Zoom carol concerts and drive-in nativities: how Britain’s schools are celebrating Christmas

It’s a Tuesday evening in Perthshire and Jason McAuley, director of music at Kilgraston, an independent school for girls, is praying tomorrow it doesn’t rain. “I’ve got 300 singers to record in a marquee and because of Covid I can only do 10 at a time,” he says. “If it rains, we’ll hear it on the recording. If it’s particularly windy, we’ll hear that too.” There’s no time to record again if the weather doesn’t cooperate.

At least he has already got the brass section on tape. “We recorded it one player at a time, each child playing by themselves behind a screen,” he says. “Unfortunately the fire alarm went off during Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee. But there’s nothing we can do about that.”

The annual nativity and school carol concert is one of those indelible childhood rituals, scorched into the memory like the smell of fireworks on a cold November evening, or a first trip to the seaside. Nearly everyone can remember winding tinsel round their head to play an angel, or the manger toppling over at a crucial moment. And adults who haven’t stepped inside a church in decades still feel their heart slow at the sound of Silent Night and recall every word to O Come, All Ye Faithful – well, the first verse, at any rate.

Yet this year, nearly half of primary schools in Britain feel unable to put on a Christmas show or carol concert in light of Covid restrictions on singing and live performances. It’s a huge loss, and an understandable one given the circumstances, but McAuley refuses to be beaten. “It would be easy to say, ‘We can’t do this and we can’t do that’, but we have to accentuate the positive. It’s vital for the girls’ enthusiasm. Besides, their grannies want to see something.”

He’s far from alone. Up and down the country, determined teachers are devising ways for the show to somehow go on, even if Away in a Manger is out (no singing in large groups is allowed indoors), Mary and Joseph must remain socially distanced, and the audience cannot watch productions in the usual way.

At Endike Primary Academy in Hull, one of the worst affected places in Britain, with an infection rate three times the national average, each class is recording their own Christmas song, equipped with handmade costumes and props, with a different song being released each day during December on the school’s Twitter account.

In Norfolk, John Stephens, head of music at the Inspiration Trust, is creating a 60-minute film made up of pre-recorded songs and dramatised Bible readings from 13 primary and secondary academy schools in the trust, while in Sudbury, St Gregory CEVC Primary is producing its own Zoom carol concert, featuring a mix of carols recorded in class bubbles and live readings that will be broadcast, among other places, to local care homes.

This sort of inspirational attitude is common among teachers, of course, but it’s been sharpened this year by the pandemic. Many teachers cite the fundamental place the nativity and carol concert have in the rhythm of the school calendar, but in a year ravaged by lockdown, loneliness and uncertainty, the power of both as symbols of connection and continuity feels more necessary than ever.

“We are very conscious there are lots of things this year that children are unable to do with their families,” says Daniel Woodrow, headteacher of St Gregory which contains one of Suffolk’s 10 specialist units for vulnerable children. “We wanted to give them as much normality as possible.”

“It’s important that we keep what we can of Christmas going,” says Trina Smallwood, head of Year 3 at Endike.

“While the children are in school, learning the songs, then the world outside is not there. They’ve forgotten it.”

Nativities are for parents as well as children, adds Smallwood. “Normally we would ask parents to get involved by helping with costumes and props but quite a few will have lost their jobs or be facing financial difficulties, so this year we’re not asking them to contribute in that way – my class, for instance, are singing Frosty the Snowman and it’s just them in white T-shirts. But we have asked parents to get involved by learning the songs at home with the children. It’s important everyone still feels part of a community.”

Music, singing and the live arts are exactly what people reach for in times of crisis. “We keep talking about social distancing but it’s such a problematic term,” says John Stephens in Norfolk. “What we need is physical distancing but social cohesion. We can still love our neighbours. We can still collaborate with each other, and music and performance are the perfect mediums to help us understand our current situation.”

Singing is also good for pupils’ mental health. “During the first lockdown, the Italians were singing from balconies,” says Kilgraston’s Jason McAuley. “In Britain people performed on YouTube. The creative arts have really spoken to people this year and especially music because it so easily expresses our emotions.”

The show McAuley is putting together sounds ambitious even by professional standards: a specially written 90-minute Covid Christmas movie, featuring hand gel that smells of frankincense and myrrh, involving all 300 pupils and staff, including the school’s choirs, orchestras and jazz bands. All the musical elements and carols have to be recorded separately, including a grand finale involving the entire school lip synching on the lawn while speakers blast out a recording of them singing Somewhere In Your Silent Night “because we can’t have that number of people singing outside in case someone has Covid and the wind is blowing the wrong way,” says McAuley.

The end result will be shown to parents on a giant screen in the school car park, drive-in movie style. “It’s a massive jigsaw puzzle that only I seem to know how to put together,” he says. “But I just want to see something magical happen with our Covid Christmas this year; for everyone to be proud and encouraged by what we did.”

Retooling the nativity, Covid-style, has also introduced children to new skills, such as operating professional recording equipment or acting in front of a camera.

Mainly, though, there is a feeling that the story of the first Christmas is just too important to be jettisoned. “Year 1 tend to see Christmas as being all about Santa and presents,” says Lizzie Davey, Year 1 head at Dulwich Prep Cranbrook, an independent school in Kent. “It’s important at that age to introduce them to the meaning of the nativity.”

The symbols and the stories are part of Western culture. And, carols, of course, can produce feelings of pure joy or, in the case of something like In The Bleak Midwinter, a rare opportunity for stillness.

“We’ve all got our memories of nativity at school,” says Woodrow. “I was the thief who stole the star from the top of the first Christmas tree. You can look at when advent calendars are available in the shops, or when Tesco have all their stuff out.

“But nativities provide a special feeling. They bring the story of the first Christmas to life and they are linked to some of our first memories. The nativity is when Christmas really begins.”