Dreams Are Pretty Big for Little Contestants in the ‘Missy’ Stakes
“C’mon, Maria,” the proud father said. “You know the words. You know how the song goes.”
After a little more encouragement, Maria Eneida Hawkins favored her guests with a rendition of “New York, New York.” Softly she spoke the lyrics, whispering more than singing.
Start spreading the news
I’m leaving today. . . .
Maria spoke a few more lines, but she couldn’t remember it all, or maybe didn’t want to. Someday Maria may leave Escondido and take a bite of the Big Apple. Already she has had a taste of Hollywood.
Then again, she is only 5 years old.
Maria Hawkins is a star of sorts--certainly to her parents, Chris and Eneida; to her 16-year-old sister, Rita; to her agent Iris Burton, and to the directors of little-girl beauty pageants throughout Southern California.
As of 10 days ago, Maria had entered 19 such pageants and won 12--all of this in only one year of competition. She also is usually named the most photogenic. Along with a collection of Cabbage Patch dolls and My Little Ponies, her bedroom is bedecked with more than 50 trophies, plaques and tiaras.
There’s no doubt about it; Maria is a pretty little girl. She dazzles pageant judges with her big hazel eyes, long lashes, thick coppery-brown hair, soft olive complexion and lively smile.
“She’s the most gorgeous little girl I’ve ever seen,” gushed Burton, a Los Angeles-based talent agent who represents about 75 child clients. “And she’s just starting out.” Maria has taped a TV commercial for Kellogg’s cereals, her first and so far only professional job.
Maria and her parents have big dreams. Maria, who in September will enter kindergarten at a Montessori school, says she wants to be a movie star when she grows up, and her parents are encouraging and cultivating her ambition.
Her Brazilian mother, Eneida, 38, spoke with a thick accent: “If she wants it, if it is what she really likes, I think I would like her to be like a star in the movies and on the TV.”
“Maria was a miracle for me. She keeps me going,” says Chris Hawkins, who covers four states selling earth-moving equipment
for the Terex Corp.
Hawkins, 62, explains that, shortly after Maria was born, he suffered a heart attack and underwent triple bypass surgery. He says he believes that by promoting Maria in beauty pageants, spending thousands of dollars in entry fees and travel and hotel costs, he is helping her in the long run. “The chances are rather slim that I’ll be around when she reaches 18 or 19 years old,” he said.
“She’s got God-given talent and physical attributes and I think she just might as well capitalize on it,” Hawkins said. “She is taking ballet and tap dancing, and she likes to sing.
“We’re not forcing her into anything,” he stressed.
This was what the Hawkinses were saying two Wednesdays ago, only two days before the start of the “America’s 20th Century Beauty Pageant” last weekend in Anaheim. Having won the title of “Missy California 20th Century Queen” earlier this year, Maria would be competing against girls from throughout the country to be the national “Missy” queen. (America’s 20th Century Beauty Pageants, based in Brea, is one of many such enterprises awarding national titles.)
Maria Hawkins dreams of stardom, but so do a lot of other little girls, and a lot of big girls too. More than 150 girls and women gathered at the Anaheim Hilton Hotel for the America’s 20th Century Beauty Pageant. They range from the babies in the “teeny” division (ages 3 months to 2 years) to the young women (age 18 to 26) in the “miss” division.
Friday would be the interview day, Saturday the swimsuit competition and Sunday the party dress (or evening gown) contest.
Pageant director Mike Manikas instructed the 10 judges--all of whom work in the entertainment and advertising industries--to look for beauty and “naturalness” with the younger girls. No makeup is allowed, he says, because “we want the little girls to be little girls.”
Like the other “missies” (ages 3 1/2 to 5 1/2), Maria wore a polka dot Mickey Mouse outfit provided by the pageant, with a sash identifying her home state and a button signifying her as contestant No. 20. In all, there were 21 girls competing for “missy” queen.
“Naturalness,” like beauty, would prove to be very much in the eye of the beholder. Would the judges give high or low marks to the girls who were bashful and quiet? What about the littlest of the “missies” who first asked a chain-smoking judge for a cigarette, and then borrowed a pen instead and proceeded to mark up the tablecloth, and then announced that she had to go to the bathroom? At the age of 3 1/2, what could be more “natural”?
Before long, it was Maria’s turn. After 19 pageants, Maria knew to look at the judges and smile. While some girls couldn’t come up with their first names, Maria enunciated: “My name is Maria Eneida Hawkins.”
But then she began drawing blanks. When the judges asked her what city she lived in, and to name her favorite ride at Disneyland, she had the same response: “Umm, I don’t know.” She never stopped smiling, and the judges moved on to contestant No. 21.
Then, on Saturday, came the swimsuit competition--the first chance for the girls to take turns on the runway.
Chris Hawkins said he couldn’t understand the reasoning for a little-girl swimsuit competition. Manikas, serving as the emcee, joked about it, describing one girl as “a perfect 22-22-22.”
Then it was Maria’s turn. She didn’t seem on the verge of tears like two other girls, but she wasn’t as poised as some others. Her sister, Rita, noticed that she didn’t do her modeling “turns.”
Midway through the pageant, the Hawkins all agreed that Maria wasn’t at her best. Chris said she had been in a grumpy mood. Eneida suggested the girl was still tired and out of practice because of a recent vacation to Brazil, Maria’s birthplace. Rita said she seemed shy.
To have any chance of winning, they agreed, she would have to do better. But then, Chris Hawkins added, “You never know what the judges are looking for. You never know.”
On Sunday morning, things were looking up--sort of.
At a pageant breakfast, Maria was awarded the titles of “Most Adorable” and “Most Photogenic.” All of the “missies” received titled awards--it is part of the pageant’s format.
Manikas points with pride to the fact that none of the younger contestants go home from his pageants empty-handed--even though some of the titles (such as “Living Doll,” “Precious Girl” and “Little Pixie”) are awarded largely at random. “The reason people enter pageants is to win,” Manikas said. “We don’t say, ‘Thank you for coming, goodby.’ ”
Maria’s “Most Adorable” title might be considered arbitrary, Manikas said, but the “Most Photogenic” is not. The pageant photographer chose Maria because of her looks and a studio portrait submitted by her parents--one of those photos that prompts a second look, because Maria at first glance resembles a teen-age cover girl.
“I know,” Rita said, laughing. “I showed that picture to my friend, Bobby, and he said, ‘Oh, I want to go out with her.’ I said, ‘Wait a minute. This is my 5-year-old sister.’ ”
The party dress competition began. Most of the girls were dolled up in lace and ruffles with thick petticoats, lining up like a row of bright flowers in pinks, yellows, reds, whites, purples, greens and blues. Maria wore a pink dress that her mother had bought in Brazil.
“And here’s another cutesy-wootsy little girl,” Manikas would say as he introduced another contestant. Then he would crouch down and ask the girl a few simple questions.
Maria came out with a big smile. Manikas asked her to name her favorite movie star.
“Brooke Shields.”
“Is she pretty?”
“Yes.”
“Are you pretty?”
“Yes.”
“Are you pretty just a little or pretty a whole lot?”
Maria paused. “Maybe not a whole lot. . . . “
Manikas assured her she was pretty a whole lot, and then sent her down the runway. This time she looked at the judges and did her modeling turns.
Monday was the grand finale--the coronation of the America’s 20th Century Queens and their Courts.
All the “missies,” wearing their party dresses, were introduced. Then the pageant directors gave them small teddy bears while they waited in the wings with their mothers.
Eneida Hawkins waited with Maria, while Rita sat in the audience. (Chris Hawkins missed the coronation because of a business meeting.)
His voice rising and falling to increase the drama, Manikas began to announce the runners-up for the America’s 20th Century Missy Queen.
As the countdown began, Rita grew tense. She gripped her hands together and trembled as Manikas moved from the fourth, to the third, to the second, to the first runner-up--without naming Maria.
There was still the chance that Maria would be named as 20th Century Missy Queen. Manikas paused, and the 6-foot trophy was brought out to the ramp.
And here she is. . . .
“Contestant number 17! Raneesha Sanford of Pomona, Calif.!”
Rita shed a quick tear. Her voice broke as she talked about how sorry she felt for her little sister--how it was the first time in 20 pageants that Maria failed to at least be a runner-up.
Eneida Hawkins maneuvered through the crowd holding Maria’s hands. The little girl wore a sad expression, but she hadn’t cried, her mother said. Eneida Hawkins pointed out that Raneesha Sanford had been a runner-up to Maria for the Missy California title.
Maria moved from her mother’s lap to sit at the now-vacant judges table. Sadly she watched the coronation of all the other queens and their courts.
“I didn’t win anything,” she said. “I didn’t win any trophies or flowers or accessories.” The last word was slurred--a tough one for a 5-year-old.
But what about the trophies for “Most Adorable” and “Most Photogenic”?
She pointed at the stage. “But this is for the whole pageant!”
Maria stayed at the judges’ table for another hour. When all the winners, from the “teeny” baby to the grown-up “miss,” were clustered together for a group photo, Maria moved closer and leaned on the stage to watch, still wearing her glum face.
Before long, Maria rejoined her mother and sister. She was feeling better.
“Now can I have a Popsicle or something?” she asked.
She was asked if she felt like singing a song. She sang three children’s songs in Portuguese, and then fairly belted out an American standard--all the way to the part that goes “and it’s one, two, three strikes you’re out at the old ballgame!”
Then Maria and her family left the pageant to look for a Popsicle or something.