We don't all celebrate Christmas
Let me start this with a clarification. I am not a soldier in the war against Christmas. I have no problem with Christmas. It just isn’t my holiday. I am in the minority here as a Jewish American, and I may roll my eyes when the Christmas music starts playing the day after Halloween, but I am not campaigning for the death of Santa. I really don’t care. But every once in a while, it’s nice to hear someone acknowledge that Christmas is not the only holiday.
I had two interactions recently, both at grocery stores, that have reminded me so glaringly that I live in the South now, and that there are people who have never met a Jewish person (knowingly at least).
On the last day of Chanukah, I was at Lidl, buying out their jelly donuts (the closest thing to an Israeli sufganiya that we’ve found here) for a Chanukah party that evening. As I stood in line to purchase four full boxes of donuts, a woman behind me asked me what I was buying them all for. I said it was the last night of Chanukah and jelly donuts are a traditional treat for the holiday. She followed up with this question:
“And you celebrate that at your church?”
Swing and a miss. I corrected her and said synagogue. This turned into a lovely exchange in which we both acknowledged that the way to learn is by asking questions. I think we both appreciated the exchange, and I walked away with a smile on my face. I hope she did too.
Waiting for something at the Publix pharmacy, the Chanukah sale table was nearby, and I decided to fill up the cart with plates, napkins, wrapping paper and fun Chanukah treats for next year. I’m most excited for the dreidel earrings! The cart was fully stocked with Chanukah goods and my 10-month-old happily sat in the basket playing with the fuzzy menorah print socks.
A woman wearing quite a loud Christmas sweater and sequin reindeer antlers saw my daughter (adorable I know, no bias) and aggressively asked her if she was ready for Christmas. My baby was visibly terrified and started crying. I don’t think it had anything to do with the question – she’s smart but that level of cognition would be a bit advanced – and much more with the delivery. The woman apologized, and I was trying to hold in my giggles at my daughter’s response to her. As a reminder, this is what my cart looked like:
These two incidents really hit me. I definitely grew up, more often than not, the only Jewish kid in my class. I would dread the request every year to get up and explain Chanukah to my classmates. It definitely influenced my decision to move to Israel after college.
Living stateside again, and in the South no less, I know I am in the minority here. And I am okay with that. My children are growing up with a strong Jewish identity, in no small part because my shopping cart looks the way it does. We put a lot of effort into ensuring they have a Jewish identity.
I guess all of this is to say one thing. The holidays are a wonderful, magical time of year, but Christmas isn’t the only one. There’s Chanukah, Kwanzaa, even Three Kings Day, which my son’s daycare teacher taught me about. So maybe instead of wishing everyone a Merry Christmas, try out the more inclusive “Happy Holidays" You may just make someone feel a little less “other."
And on that note, Happy Holidays!
Nili Zaharony is a Go Ask Mom contributor. She is the mom to 3 little ones (ages 5, 3, and 6 months) who keep her constantly on her toes.
