In The Hill, Three Kings Dance The Snow Away

Top: of Perick Appo, Luis Santiago, Jade Santiago Rojas and Javier Villatoro (center) of. Bottom: Gaspar (Library Technical Assistant Jeffrey Panettiere) and Domnika Dawson. Lucy Gellman Photos.

The peals of jarana and quijada floated through the basement of Wilson Branch Library, wrapping the room in a bright, tinny sound. On a raised wooden platform, four-year-old Nnenna Ijeh began to tap her feet, spinning slowly in place. The music swelled; snippets of Spanish filled the air. As she moved, a gold crown glinted atop her head. 

 Across the room, Gaspar, Melchior and Balthazar stood against a blazing, yellow diamond of a star, exactly where they needed to be. 

The plunging temperatures were no match for three festively decorated kings—and many more musicians—Monday afternoon, as dozens of families attended Wilson Library's now-annual Three Kings Day celebration. Held each year for families in the Hill neighborhood, the event fêtes the breadth and depth of a diaspora, with crafting activities, a lightly sweetened rosca de reyes and literary gifts for each child who comes through. 

Top: Luis Chavez-Brumell, Jeffrey Panettiere and Magguri Buenaño as the Three Kings. Bottom: Nnenna Ijeh feels the music.

This year, it received support from the Community Foundation for Greater New Haven and the Progreso Latino Fund, which in the past two decades has grown Latino philanthropy efforts in New Haven. In addition, musicians from Son Chaneques Rebeldes performed for almost 90 minutes, bringing the spirit and sound of Veracruz, Mexico to an ice-slicked Howard Avenue. 

The group, which plays at festivals and events across New Haven, is an offshoot of the Semilla Collective that has been studying Son Jarocho for over two years. Monday, their set included traditional and well-loved melodies like "La Bamba" as well as their own interpretation of “La Rama,” normally a processional song, calling for global justice, unity with nature, and an end to the violence and bloodshed in Palestine.

“It’s just a great way to keep the tradition, the culture alive,” said New Haven Free Public Library (NHFPL) Deputy Director Luis Chavez-Brumell, who grew up celebrating Three Kings Day in New Haven, and for years worked at Wilson as the library’s branch manager. “I think it’s wonderful to have this sense of community and share the culture with those of different backgrounds.”  

Top: Diana and Alba, who did not wish to give their last names. 

Monday, Chavez-Brumell and fellow librarians made sure they were building those cross-cultural bridges, from bibliophiles-turned-magi to an audience set up with adult- and kid-sized chairs and twin wooden platforms called tarimas for Son Jarocho dancing. At a crafting table on one side of the room, seven-year-old Alba unfolded a gold crown and got to work, decorating it with stick-on rhinestones and tiny, gem-like flower patterns. 

“She’s born here in the U.S., and this is the only way to introduce her to Hispanic culture,” said her mother, Diana, who had bundled up to make the event with Alba, her husband and their one-year-old daughter Celeste. While the family did not grow up with the tradition—Diana is Ecuadorian—she does observe All Saints Day, and wanted to experience the wonder and joy of Three Kings. 

Three years ago, they made the same trek to the library, delighting then-four-year-old Alba as the wise men paraded about in sumptuous robes, bringing gifts to every child. When they saw it was happening Monday, they were excited to return. 

Top: Yari Ijeh and her son, Nnaji. Bottom: Even tiny kings were welcome at the celebration. 

Now older and wiser herself, Alba turned her attention to the side of the room, where Chavez-Brumell stood with librarians Magguri Buenaño and Jeffrey Panettiere in long, colorful and drapey gowns that turned them instantly into wise men. After the three stepped up to play the kings—Buenaño is a librarian at the Ives Main Branch and Panettiere is a library technical assistant at Wilson—a line of gleeful kids formed in front of them. 

"Are they the real kings?!" Alba asked skeptically over the steady build of strings and footfalls, approaching the magi with dainty, small steps that seemed weighted (in reality, the trio received costuming help from Children’s Librarian Michelle Ziogas, some curtain patterns and a particularly memorable Savers haul). "Which one is Gaspar? I just want to know which one is Gaspar."

Just across the table, seven-year-old Malayah Denby joined in, picking out blue and green rhinestones for her crown. Her grandmother, Hill resident Mona Lisa Edwards, watched with a smile beneath her mask, eyes crinkling gently at the edges. When she learned that her grandchildren wouldn’t have school on Monday, she turned to the library as a de facto community center, and discovered a learning opportunity waiting through its doors.

“It’s important to me, because she needs to know about all cultures,” Edwards said as Malayah showed off a new copy of the Longest Hidden Picture Puzzle Ever that she had received from the kings. While Malayah and her siblings don’t normally celebrate Three Kings Day, many of Latino her classmates do. Edwards wants her grandchildren to see and understand other kids’ different traditions, she said. 

Back across the room, members of Son Chaneques Rebeldes spread their arms wide and lifted them up and down in a flying motion, as if they were soaring through the air. As they strummed and sang, the lyrics to “El Son de la Guacamaya” filled the room. The song is part of the group’s reverence for the natural world: la Guacamaya comes from the Nahuatl word for parrot. 

As the temperatures continued to plummet outside, it made the space feel cozy, almost tropical. Attendees shed their winter coats and thick, wool and down layers to dance in cotton t-shirts and sweaters. Listening in the audience, a handful of them lifted handkerchiefs and scarfs that trailed like wings through the air. Shaking off her nerves, seven year old Domnika Dawson joined in, her feet tapping to the sound. 

The child of Haitian immigrants, Domnika later said she was excited for two reasons: Monday was both Three Kings Day and her birthday. In addition to her new books, she received an unpacked gift: a dance from Caspar, surrounded by musicians who seemed more like long-lost family members.  

She wasn’t alone in her excitement; it felt as contagious as giggles that intermittently bubbled up through the air. Vuela, vuela, vuela pa' la playa! musicians sang, extending their arms until attendees pretended to fly. Nnenna, who had left the tarima only once during the afternoon, swayed along, raising her small arms as she stomped her feet to the strings. Ahí nos miraremos, cantando en la guacamaya! 

As she watched, mom Yari Ijeh beamed, letting the lyrics wash over her in the front row. Born and raised to Puerto Rican parents in Bridgeport, Ijeh grew up celebrating Día de los Reyes Magos each year, with a box of grass or hay that she would slip beneath the Christmas tree. The grass is meant to feed the camels and horses that carry the three kings into Bethlehem.  

“As a kid, my parents would bring us to these kinds of events,” she said. Now, she’s passing the tradition on to her own children, four-year-old Nnenna and eight-year-old Nnaji. In a box of grass that goes beneath the tree, she and her husband also slip a sparkly paper coquí, the tree frog that has become a national symbol of Puerto Rico, so that the three kings “hear the sound of the coquí and they know to stop” for the Puerto Rican children living in the house. 

"For us, it's important to keep the tradition alive," said Ijeh, who also chairs the Progreso Latino Fund, and added that her home is a joyful fusion of Puerto Rican and Dominican traditions. "Our kids need to be exposed to our culture."

“I think it’s important because we get to reunite with people,” Nnaji added minutes later. This year, he said, he asked the kings “for happiness,” for both himself and members of his family. 

As they finished their set, members of Son Chaneques Rebeldes milled around, suddenly more popular than the kings as kids lined up for photos and gently touched the instruments. Musician and organizer Fatima Rojas, who grew up in Mexico and immigrated to the U.S. in 2004, said she was thrilled to be part of the celebrations in a neighborhood that she once called home. 

“It’s just part of our culture,” she said of the music that the group had brought into the library, bridging thousands of miles with their sound. “Music is our culture. We don’t conceive of any celebration without it.” 

The Wilson Branch also holds a special place in her heart: before ever performing there, she was a mom who took her young daughters, Ambar and Jade, to the library for events just like Monday’s. Although both are now in high school, they still practice a tradition that they started as little girls, writing a letter to the three kings before the holiday.