Neil deGrasse Tyson's Controversial Tweet and Xmas History

Neil deGrasse Tyson lit up the Internet and provoked an angry response from some Christians with some controversial tweets poking fun at Christmas. Some pointed out the Pagan origins, the modern-day crass commercialism, and that while it is often touted as expressing universal sentiments, Christmas is in actuality specific only to those of European, Christian heritage.

Responses were quick and caustic. One person called Tyson a "bigotedhack." Others referred to him as "Scrooge" and a "joyless bore." Another said his messages were "unnecessarily provocative."

 

Frankly I don't understand why anyone dismayed with his tweets cares enough to comment. Neil deGrasse Tyson is simply doing what secular Americans tend to do in the midst of all the seemingly-compulsory holiday revelry. Are we cranky goat non-theists (deGrasse Tyson has said firmly in interviews that he is an agnostic, not an atheist) not allowed to have our fun and express ourselves in the ways that best suit us in December? Some people like caroling and making cookies, some like making nerdy, sarcastic quips. Deal with it.

 

But defending deGrasse Tyson was not my main motivation in writing this blog post. I want to address one particular tweet of his, the one pictured above mentioning Isaac Newton's birthday.

 

According to Tom Flynn in his book The Trouble With Christmas, it is unlikely that Isaac Newton was born on December 25th. (Almost as unlikely as Jesus being born on that date.) Newton was born in 1642, a time when Oliver Cromwell and the Puritans had taken over England and banned the observation of Christmas. The Puritans hated Christmas because it had no Biblical origins, many Pagan ones, and it was generally observed through riotous behavior such as drinking, gambling, having lots of sex, wassailing, and mumming. However, Christmas-keeping was deeply ingrained in popular culture at the time, so many citizens rebeled against the ban in various ways, including marking December 25th as the birthdays of children so they had an excuse to celebrate on that day. Isaac Newton came from one such family.

 

We use an Isaac Newton finger puppet with a red bow as our holiday tree topper. I started doing this before I even knew that Newton's birthday is officially listed as December 25th, and before I found out that many fellow non-theists have done the same thing!

Put in historical context, this adds an interesting layer for us secular folks, for whom Isaac Newton might be a figure connected to secular Christmas celebrations. Not only does including references or images of Newton in our holiday celebrations emphasize our value of science and skepticism. It can also connect us with those who opposed Puritans who would forcibly suppress holiday traditions all secular in nature.

 

Have a toast to Isaac Newton this holiday season!

 

 

Explicitly Secular Christmas Trees

Many of us heathens who like to celebrate secular Christmas also like to make it clear to any onlookers that we aren't necessarily part of the eighty-some percent who are celebrating the birth of their god. One way to do this is with unconventional takes on the good ol' Tannenbaum that emphasize secular values.

Atheist activist Margaret Downey started an annual tradition of getting a "Tree of Knowledge" (an evergreen tree decorated with books by freethinkers) erected at the Chester County Courthouse in Pennsylvania, alongside religious displays. Here's a link to a video of Margaret speaking at a rally for the Tree of Knowledge in 2010. The ideas has caught on with some others. The photo here is of the Tree of Knowledge displayed this year at the Ethical Humanist Society of Philadelphia.

For those who desire more ideas in-line with the heavy-handed approach to asserting one's atheism during the holiday season, here are some ideas posted on Friendly Atheist: How To Decorate Your Tree Like A Good Atheist.

Of course there are other, secular deviations from the traditional tree. One idea that has some things in common with the Tree of Knowledge, and has caught some traction on the Internet is simply creating a whole tree out of books. Yes, books and Christmas trees can be mashed together for more than a public, political statement. It can also just be a really nerdy (but awesome!) way to decorate for the holiday season! As you can check out on The Mary Sue, there are many  more ways to do this than just the way featured in this photo. 

Speaking of nerdy takes on the Christmas tree, fans of science fiction will love this idea of festively decorated Dalek. Yes, nothing says peace on earth and good will toward men better than transforming a supreme villain bent on exterminating all other life in the universe into a tacky, livingroom centerpiece. 

Another option that really brings together the old and new is the alcohol tree. You see, before Christmas was a family holiday centered around bringing joy to children, it was a holiday for drunken revelry by adults. (But don't just take my word for it.) So why not a tree made entirely of wine bottles? The Genesee Brewing Co. has really gotten into the old-fashioned holiday spirit this year with a tree made out of 300 kegs of beer. 

Of course if one doesn't want to celebrate debauchery or be cynical about the whole thing, there's always the option of celebrating the natural world. Buy a potted tree or decorate one growing out in the yard, and decorate it with beautiful objects found in nature - driftwood, pine cones, shells, etc. Here's one I saw like that at a local nature center.

Another option in-line with expressing love for nature and secular humanist values? Do the recycling thing. Here's a tree made of recycled spoons, and another with recycled cans.

Maybe we can combine all these ideas into one glorious secular Christmas tree masterpiece: a thirty-foot tree made of recycled beer cans, decorated with literary ornaments, appearing to be devoured by a giant Cthulhu tree topper!

Who am I kidding? Can't top the butt plug tree.

Santa verses Genie

I'm re-reading The Trouble With Christmas by Tom Flynn, the Executive Director of the Council for Secular Humanism and so-called Anti-Claus. I certainly don't agree with everything Flynn advocates (especially the parts where he keeps telling freethinkers such as myself what our values are or should be.) But I still think it's a fun, must-read for any freethinkers (or "infidels" as he calls us) who grow up in America, so immersed in holiday hubbub for 1-2 months out of every year.

Today's post addresses the passage on page 143, from the chapter Ho Ho Ho? No No No!:

Beyond the usual complaints about holiday materialism, the Santa Claus myth prepares children to become docile members of consumer culture. In a study of children's letters to Santa Claus, kids always asked Santa for material items, not new skills, intangible benefits for other family members, or good health. By contrast, when the same children listed their desires in contexts not associated with Santa Claus, fewer than half of their requests concerned material objects. 

The footnote after the passage refers the reader to Richardson and Simpson, "Children, Gender, and Social Structure: An Analysis of the Contents of Letters to Santa Claus," Child Development 53 (1982.)

Curious, today I asked my 5-year-old daughter, "If you could have three wishes from a genie, what would they be?"

Without much hesitation, she answered that her three wishes would be that her two sets of grandparents and two beloved cousins who live in another state would move close by so she could see them every day. My heart was quite touched by this answer.

Then, of course, I asked, "If Santa really existed, and you could ask for three things, what would you ask for from Santa?"

She pondered this a bit longer, then said she'd ask for a Barbie fashion doll, an Ariel fashion doll, and a bucket of pink paint to paint a wall in her bedroom.

She already has two princess fashion dolls, and she plays with them less than her stuffed animals, 18" dolls, LEGO, and paints, so I'm skeptical that those are really the toys she most desires. I suspect fashion dolls popped into her mind first because they are pretty and glitzy, and very well marketed to her age group.

Finally I asked, "If you had to choose only one to really exist, would you want the genie or Santa?"

Her answer echoed the shocking discovery the Grinch makes about the Whos at the conclusion of Dr. Seuss's famous Christmas tale. She said, "I would want the genie to be real because Christmas is not about presents and lights. It's about the people you love and the love that you show."

Seriously, she said that verbatim. I know because I immediately grabbed a pen to write it down and asked her to repeat herself. Despite all the commercial crap swirling around her, she still managed to pick up that sentiment and push it to the top of her priority list. As a mother, I beamed.

Hey, Virginia, that editor was blowing smoke. We don't need no Jesus OR Santa because we got love, baby, and as the song goes, Love is all you need.  

Art, Ads, and Butt Plug Trees

 Over the weekend vandals deflated a giant, inflated sculpture (pictured here) because they were offended by its resemblance to a butt plug. The Telegraph explained: 

"The 79-foot-high inflatable green exhibit was called 'Tree' because it looked vaguely like a Christmas tree, but the American artist, Paul McCarthy, told Le Monde newspaper that it was inspired by a sex toy known as an anal plug and was meant 'as a joke'."

This isn't the first time Paul McCarthy has caused international scandal by combining the holiday season, public art, and sex toys. In 2001 he created Santa Claus, a statue originally commissioned to be placed next to the concert hall in Schouburgplein square in the Netherlands. 
After its creation, the statue (pictured here - 2nd image) caused so much controversy that it was never placed there and came to be nicknamed the Butt Plug Gnome. Thankfully the citizens of the Netherlands have enough of a sense of humor that by 2005 they came to accept its permanent placement in the less-famous Eendrachtsplein square. 

Apparently a minority of Parisians are angry enough to not only vandalize, but also physically assault the artist (he was slapped several times in the face) over this temporary sculpture. Neither the artist nor the officials are willing to re-erect Tree. So I guess humorless, dull-minded thugs win this round. 

But, gee wiz, ain't it great that no innocent, little kids will be exposed to such a racy double-entendre? I mean, my goodness, it's not like there's any other kinds of overtly sexual imagery found out in the public. 




My gosh, there's so many innocents who would of course instantly recognize the obvious resemblance Tree has to a sex toy. After all, kids encounter sex toys that look just like this far more often than they encounter other abstractions of plant-life in, say, plastic or wooden children's toys, video games, or company logos. 

By golly, I'll go so far as to say this so-called sculpture isn't even really art. I mean, we all know that art elevates and enlightens the human condition. It isn't just something that people would gawk and snicker at while thinking dirty thoughts. Just imagine what a city would look like if we replaced commercial advertising with art that we all agree is truly masterful, like classical paintings!

None of this "humiliating" butt plug nonsense. Butt plugs are just disgusting and immoral. They certainly aren't a safe, healthy aid for stimulating sexual pleasure that comes in a fun and exciting variety of shapes, sizes, and colors. 

Comparing a butt plug to a Christmas tree, a symbol of a sacred and ancient holiday that has been celebrated with drunken revelry and consumer excess, er, I mean with solemn prayer and worship, that's just humiliating to the French people, and if you think about it, all of humanity. Oh, for shame! 

Adrian Mitchell's "Nothingmas Day"

I picked up this book of children's poetry at a used book store in Philly a while ago. I bought it mainly because I love the illustrations of John Lawrence. But the poetry by Adrian Mitchell is wonderfully absurd; playful, but often in a dark sort of way. I now have a favorite poem for the holiday season. It captures the love/hate relationship so many of us have about the holidays. While telling us about its absence, Mitchell vividly describes so much goofy hubbub and cheer. I feel I have been shown a funhouse mirror that in reflecting an unexpected and distorted image. also reveals a forgotten truth.



Nothingmas Day
by Adrian Mitchell

No it wasn't.

It was Nothingmas Eve and all the children in Notown were not
tingling with excitement as they lay unawake in their heaps.
D
 o
  w
   n
     s
      t
       a
        i
         r
          s their parents were busily not placing the last
crackermugs, glimmerslips and sweetlumps on the Nothingmas
Tree.

Hey! But what was that invisible trail of chummy sparks or
vaulting stars across the sky
          Father Nothingmas -- drawn by 18 or 21
          rainmaidens!
          Father Nothingmas -- his sackbut bulging with air!
          Father Nothingmas -- was not on his way!
(From the streets of the snowless town came the quiet of
unsung carols and the merry silence of the steeple bell.)

Next morning the children did not fountain out of bed with cries
of WHOOPERATION! They picked up their Nothingmas
Stocking and with traditional quiperamas such as: "Look what
I haven't got!" It's just what I didn't want!" pulled their stockings
on their ordinary legs.

For breakfast they ate -- breakfast.

After woods they all avoided the Nothingmas Tree, where
Daddy, his face failing to beam like a leaky torch, was not
distributing gemgames, sodaguns, golly-trolleys, jars of
humdrums and packets of slubberated croakers.

Off, off, off went the children to school, soaking each other with
no howls of "Merry Nothingmas and a Happy No Year!", and
not pulping each other with no-balls.

At school MIss Whatnot taught them how to write No Thank
You Letters.

Home they burrowed for Nothingmas Dinner.
The table was not groaning under all manner of
          NO TURKEY
          NO SPICED HAM
          NO SPROUTS
          NO CRANBERRY JELLYSAUCE
          NO NOT NOWT
There was not one (1) shoot of glee as the Nothingmas
Pudding, unlit, was not brought in. Mince pies were not
available, nor was there any demand for them.

Then, as another Nothingmas clobbered to a close, they all
haggled off to bed where they slept happily never after.

          and that is not the end of the story. . . . . . .

Ganulin v. U.S. Ruling Means Christmas Is Also a Secular Holiday

From the ruling of U.S. District Judge Susan J. Dlott on the case of Ganulin v. U.S., which ruled that the federal Christmas holiday did not construe an unconstitutional government endorsement of religion, Dec. 6, 1999:

The court will address
Plaintiff's seasonal confusion
Erroneously believing Christmas
Merely a religious intrusion.

Whatever the reason
Constitutional or other
Christmas is not
An act of Big Brother!

An extra day off
Is hardly high treason
It may be spent as you wish
Regardless of reason.

After the ruling, Kevin Hasson of the Becket Fund (whose mission is to protect the free expression of all faiths) said:

"You can't weed religion out of the culture without uprooting the whole culture in the process.”

However, it might have been more accurate for him to have stated "you can't weed tradition out of the culture..." Christmas has always been more a holiday of customs than religious observations.

On the issue of the Constitutionality of "Christmas" as an official federal holiday, Austin Cline wrote:

“If Christmas is declared a secular holiday, then fundamentalists lose again because our courts will grant recognition to the fact that American society has moved beyond our history of Protestant Christian domination to a more multicultural and multireligious society where holidays which are celebrated on a national level are secular in nature.”

As far as I can tell from the Ganulin ruling, that has already happened.

Reverend Billy, Festivus, and Bringing Whoville Home

How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss is one of the most beloved holiday stories. And though it's about "Christmas", it's a story that transcends sectarian divisions and speaks to a broader audience.

Most everyone knows the tale: the cranky "Grinch", annoyed by the Christmas celebrations in "Whoville", plots to destroy the Whos' good cheer by stealing all their gifts, decorations, and food in the middle of the night. The next morning, instead of wails of anger and sorrow, the Grinch hears joyful singing. So moved by the discovery that Christmas "means a little bit more", the Grinch returns everything and joins in the festivities.

As I read this book to Lysi this week, I asked her, "Why do you think the Whos were so happy even though they didn't have all their stuff?" She looked down at the open book depicting a line of beaming Whos, hand-in-hand, their mouths open in song, and answered, "Because they're with each other."

Woo hoo, my daughter gets it! As much as she likes getting more toys (and she does), she likes visiting with her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles more. When she's tired and sad, she looks up at the pictures of her extended family members on her dresser; her eyes tear up and she cries that she misses them.

Because love is better than stuff.

To non-religious folks, the point of the holiday season can be to spend time with friends and family and act in a way that strengthens those relationships. It can also be a time to consider those less fortunate and if possible take action to aid our fellow human beings. 

There are movements to combat the materialistic greed and cynicism taking over the spirit of the holiday season. Charitable giving, while overshadowed by retail purchases, is still a major part of holiday celebrations. In contrast to Black Friday, there is Buy Nothing Day, an international protest against excessive consumerism. There are the pushes to buy local and buy handmade to cut down on damage to environment, communities, and so that we have a more humanized relationship with the people who make our stuff. An old college friend of mine and his wife just started Gift Instead, a purchase-free gift registry to encourage people to buy less and express their love in more meaningful ways. 

Then there is my personal favorite, Reverend Billy and the Church of Stop Shopping. The good Rev and his gospel choir are a performance art and activist group. They have appropriated the form (but not the divisive theology) of Christian revivalism as way to raise public awareness about the harm that rampant consumerism has ravaged on the health of our communities, our personal relationships, and our very planet. In his latest podcast, Reverend Billy gives a stirring sermon about climate change from the water's edge as the tide comes in: 

Celebrating Festivus (an alternative to Christmas, first introduced to the public by the sitcom Seinfeld) is another reaction to the pressures to buy buy buy during the holiday season. Festivus has become especially popular among freethinkers, with college organizations and local clubs holding annual Festivus parties. 

Festivus is pretty much an anti-Christmas holiday. Instead of exchanging gifts, those celebrating Festivus air grievances and do feats of strength. Instead of a tree, the symbol of Festivus is an unadorned, aluminum pole which means nothing. 

This year many in the media made a big deal over a beer can Festivus pole which was erected alongside the nativity scene in Florida's capital building. While I do think it makes the point about religious freedom and pluralism, I don't really want the secular alternative to Christmas to be meaningless symbols and ritualized complaining about each other. 

A few years ago a bunch of us local freethought groups got together and put up our own holiday display beside the the nativity and menorah at the National Constitution Center. We chose a globe of the earth and the message: "Peace on Earth from your friendly neighborhood atheists, freethinkers, and humanists." Of course news outlets didn't cover that. In order to get media attention, we have to be cynical jerks. 

If Reverend Billy, with his earnest and passionate cry for better behavior is my favorite form of holiday protest, Festivus is my least favorite. 

Festivus as it first appeared on Seinfeld was a rather mean-spirited affair celebrated by rather horrible people. George wanted to use it to get out of holiday obligations, while Cramer wanted to use it to gain the benefits of having a holiday to celebrate. Both were acting on selfish impulses. 

One year my mom actually received a card that read "Happy Festivus!" and which informed her that a donation had been made in her name to "The Human Fund." Since she hadn't seen that episode of Seinfeld, I had to explain to her that the card was an exact imitation of a card the character George had given to co-workers in order to avoid spending money (George just made up "The Human Fund"). That way he could still enjoy the social benefits of participating in holiday gift exchanges and being perceived as a generous person.  

Shouldn't Festivus inspire us to give to charities, buy less stupid crap as gifts, and try to celebrate the holiday season in a way which is meaningful and compassionate? When Jonathan Swift wrote A Modest Proposal, he aimed to inspire compassion and real aid for the poor, not get people to write their own versions of his essay over and over again and then revel in their own cleverness. 

There have been times when I've read the Grinch and thought it was a nice tale about how things should be, but aren't. For so many people in the real world, it seems it's the stuff that matters most. But now I think Seuss was speaking the truth.

It's not that there's anything wrong with expressing our feelings of gratitude, admiration, or love with purchased gifts. Note that in the end, the Grinch gave everything back. The problem comes when we feel we must do it that way. When we lose sight of what really gives our lives meaning.

It truly doesn't matter to me if I get presents from the people I love. I just want to hear from and visit them. I want to know they're okay, and help if they're not. I don't need to give presents to anyone either. Nobody who truly knows and cares about me would think less of me if I gave up gift exchanges altogether. The gifts are merely an expression of what's already there.

Lovealujah! 

Originally published 12/18/13 on Humanist Mom. 

Just Shut Up and Hand Over Your Credit Card

Art by Banksy

The "War on Christmas" is a media fiction. Most people don't care whether cards or store greeters say "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays". It doesn't make a difference to most people if the statehouse holiday display includes a nativity, or if it does that it also include a menorah and whatever else religious minorities and secular folks want to throw in there.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying these issues are totally insignificant. If we minorities are being marginalized, if the Establishment Clause is being violated, that's a problem. But a lot gets overblown and misrepresented in the TV shouting matches.

What does have a major impact on peoples' lives is money. Making it. Spending it. We're especially focused on it this time of year, as it flies out of our bank accounts and into the hands of retailers for products mostly produced by large companies with overpaid CEOs, and manufactured by underpaid workers in factories overseas. 

'Tis the season to be jolly! And broke. 

Shoppers' passion over Black Friday (a "holiday" that now overshadows the sedate, food-and-family-oriented Thanksgiving) has come to be associated with violence as much as sales.

Finding the perfect gifts is widely regarded as stressful. The stress caused by feeling obligated to buy good gifts for everyone perhaps explains why shoppers feel entitled to buy so much for themselves, too.

A recent survey by Lexington Law found that 57% of parents were willing to go into debt to buy presents for their kids. Even worse, the families with lower incomes were willing to go into deeper debt: 

Those with a household income (HHI) of less than $35,000 are willing to accrue an average of $700 worth of debt in order to make their children happy for the holidays. Interestingly, that number is significantly higher than the average amount of debt those with a HHI of $75,000 or more are willing to accrue ($300) in order to make their children happy for the holidays.

Actually, I get that. If a parent or parents only have $35,000 a year to pay for food, housing, utilities, health care, clothing, and anything else that comes along, they're already underwater. So what's another $700 of debt if for at least one happy day you get to see your kids squeal with joy over getting an xbox.

Of course charitable giving goes up around the holidays, but it pales in comparison to spending on stuff-we-don't-really-need. Food banks are still stretched too thin, especially since the federal government cut SNAP benefits (food stamps). And a third of Americans' charitable donations go to religious organizations, which means it could pay for proselytizing as much as it goes to feeding the needy.

Screw Jingle Bells or Deck the Halls. Here's a song that really gets to the heart of the holiday season:


What's way worse than an atheist kid being compelled to sing "Silent Night" at the school holiday concert? A kid living in poverty. Unlike the atheist kid, the poor kid can't just shrug it off, saying, "It's just meaningless tradition." The poor kids' problem isn't one of legal and philosophical debates. It's that his stomach is empty, he's surrounded by stressed out adults, and he's hoping nobody on his block gets shot this year.

In the United States, one in every five kids lives in poverty. How big of an injustice is that? This year the results of a 25-year-long study that followed 224 children revealed that being a "crack baby" is less harmful than growing up poor.

The children were examined every six months to every year, testing everything from intelligence to emotional development, achievement, and brain scans. When searching for effects of crack smoking mothers, what they really discovered was the impact of being born into poverty. Both groups — the control and those children who were born to crack smokers — scored lower than average on IQ and other tests.

In the light of such rampant materialism alongside such horrendous poverty, I marvel in wonder at the enduring popularity of Charles Dickens's novella A Christmas Carol and the film It's A Wonderful Life. Both are clear indictments of capitalism run amok, a call for the rich to share their wealth with those just barely getting by, but in the year 2013 does American society abide by these messages?

I mentioned the cuts to SNAP, which will impact one in seven (over 47 million) Americans. We now have the Affordable Care Act, which is a pathetic compromise, a failed attempt at universal healthcare, that will help many, but is a far cry from a real solution to America's soaring health care costs and unequal access to quality health care.

So I'm sitting here at my computer typing this, and once again thinking, I should do more to help my fellow humans! But when I think of donating more than a token amount to worthy causes, I remember that I have a ton of student loan debt and that we don't even make enough to save for the kids' college, much less our own retirement. When I think of volunteering my time, I remember when I volunteered with a group at a local food pantry, and we were told by the staff that what they really need is more donations. When I think about how we could cut back, I realize we already live rather frugally, and even cutting back where we could wouldn't free up that much money, but it would considerably reduce our quality of life.

The six minute film Wealth Inequality uses stirring narration and simple charts to reveal the shocking differences between what a survey of 5,000 Americans thought wealth distribution should be, what they thought it is, and what it actually is.

The narrator points out, "the middle class is barely distinguishable from the poor." We can't act like reformed Scrooges if we're really Bob Cratchits in denial of just how close we are to the edge of poverty ourselves.

If middle class Americans are truly just getting by, then those of us who attempt to live the example of George Bailey in Its a Wonderful Life are likely to end up like George, but without Clarence's intervention. After all, angels don't exist. 

What we need is change.

Originally published on 12/17/13 on Humanist Mom. 

Can We Celebrate Christmas Without Christ?

My girls and I lighting candles at our local Humanist group's
annual HumanLight and Winter Solstice Party

This past week Lysi, my four-year-old, said to me, "For Christmas I want a car seat for my dolls." 

Foolishly focusing on the wrong part of her statement, I said, "Well we don't really celebrate Christmas because we're not Christian."

To which she responded, "I want to be Christian so I can get presents."

What went through my head: No, no, no, you do not want to be an adherent to a religion with a history which includes holy wars, crusades, witch burnings, and clinic bombings, based on a scripture that instructs on how to treat one's slaves, decrees that homosexuals be put to death, and that women submit to the dominance of men,  that threatens heretics with eternal damnation, and whose main symbol is a half naked guy being slowly tortured to death, all just because you want some more accessories for your dolls! 

What came out of my mouth: "Christians are Christians because they worship Jesus, not because they get presents. We're Humanists and we give and get presents, too." 

She responded,"Okay. Yay!" 

Yay indeed. 

I hate dealing with the flood of Christmas songs and imagery that are found everywhere in December (and November, really) and how to explain the meaning of it all to my kids. I'm just trying to stay honest while not being a total bummer around the holidays, is that too much to ask? 

In my frustration and fatigue over the holiday season, I found this year's Time Square billboard campaign from American Atheists rather comforting. 

The title of the press release declares, "Nobody Needs Christ at Christmas." A description of the billboard follows:  

Using motion graphics, the billboard proclaims, “Who needs Christ during Christmas?” A hand crosses out the word “Christ” and the word “NOBODY” appears. The display then says “Celebrate the true meaning of Xmas” and offers a series of cheery words: family, friends, charity, food, snow, and more. The commercial ends with a jovial “Happy Holidays!” from American Atheists and displays the organization’s website, atheists.org.

I thought, yes, damnit! Everybody celebrates this stinkin' time of year. Almost every atheist I know, certainly all the ones with kids, give gifts and put up trees. Hell, we put up a tree! And even though we top it with a finger puppet of Isaac Newton and I insist we call it a Cricky Tree, my kids still call it a Christmas tree. 

Last year I even received a card from an atheist couple I know wishing me a "Merry Christmas!" Wait a minute, the weirdness and hypocrisy of that kind of annoyed me. Where do we draw the line? Certainly we must draw it somewhere, right? 

Look closely at the above  image of the American Atheists' billboard. The true meaning of Christmas includes "Rockettes", "ice skating", and "Chinese food?"

The meaning of Independence Day is the birth of a nation. We happen to celebrate it with barbecue and fireworks. The meaning of Martin Luther King Day is the ongoing struggles of the civil rights movement. We happen to celebrate it by taking the day off work and school, and doing community service.

Christmas is celebrated with gifts, charitable giving, parties, films, Santa, cookies, light displays and other decorations. But what does Christmas mean? If the meaning of Christmas isn't the birth of Christ (and that's a big if), then what is it? 

The Sean Hannitys of this world would like to frame this ad campaign as an attack on Christians. It's not. Plenty of people (mostly merchants and marketers, but also some proselytizing Christians) have done their part to force the holiday season on all of us. American Atheists are just pointing out that a bunch of us who are putting up trees, exchanging gifts, singing carols, and sending cards don't believe Jesus is God or care about his birthday. Many of we atheists want to enjoy the holiday season, too, but we don't like being automatically grouped with Christians just because we put lights on our porches.

Some complain that the billboard is offensive to some Christians. Yes, it is. Of course it is. So what? I'm reminded of something Ricky Gervais said in an interview with New Humanist:

"I always expect some people to be offended. I know I ruffle feathers but some people’s feathers need a little ruffling. And remember: just because someone is offended doesn’t mean they’re in the right. Some people are offended by multiculturalism, homosexuality, abortion, atheism – what should we do? Ban all those things? You have the right to be offended, and I have the right to offend you. But no one has the right to never be offended.

I get a bit pissed off when I see shitty Christian billboards, or when I hear assholes say ignorant crap such as, "Jesus is the reason for the season." So I can't blame Christians for getting upset when an atheist billboard crosses out the term for their savior and then insists that the "true meaning of Christmas" is takeout and dance numbers.

But it's a small price to pay for free speech, so deal with it.

The question remains, are American Atheists pointing out the truth, that today's Christmas is a secular holiday for everyone? Or are they just being dicks?

Let us pause and seek clarity from Fraggles. Specifically, Fraggle Rock episode 301: The Bells of Fraggle Rock (1984.) 

The show opens with Doc explaining the variety of celebrations which take place worldwide during the winter solstice. (Okay, nevermind that the solstices are a consequence of axial tilt and thus people in the earth's southern hemisphere are having their summer solstice in December, and people close to the equator could probably give a shit.) So at least for Jim Henson and his crew, "Christmas" is regarded as one holiday among a whole December lineup. This would seem to suggest that Christmas retains its religious meaning and is exclusively a Christian holiday. 

Not being Christians, the Fraggles have their own December holiday: The Festival of the Bells. The point of their celebration is to keep the Great Bell moving. According to myth, the Great Bell is located at the heart of Fraggle Rock, though no one has ever seen it. 

Gobo Fraggle, being a skeptic, goes in search of the Great Bell, and on discovering its non-existence, reports back to the rest of the Fraggles that their bell-ringing ritual is pointless. However, without the ritual, all of Fraggle Rock begins to freeze over. Gobo realizes his error - that while the literal meaning of the myth was false, the celebration was still necessary. Bell ringing resumes and nobody freezes to death. 

How should we interpret this tale? I like to think that the Great Bell represents Christ. Regardless of whether the divinity of Jesus is truth or not, it's getting cold and all this Christmas crap is a nice way to face the darkest, coldest time of the year. 

So jingle bells and pass that figgy pudding! 

Originally published 12/16/13 on Humanist Mom. 

Another Jolly, White-Bearded Old Man

I am one of those people who flew into a rage after seeing this holiday season's controversial Toys R Us commercial. The one where a busload of  kids are tricked into thinking they are going on a wilderness field trip to learn about trees (which they apparently find boring), and are then told that really they get to run around a toy store and take home free stuff (this revelation causes them to explode in a fervor of maniacal joy.) If you haven't seen it, you can watch it now.

For those who just watched it for the first time, if your mouth is hanging open with shock and disgust, then you have responded the same way I did. The horribleness of this ad is so painfully obvious, I'm not going to get into it. Suffice to say, it reflects badly on our society that commercials such as this get made.

Work by one of my Wagner students, a sculpture of an Aardvark placed in a diorama

As a secular humanist mom, nature and science education are hugely important to me. My daughter Lysi knows the names of all the captive animals at two nature centers. We have pet millipedes because after holding a giant, African millipede at a bug show last summer, she wanted to have some of her own. We're members of the Academy of Natural Sciences and attend all the preview parties and special events.

This year I'm an artist-in-residence at the Wagner Free Institute for Science. I work with science teachers to design and teach curriculum that integrates our two disciplines. During the Wagner's summer camp, I had inner city middle schoolers draw butterflies, cicadas, and other wildlife in nature journals and create mini-dioramas of animals in their natural habitats.

Hands-on experience of nature in parks and with rescued wildlife engages all our senses and makes it real.

Dude, that's an owl! 

Drawing from life is an exercise in really looking, rather than skimming over what is in front of our eyes.

Now that I get a really good, long look, geez, those talons are seriously scary looking! 

Well-presented information in a good book takes us deeper into understanding.

Owls are predators, descended from dinosaurs. They need those talons to swoop down on their prey.

Finally, creative illustrations transcend what can be seen by the naked eye or camera lens in any single moment. They have the potential to evoke an emotional response, which impresses on us the mystery and profundity of the natural world.

Click here.*

In the library last year, Lysi and I came across Every Autumn Comes the Bear by Jim Arnosky. It's a quiet sort of book. When you really get down to it, all that happens is that a bear appears, hangs out for a bit, then goes to sleep in a cave. And yet Lysi and I both fell in love. What got me was the subtle beauty of the watercolor illustrations. They were detailed, yet loose and painterly. Naturalistic, yet full of unexpected color choices.

In the months that followed, I kept coming across Jim Arnosky's name again and again.  Lysi expressed interest in turtles, and we found All About Turtles. I pulled a book off the shelf because of its striking cover image of an osprey, and it turned out to be Arnosky's Thunder Birds. Lysi got really into bugs, and we found Arnosky's Creep and Flutter. Talk about prolific!

Jim Arnosky popped up once again while I was looking for books for a workshop I teach. In the adult section of the library, among the field guides on trees, I came across Crinkleroot's Guide to Knowing the Trees. An adorable, gnome-like man on the cover charmed me instantly. Inside he introduced himself to me as "Crinkleroot", and said he was "born in a tree and raised by bees." I took the book home and immediately read it to Lysi, who loved it. Not only that, now she knew the difference between coniferous and deciduous trees.

To our joy, we discovered a whole series of Crinkleroot books: guides to butterflies and moths, animal tracking, knowing the birds, giving back to nature, and more. We checked out as many as our public library kept in stock (which was most of the series).

Even though the books were basically doling out textbook information about their subjects, because Crinkleroot addresses his readers directly and is full of personality, Lysi responded to him the same as she responds to Angelina Ballerina, or any of her favorite characters in literature. The first time we went to the Morris Arboretum and saw a real log cabin, she exclaimed with delight, "It's Crinkleroot's house!"

The only Crinkleroot books Lysi found disappointing were the ones titled Crinkleroot's 25 (fill in the blank with "animals", "more animals", "mammals", "fish", and "birds") Every Child Should Know. In each of these books, Crinkleroot only appears at the beginning, and the rest of the pages are filled with profiles of animals listed. The reason Lysi didn't like these books was, as she put it, "I want Crinkleroot to come with us."

Even though Crinkleroot is a delightful character in a series of informative and playfully illustrated books for children, you will not find Crinkleroot dolls, t-shirts, backpacks, or other hokey merchandise. He does not star in a cartoon on Nick Jr., the Disney Channel, or even PBS Kids. You will, however, find Crinkleroot books in most public libraries and many schools. On Crinkleroot's website you can purchase teaching leaves with art and science lessons, download free coloring pages of animals, and even listen to the Crinkleroot song.

I wish Crinkleroot were as familiar a literary character as Fancy Nancy and Arthur. He is a full fleshed-out personality who presents children with facts about the natural world in a way that is engaging and beautiful. And yet, when I have brought him up to educators at nature centers and the Wagner Institute, they have never heard of him. Just like that horrible Toys R Us ad, Crinkleroot's anonymity is perhaps indicative of our society's disconnect and disinterest in the natural world.

A side by side comparison of Crinkleroot and Santa Claus

Crinkleroot looks quite a bit like Santa Claus. White beard. Rosy cheeks. Friendly expression. They're both chubby and wear a lot of red. Crinkleroot might be shorter, but then in many historical incarnations, Santa is an elf or elf-like man of short stature. (Snopes has a good article on the history and myth surrounding Santa's appearance.)

Then there are the significant differences. Crinkleroot merely lives in a cabin in the woods with his pet snake Sassafrass, consorts with nature, and tells tall tales about being raised by bees. Santa on the other hand, lives in the far-off North Pole (a place covered with shifting ice water) and has magical powers: he can fly in a sled, visit all children in a single night, and spies on all children throughout the year.

A late autumn walk in the woods

If we must associate a jolly, white-bearded fictional character with gift-giving in December, how about purchasing some Crinkleroot books to add to the home libraries of the children in our lives? Instead of putting cookies out for a mythical elf, we can take a walk in the woods and note that the nakedness of the deciduous trees signifies winter and the time when bears sleep.

* The image was Owl In Flight, an oil painting by Jane Gough.


Originally published 12/15/13 on Humanist Mom.