Winter Solstice in L.A. Is a Gloriously Polyglot Celebration

Never mind that the Jews became the “Yew-ish people” in Dinora Cruz’s reading of the Hanukkah story. That Adriana was busy nursing her baby when her turn came to talk about Ramadan. That Carolina was so nervous when she took the mike to explain the traditions of a Mexican Christmas, all she could remember of the speech she’d practiced for hours was the part about how happy she was to be spending this holiday with her parents for the first time in seven years.

None of that bothered the preschoolers at St. Paul’s Presbyterian Church in Southwest Los Angeles, or the group of neighborhood women who had gathered with them.

It was one of those mornings that makes you marvel at the magic of Southern California’s holiday season. We may not have sleigh rides or snow, but what we do have is so much more colorful:

An African American Presbyterian church--which also hosts an Ethiopian congregation--with a preschool that includes a little blue-eyed blond, singing Christmas carols, led by a woman in African garb, accompanied on piano by a teacher from Korea whose first name is Easter, serenading an English class taught by a Jewish woman, whose students are immigrants from Mexico, Ethiopia and El Salvador, whose children sport Lakers jerseys and a Cal State Northridge T-shirt.

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The holiday performance was the brainchild of Linda Gross Lucas, who has spent five years teaching English to immigrants for the Los Angeles Unified School District. Her students are mostly young mothers, eager to learn enough English to help their children succeed in school. They meet every morning at St. Paul’s, a Crenshaw-area church with a long history of community outreach.

This is the time of year, Lucas said, when many of her students pine for familiar holiday rituals and families left behind. “I wanted to think of a way for them to share their stories, but also to learn about all the ways we celebrate the holidays here. And I wanted to include [St. Paul’s] children, because that’s where you really have to start teaching about tolerance and appreciation of differences, when they’re children.”

Many of Lucas’ students balked; few felt comfortable enough with their English to stand in front of a group and speak. “A lot of these women are basically illiterate, from small villages where they never had a chance to go to school,” explained class aide Patty Flores, who tends the children of Lucas’ students while the women learn English. “To get up in front of a microphone and speak in English . . . that takes a lot of courage, more than some of these women thought they had.”

But then, it had already taken a lot of courage for many of these women to come this far.

Like the young mother of five who walks to class, toting five small children up and down eight blocks of hills. And the woman whose domineering husband often refuses to let her leave home. She is so desperate to learn that on the rare days she is allowed to attend, she writes down every English word she hears, so she can practice privately at home.

And like Zemam, a single mother of three who came here from Ethiopia with no money and no education. She comes to class whenever she can slip away from the hot dog cart she runs in West Los Angeles to pay her youngest son’s college tuition. And Evelyn, a lawyer in her native El Salvador, who is spending her first Christmas here. She read a page-long speech she’d written in Spanish and translated into English. She stumbled sometimes, and her accent made it hard to understand. But this much was precise: “I am very happy to be here. This a new chance for me, new traditions, a new land.”

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The preschoolers sang their Christmas carols lustily, but mostly fidgeted through the other holiday speeches. Afterward, the kids skipped samples of candied yams and latkes, in favor of good old American cookies and punch. But there were signs their teachers are not yet done.

“I was hoping you’d sing that song about the dreidel,” one of the preschool teachers said to Lucas, as the children lined up for treats. “Something about dreidel, dreidel, dreidel . . . I remember it from when my kids were small.”

A few moments later, the tape-recorded strains of the Hanukkah favorite filled the space where “Away in a Manger” had just been sung. And the Christian teacher practiced the lyrics, as the Jewish teacher passed out gold-covered chocolate coins to her students.

So if you see a bunch of little black children munching on gelt and singing about dreidels, just wish them Feliz Navidad. And a happy Hanukkah, fruitful Kwanzaa and blessed Ramadan.

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Sandy Banks’ column runs on Sundays and Tuesdays. Her e-mail address is sandy.banks@latimes.com.