On the First Night of Hanukkah...

Every year at about this time, with the onset of the Christmas season, the news media makes overtures to the Jewish community, presenting images of Jewish families celebrating the festival of lights, Hanukkah.  The Jews, so it seems, are coping well with the dominance of Christmas, despite the fact that it dwarfs their celebration.  But are appearances reality?

Santa Claus was probably the first Christian symbol to penetrate my psyche and tell me I stood outside of the cultural norm.  From an early age I knew all about Santa.  I understood that he was the embodiment of good and that if you crossed this old man, you wouldn't profit.  So, from the beginning, I tried to understand why Santa didn't stop at my house on Christmas.  "Was I bad, undeserving of toys?"  "We are Jewish.  We don't believe in Santa," I was told.

But Santa was everywhere, how could I not believe?  Steadfast in my belief, I pondered logistical considerations.  If Santa was flying around up there, how did he know not to stop at our house?  Dazzled by the holiday spirit, I supposed that Santa and his reindeer knew to leap past our house because bright Christmas lights appeared miraculously on our rooftop on Christmas Eve, spelling in gigantic letters, "JEWS."

Later, when I was certain Santa was a fabrication, I felt superior to my Christian friends, because long before they had a clue, I knew there wasn't a Santa.  I managed to cope with Santa Claus.  As I grew older, however, I found other aspects of Christmas just plain isolating.  The Christmas gaiety at the malls, the music and decorations (not to mention Santa Claus beckoning us to come sit on his lap), all this didn't speak to me.  And my parents didn't help matters as they took a defensive and meta-narrative approach to the whole thing with their constant holiday critique judging decorations, for instance, on their tackiness factor. 

In looking back I think there was both envy and disdain for Christmas.  It was not easy being outside the norm, not embracing the biggest holiday of the year and how much easier it would have been to be like others around us.  But, at the same time, there was a sense of superiority and feeling that we held a depth of understanding that evaded others.

As fate would have it the family I am raising, like so many other Jewish families, has increasingly incorporated this gaiety (in particular the multitude of lights and even silver foil) into our Hanukkah celebration and we have found ways to keep ourselves occupied on Christmas Day like fleeing to Chinese restaurants with other non Christians.  Last Christmas Day I'm proud to say that I savored my Chinese food with both Muslims and Jews at the table.  We all came to the dinner, served by Chinese, knowing what it is like to be a religious minority and appreciating the insight and knowledge that accompanies our positioning.

The holiday season is a propitious time to attempt to understand the position of others who do not celebrate Christmas or have little means to enjoy the material goods that surround the holiday.

(excerpted from Ace Magazine, December 1994)