There were a few unexpected, but adorable interruptions.
A small boy dressed as a parrot, took off his parrot head mask on stage. While his friends danced, he ran around the stage, mask in hand, giving teachers the slip.
A couple of kids ran for their lives during the stage smoke effect. Although the teachers managed to coax them back on stage, they were till the end, with terror stricken faces, looking all around ready to fly again at the first sign of danger.
And one little child decided to remain in the safe arms of her teacher. No, she was not going on the big scary stage.
All through, the teachers were very understanding, allowing them to be the little children they were. How different from my own school days.
I remember practicing for my UKG school day program. I was then 5, the same age as Liana is now. I still recall the teachers walking around the little dancers with rulers and hitting little legs for missteps. Back then, it was an accepted part of the school life system. Oh, the atrocity.
When Liana and her friends came up on stage they were a confident bunch. They were not afraid of making mistakes. There were no teachers walking around waiting to glare, punish or correct.
Liana and her generation is definitely luckier than mine, if only in that one aspect.
Teacher's today talk about how impossible it is to control students. Now that students can no longer be corrected with a rod, they reminisce about the good old days - days when parents questioned their wards what they had done wrong to be punished. And maybe punish them again for having been naughty in the first place.
In a rare twist of fate, classrooms now put up 'Help line' phone numbers for students. They can reach out, in case a teacher violates the code. Inevitably, certain students take a teacher for a ride. Personal vendetta, sadism and powerplay at times end a good teachers career.
From personal experience, I can only sympathize slightly with today's teachers.
Most working women back then were teachers. A teacher's job is still believed to be best for a woman of family. She gets to go to school with her children, and get back home with them. She gets the same holidays, the long summer vacations. No late hours. Sounds wonderful.
Except, teaching involves more than just teaching from text books. It involves children - their tender feelings; their overall development. And children need to be handled with a lot of tenderness, understanding and affection.
But lady teachers carried rulers. The docile ones hit with the flat side. The more willful ones used it vertically.
The male staff carried bamboo sticks. The docile ones hit on the palms. The vicious ones hit on the back of the palm.
The flesh used to turn a rebellious Green, and hurt to touch - for days.
And each gender used their weapons with no thoughts as to its necessity or seriousness of offence. There was little opportunity for discussion or questioning to see if there was any need for any caning.
Even a humble, invisible teacher riding a bicycle to school became a mighty tyrant on campus, rocking a bamboo stick in his hand.
Why did even a Crafts teacher carry one? Can creativity be brought out by a cane?
The Math's teacher hit children on the head with a wooden compass for being slow to work out a problem. My! Did that help!
The P.T teacher stood at the foot of the stairs as the bell rang after lunch, hitting kids left and right for not being in the class when the bell rang.
The Science teacher pinched the forearm as the students writhed in pain. She never raised her voice, but continued the vicious pinch until a good minute had passed.
They did it, because they could. Because no one questioned the teacher. The teacher - the guru, could do no wrong.
"Make a cut with a blade and apply onion juice, you'll fall sick immediately," spread like wildfire before his class. Some attempted even this, hoping to escape foreseen caning.
A bit of correction, for something serious is part of a teacher's job. But only if they had the best interest of their students at heart. Young children yearn for a role model, someone to recognize their talents and to encourage them with words of praise and positive criticism.
He already had a troubled childhood, and had no one to turn up to fight for him. And so the teachers whacked him on passing by to keep their rod in shape. Even if they hadn't helped him, they could have spared him.
Others of course might have different memories of the same period, depending on their own experiences.
I had a huge fear of speaking up. I grew up comfortable in my inconspicuousness. So during school no one knew I had any talents that could be nurtured and brought to light. And so year after year I remained invisible. One shouldn't have to be academically brilliant, socially affluent, or exceptionally talented to be known to one's own teachers.
Teachers can be the real person in an unreal world, a safe haven for students who come from various situations at home. Teachers, if they wished, can make a difference with the huge responsibility they willing took upon themselves in the name of career. They can mold lives, they can help change the future. It all begins with being approachable, being unjudgmental, and having a genuine concern for the welfare of their students.