A super spy white cat girl with sparkles and a ninja jump out of my car and dash into the church building. It is the night of the Halloween carnival and they have been looking forward to it for at least a month. My feet are slower, in part because I have to shut the car doors that the others left open, but also because my head is full of worries and things not yet done. If I had only consulted my own desires, I probably would have skipped the carnival this year. But if I had, I would have missed out. The carnival is nominally for the kids, but there truly is something for everyone.
The event is wrapped around food. Many good events are, because people enjoy sharing food. In this case there were ten different pots of soups, chilis, and curries lined up. All had been donated by members of the congregation. Sign-up sheets were sent around at church for weeks in advance until enough people volunteered. Howard was already there with our curry. He’d been simmering it all day to make sure the flavors were right and that it was sufficiently spicy. For those who like things even hotter, Howard had a bottle of Dragon’s Breath hot sauce in the pocket of his mad scientist lab coat.
The opening prayer was said and the line began to form. The potluck meal always takes place before the carnival games. This gives the parents a fighting chance to shovel some real food into small mouths before the candy is dispensed. Unfortunately the effort is undermined by the fact that the second half of the food sign-up is all about the desserts. Those are laid out right after the big pots of chili. Many a child has been known to pass on all the dinner food only to load up a plate full of dessert. By “many a child” I mean “my kids in particular.” Some years I have tried to fight the tendency. Other years I just let them eat whatever they choose, promising myself that I’ll feed them a solid breakfast the next morning.
This year I opt for the latter, and I’m pleased to note that my two boys actually select real food. Link selected his dad’s curry. I warned him it was spicy, but he merely answered that he knew. He sampled it and said “Oh man! That’s good!” A moment later he winced a little and said “But then it goes up to your brain!” He nibbled a few more bites before abandoning the curry in favor of a dessert.
As I ate, I watched the joyful chaos surrounding me. All of the kids, all of the teens, and about half of the adults were in costume. Many of the kids were running around in the big multi-purpose room. I watched a pair of Wolverines converse over the pots of chili. Iron Man dashed by followed closely by a pair of princesses. Ninjas and pirates engaged in epic battles full of running and giggling. Holly Golightly was carrying water back to her table. Superman and Wonder Woman strolled arm-in-arm. I was one of the boring mundanes. I thought about claiming myself as a browncoat based on my brown leather jacket. Unfortunately I lacked the props to really carry it off. I was just me, in full observer mode.
As I watched, I began to think about how amazing this particular event actually is. There were about 200 people participating together in an event which depends upon volunteerism to run at all. People volunteered to bring food. The people on the activities committee volunteered to organize. Someone had to come early and set up nearly 30 banquet tables, then cover them with brown paper, and scatter candy corns across them for decorations. Decorations adorn the walls as well. Other people stay after the event to clean up. The teens plan and then run carnival games for the younger kids. There are adults guiding that process to make sure that the games are ready on time and are run safely. In past years the evening has included shadow plays, skits, or pinatas. It is a lot of work to put together and yet the work is spread across so many willing hands that no one is crushed by it.
The more I thought about this Halloween Carnival, the more amazed I was by it. The fact that such an event can exist without drama is a testament to the amazing neighborhood community in which I live and participate. It was not always this big and amazing. I remember when we first moved here, how the teen groups griped about running games for kids. I remember that there were minor squabbles about who had to run the thing. There were some years when the carnival almost didn’t happen at all. None of today’s teens complain about running games because they grew up playing them. The event has a momentum of it’s own. Everyone knows ahead of time what their jobs will be. The people on the activity committee have in past years been in the youth leadership or have been among those who bring food.
But even more than the momentum of tradition, this carnival builds upon all the community connections that are built all year long. We live next door to each other. Our kids go to the same schools. We meet on the street, at the grocery store, at church, or during church assigned visits. Our church is one that emphasizes reaching out to others, helping each other, getting to know each other. We try to extend this community to those who do not attend church or who attend other churches. The fliers listed the carnival as a neighborhood carnival to which all were welcome. Because of all this community building during the year, people are willing to put in extra effort to make the carnival happen.
The carnival is worth the effort. Just as I was scraping the last of my soup from the paper bowl, the carnival games were opened. Children and teens scattered to the classrooms surrounding the big multi-purpose room. Many parents went as well, particularly those with small children the shepherd. My kids all ran off without me. With the room less crowded, I was able to observe as groups of people gathered, talked, and broke apart to form new groups. I finally got out of my chair to go participate actively instead of passively. I can entertain myself for hours just people watching, but it was in participating that I found the true value of the community. I had several conversations that eased my heart. I now have new information to apply to the challenges my kids are currently providing for me. It is so nice to discuss these things with other parents who are or have been in places similar to mine.
It takes a village to raise a child and the carnival gave me a chance to reconnect with my village. I see many of these people frequently, but we are all running around getting things done. The carnival is unique because the only agenda is social. It provides time to just visit, to commiserate, to catch up.
The closing events included prizes for adult costumes. This was announced in advance to encourage adults to dress up. There weren’t prizes for kid costumes because “all kids are winners.” This was a nice solution. Besides all the kids got prizes from the carnival games. The last event was a costume parade. All the kids lined up and snaked their way past the tables of adults. They marched triumphantly, joyously. The costumes showed the ravages of the evening. Make-up was smeared, wigs were askew, many a shirt had smears of chocolate or frosting, some eyes were red with the aftermath of a child size tragedy, but they marched smiling and waving.
Then the event dissolved into scattered conversations, parents trying to herd children into vehicles, and the clatter of tables and chairs being stowed into their racks. Within 40 minutes the space that had been full of activity and laughter would be dark, clean, and empty. I took my crew home. We went through the spoils of the evening. My daughter had harvested candy corns from the tables and packed one of her white gloves full of them. She ate a few, but the rest we stowed for later. I hustled them off to bed. They needed to be rested for trick-or-treating the next day.
People think that Halloween is about costumes, candy, and creepiness. For me, Halloween is about community. It is groups of people stepping outside their regular lives. It is ringing the doorbells of your neighbors and smiling. It is the school parade and waving not just at my kids, but also the kids from church, neighborhood, and friends. It is trailing your six year old son down the street as he collects candy and stopping for a moment to say hello to the parent traveling the other direction down the street. It is the Halloween Carnival where dozens of people work together to create an event for everyone to enjoy. Such things take hard work and effort, just like building a community. But it is effort well spent.