow up,” she said.

Many a mother who watched competitions from the audience as a child, un-

able to take part herself, feels a deep satisfaction in seeing her own daughter on stage. "That is the reason I encouraged my girl to enter for singing events this year,” a woman said. "It is a way of expressing your own deprivation and giving your child an opportunity you did not have, I suppose. This is my first time as a ’competing’ mother, and I’ve lost half a stone in weight. But my daughter’s thriving on it, and we’ll both be back next year.” Sharing the joys of success and taking defeat with aplomb, backstage mothers will always be there in support of their children. Competitions would be strangely impersonal without them.