Santa and the Dominant Culture

An Open Letter for People Who Stop My Daughter In The Grocery Store and Ask Her If She's Excited For Santa:

First of all, nice to meet you. Up until five seconds ago we were complete strangers. I'm sure if it were any other season other than Christmas you'd avoid my friendly glance and most likely would not return my greeting. But now that you're here, in our faces, spreading your good cheer, asking Dew Drop repeatedly, "Are you ready for Santa?" I guess there's no way to avoid you and all of your holiday weirdness.

When Dew Drop looks at you like you are crazy she is right. We don't celebrate Christmas the way you do. She has no idea who you're talking about when you talk about Santa. Sure, she's seen the image of the fat man wearing a red suit, but she calls him The Christmas Boy. It's no accident that she doesn't know about Santa- we're protecting her from mass consumer culture with all of our might. She doesn't see any advertising, and that's no easy task. We work hard at it.

Has it ever, in a million years, occurred to you that not everyone is just like you? That people have their own belief systems- and that those belief systems are just as important to them as yours are to you? That those belief systems were chosen with thought and care, and that they're sacred? And that by ignoring those belief systems you are fundamentally disrespecting that person and everything that's important to them?

When I try to step in to the conversation you're having with my daughter about Santa, to try to give you a grownup wink that we're not celebrating the holiday the way you do (wink wink nod nod), you ignore me. I try to change the subject or to politely dodge your Santa questions on Dew Drop's behalf, then you pull out of your hat what you think is the one thing that every child will respond to:

"Are you being good for Santa?"

So you've resorted to scare tactics? That's why you shove Santa down our throats? To hope that with the thought of some weird old fat man watching over our every deed we'll follow directions and do what we're told? And what if we don't? Then no plastic toys? That's just sick. Ho ho ho.

I'm protecting my daughter from the idea that gigantic blow up Santas in your yard are something to value. Those inflatable Santas were all most likely made in China by people who probably have no idea who Santa is let alone revere him, and who work long hours in sub-human working conditions to make this Very Important Idol even if in the early part of the morning the Santas are sad piles of plastic on your frozen lawn because they were unplugged from their extension cords that connect them like umbilical chords to coal burning power plants.

Imagine, if you will, a world where we all embraced loving our earth with the same gusto as we celebrate Black Friday? If rather than people getting tazered or trampled to death to enter a Wal-Mart they were waiting in long lines at their chance to dismantle a hydro-electric dam so that a river may run free? Or what if the day after Thanksgiving was the day we woke up at midnight to sort out the recyclables at our local landfill- work that can only reliably be done by hand? What if we were all chomping at the bit to take down barbed wire fencing to create greenways for wildlife? What if?

One more thing? Spare me the grinch shit. What a tool to enforce your view of reality and your dominant culture! It reminds me of "If you're not with us then you're against us." It's just completely wrong and I resent being forced into some kind of Grinch role. I'm no Grinch. I bet I've given more to charity in the last year than you have- and donated my time volunteering in my community while you were out shopping buying a bunch of shit destined for the landfill. So who's the Grinch now, baby?

Sincerely,

Mother of Dew Drop,
creek walker
cloud admirer
soil builder
defender of what I hold dear.