Introduction to the Festival of the Children of Mountains

Festival Rights of the Child
Children's rights, like human rights in general (after all - as Polish educator and paediatrician Janusz Korczak observed - „there are no children, there are people") can be categorised. There would be four categories: personal rights (e.g. a right to life, identity, development or being part of a family),  political or public rights (e.g. a right to express one's own views, or belonging to an association), social rights (e.g. a right to decent living conditions, healthcare or rest), economic rights (e.g. a right to education).

The children from all the Mountains in the World, who come to spend these warm July days in Nowy Sącz acquire one more category of rights: festival rights. Below are some of these: 

The right to rule the town of Nowy Sącz, or at least to rule in the hearts of the town dwellers. This right is officially granted during the inaugural concert in the old market square in front of the town hall, when the keys to the town are handed over. The ensembles are allowed a share of this right on their national days. On the first and last day of the Festival, the power of "paedocracy" is exercised by all the participants.

The right to comradeship, which is probably the most essential right in the Festival of the Children of Mountains. Owing to this right everyone has a chance to find out for themselves that differences in language, clothes, dances, melodies or customs do not necessarily have to be a barrier to establishing most cordial relations with age peers from all the quarters of the globe. Nay, they can be a wonderful reason to do so!

The right to learn at least one new dance is inextricably linked with the previous right. At a children's festival like this there is no room for smoking the peace pipe or burying heavy melee weapons. To show a desire to live with a comrade in peace it only takes a joint dance. Oh wait, make that two dances: his and mine.

The right to be admired. After all, the youngsters practise dancing, singing and playing for hours on end to be able to show the beauty of their culture on stage. And if something is beautiful - as Polish poet Cyprian Kamil Norwid said - it is supposed to be impressive; actually, that is the reason it exists.

The right to a smile. Nay, why not go a step further: the right to laughter and joy. Heart-felt and unbridled joy. Both the age and the circumstances guarantee the exercise of this right. Youth, free from major cares - for after all it is the time of summer holidays - surrounded with other youths. In fact, nothing else is needed for the Festival right to joy to be lived out.

The right to tears. Only seemingly is this one in contradiction with the previous right, and yet paradoxically there is some causality between the two. The more joy one derives from hanging out with similar youths, the more sorrow surges when the time comes to part company with them. In a situation like this tears are by all means justified and legitimised by the Festival rules and regulations.

The right to small pleasures. Such as ice-cream on a scorching afternoon or a swim in a pool. This right follows from... the Festival programme and therefore is inalienable.

The right to learn the history of grandparents, as well as great grandparents, and great great... grandparents. This right - laid down in the Festival rules - is the very essence of the Festival performances. It is of utmost importance, for it is inextricably linked with another right: a tradition-honoured right of our forefathers to defy oblivion.

Enjoy your rights! 

Kamil Cyganik