It started when I
received a monthly calendar listing meetings that I often attend. Almost
instantly, my eyes spotted that Christmas was the only holiday listed for the
month of December. When I didn’t see Hanukkah, Kwanza, or any other holiday, I
didn’t just feel bad because those days were excluded. I could sense myself
almost becoming indignant.
After mulling it over for a few days I decided to contact
the woman who normally emails the calendar. When I asked about it I wrote,
“Even though I don’t practice Judaism, this is an old wound for me that has
never fully healed.” She quickly replied and said, “I’m sorry you felt
slighted. Someone else sent the December calendar. I think they were in a rush
and just downloaded it from the Internet. When I do it I try to add in all the
holidays so everyone is informed.”
Her response made me feel
better, but I was still bothered about something. My reaction. I had
immediately spotted the one thing that makes me feel left out. I thought,
“Maybe I’m the one who is making myself feel excluded.” It’s almost as if I was
on the lookout for something that could bug me so I could pout about the
holidays. I’ve always been against anyone acting like this, anyone who might be
self-righteous and indignant. But, if I want everyone else to be open-minded
and respectful about my heritage or disability or anything else that might be
different about me, I need to act the same way.
This made me wonder if I
really was as open-minded and respectful of others as I always thought. I
remembered the times when I traveled and lived with people who were worlds
apart from me in their culture and frame of mind. We embraced each other’s
differences. In Spain I met lots of people who were interested to learn about Jewish
holidays and traditions. And I ran around with them to all the special events
that took place in their churches. We shared experiences that were rich,
diverse, and bonded us.
Over the years I have
also reached out to people, even strangers, about my speech disability. I have
met many people who didn’t understand what it was like for me to be unable to
speak or have a difficult time communicating. But, after connecting with them,
I realized that it wasn’t because they didn’t want to. They simply never had
anyone share the experience with them. They were open and more than willing to
learn about what it is to live without a useable voice.
But, now, my reaction to
the calendar made me feel like I was nitpicking. Why was I so judgmental when
that was the last thing I wanted from anyone else?
Like Scrooge, I believe
my feelings of being left out began in childhood. I grew up in a segregated
city and learned early on that my culture was different from others in my city
and around much of the world. Then, not many years later when I lost my ability
to speak normally, my sense of disconnection simply deepened. Fortunately, as a
young adult I moved to one of the most diverse and tolerant cities I know.
Perhaps, though, a part of me never completely moved on.
Thinking about this
helped me to see that sometimes I have unconsciously used my cultural heritage
or disability to cut myself off from others. When I’ve done this I know that I
have felt the last thing I want to feel -- intolerant. Seeing Christmas as the
only holiday on a December calendar shouldn’t create negative feelings in me.
But the fact that it did made me turn my thinking around and focus on the good
things that happen at this time of year. I can share and spread joy, and I can
even light up a tree in my house if I like too.
In fact, the other day someone unknowingly helped me to
start feeling a little holiday joy. As I left my local grocery store, I saw a
Salvation Army bell ringer standing outside in the cold. When I walked by her,
she looked me in the eye and casually said with a big smile, “Merry Christmas.”
I didn’t flinch or get upset in any way like I might have before. Instead, I
simply smiled back and said, “Happy holidays to you too!” I have to admit; it felt pretty good.
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