(Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this column are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of The Augusta Press.)
The so-called “woke mob” is finally coming after Christmas using the same labels and twisted logic it has applied to Columbus Day, Independence Day, Veterans Day and Thanksgiving.
According to that set, Christmas is a paternalistic, misogynistic and racist holiday based on Colonialism.
They tell us we shouldn’t watch “It’s A Wonderful Life” because there are no Black characters, that Santa labeling kids “naughty or nice” ruins self esteem, that certain Christmas carols should be verboten because they celebrate the birth of a “son” when Jesus could have actually been transgender and the saying “Merry Christmas” is an affront to every group that was once the target of Western colonists who forced Christianity on the natives at the point of a dagger.
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Then, of course, comes the virtue signaling. Instead of a Christmas tree, we should have a “Holiday tree” that celebrates inclusivity. We aren’t to spin the yarn of Santa to our kids lest they be traumatized in later years at being lied to. Finally, we are told not to play Christmas music because Christians have “hearing privilege” (I’m not making this up), that is they get to hear celebratory music of their religion at the expense of Atheists, Jews and Muslims.
The Center for Racial Justice in Education has a whole website devoted to instructing people how to celebrate the holidays in a fashion as bland as melba toast dipped in canola oil.
The reality is that Christmas in the United States has always been the only religious holiday that is open to all faiths to celebrate. Christmas is not entirely about spreading a religious dogma. It also celebrates spreading a spirit of hope, unity and goodwill.
Anyone who tells you that that Christmas is somehow racist should be informed that James Brown’s Giant Black Santa on Walton Way was once the most popular Christmas attraction in Augusta, second only to Fat Mans.
Really, this whole Cancel Christmas movement is a symptom of what I believe is a larger trend, and that is the total abandonment of spirituality among an ever growing segment of our society.
According to a recent Pew Research Center study, three in ten Americans have absolutely no religious affiliation what-so-ever. In my opinion, the void created by a lack of any spirituality begins to be filled with angst and frustration that is then projected at the people who do not have such a void.
I pity those people.
We already live in a world that is unfair, unforgiving and sometimes brutal. For those of us who have faith, Christmas can be a place of shelter in the cold, a time for unconditional love and a time of healing.
I can offer the following example:
My father was the classic Clark Griswold at Christmastime. On Christmas Eve, he would sit up until the early morning hours making giant displays of our gifts from Santa.
While my parents did not have the means of others, Dad could make a handful of toys look like the interior of FOA Schwarz.
In the summer of 1984, when I was 12 years old, Dad succumbed to cancer. As a family, we were adrift. We knew he was sick, but the concept of him actually dying at age 33 was totally alien to us.
As Christmas approached, we were in a fog. It was like we kept looking at the window expecting to see Dad’s face there because he had misplaced his house key.
On Christmas Eve, my Mom arrived home with a trunk full of toys, a fever and the flu. She went straight to bed. My grandfather called and offered to come over and help me put together my sibling’s toys, who were five and nine at the time. I told him I didn’t need help.
“Well, I understand, you’re the man of the house now,” he said.
When the kids went to bed, I set about making a dazzling display that would make my dad proud.
When I was finished, hot tears began to flow down my face.
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I wasn’t crying for my dad, I knew he was with Jesus celebrating the Lord’s birthday in Heaven. No, I was crying out the little boy and allowing in the man I was becoming.
The next morning, I heard squeals of delight coming from the den downstairs, and I felt the same glee I knew my dad was feeling in Heaven. We had turned the corner and some semblance of normality was returning.
As kids, we buy into the innocent lie of Santa. Later we grow up, and we spin the same yarn to our kids. Then we become grandparents, and we dote on our progeny while reminiscing about cherished memories. Finally, we go on to become cherished memories ourselves.
Christmas is about the circle of life, and it is the time we can set aside to enjoy life, revel in the beauty of God’s creation and show love to family, neighbors and community alike.
The malcontents can continue to cancel everything that triggers and offends them. They can cancel the Tooth Fairy for all I care. But they can’t take away Christmas, at least not from me.
Scott Hudson is the senior reporter for The Augusta Press. Reach him at scott@theaugustapress.com
