Christmas, as far as I’m concerned, comes around too often. We spend half the year preparing for it and the other half recovering. Christmas cards are a total waste of time and all people write is ‘To’ and ‘From’, with a few kisses, if you’re really special. The stress surrounding gift-giving is unfathomable; the dreaded proposal ‘shall we make a spending limit this year?’ and the ‘alright, you tight git’ response, so clearly etched on the face of the acquaintance you probably shouldn’t be buying a present for anyway; the necessity to continually improve on last year’s present, even if you went a bit crazy because back then you were flushed; the pressure of pretending to like the vile earrings your best friend spent ‘so long’ choosing; the hassle of discreetly redistributing them to another vague acquaintance you needn’t buy a present for, but who got you something last year and the ensuing awkwardness of having not reciprocated was too much to face again. I don’t do presents for anyone except family. The mental stress kills me, the pressure of finding the right thing for the right person is all-consuming – and I’m that tight git we mentioned earlier.

But isn’t it just a little disgusting the amount of sadness people feel the need to hide, the enormity of the debt people get themselves out of shame and embarrassment, the materialism of it all? According to an HSBC press release, Brits will be spending an average of £560 per head this year, ‘with almost half of people planning to put current economic conditions to one side and spend the same amount on presents for their family as last year.’[1] One in five couples make enquiries about divorce directly after Christmas; ‘the enforced intimacy of Christmas, coupled with the start of a new year is thought to be the main trigger.’[2] Furthermore, Christmas depression is a serious issue, with suicide rates higher in December than any other month. Christmas blues can be a result of anything from loneliness, financial issues and failure to family death or the loss of a child. And everyone is so joyous (whether sincere or not…). So, not wanting to be the cheer-eclipser, people experiencing emotional pain may well alienate themselves and not seek help. Equally, depression can hit for no ‘real’ reason, leaving people even more frustrated and feeling like they shouldn’t be depressed. They imagine that those who have ‘experienced trauma have more of a ‘right’ to experience holiday depression than those who appear to have everything that could need or want… People fail to recognize that holidays are stressful enough to trigger a depression.’[3]

Don’t think me cynical, I love it really. My Mum still does stockings for me and my sisters. I’m 21. And Christmas is incomplete without 4-part carols and a slightly flat, drunken attack on the descant of Hark the Herald Angels Sing. I spent Christmas in Australia a couple of years back and it was just sick and wrong. Swimming in the sea on Christmas day? Sweating? Roast Lasagne?? Terrible. Yet missing Christmas that year made the following year the most exciting Christmas of my life, especially with a manic seven year old wreaking havoc. I propose a bi-annual celebration…

Sadly I doubt the kiddywinkles would accept that. But much as kids often seem ungrateful and materialistic at Christmas, research by swapit.co.uk in 2010 found that 90% of under-18s would be happy to receive fewer gifts if it would help ease tension and financial worry for their family. I don’t really like children, especially under the age of 5. They’re boring and irrational and they can’t hold a proper conversation. But over the last few years I have been consistently surprised with the maturity and sensitivity of a lot of kids I know; the spoilt brattiness is quelled when it counts, an understanding attitude towards money issues nurtured when they sense it is necessary. Kids know they don’t really need a DS. What they need is food, cuddles and affirmation. We all know unhappy rich people – perhaps it’s not the price but the attitude with which a present is given that secures its appreciation. (Heed profound statement number one.)

How do we approach the Christian issue? Because of course, Christmas is a Christian celebration. Even if secular people are hazy about the details, most know of Jesus and the vague significance of His birth. Surprisingly, at least as far as I was concerned, in a survey conducted by ComRes, 84% of interviewees disagreed that ‘Christmas should be re-named to reflect our multi-cultural society’, meanwhile 85% agreed that ‘Christmas should still be called Christmas because we are still are Christian country’.[4] In response to the results, Nick Spencer, director of research at Theos Think Tank, asserted ‘there remains enormous and genuine affection for both the Christian festival of Christmas and the values underpinning it.’[5] But to avert a full-blown theological debate, I want to consider instead the question of what Christmas culture in Britain teaches our children.

Well having been so negative earlier I want to put on my rosy specs; the generosity surrounding Christmas, and the tangible Christmas spirit which circulates, are extremely positive influences for a child of any age. Coming together in the cold, dark months of winter to enjoy good company and show appreciation of each other is surely a good tradition to pass down to the next generations? I always assumed that Santa Claus, Saint Nick and Father Christmas were the same guy. However, they are actually historically different people who have succinctly been combined into the one image, with a little help from Coca Cola, we now associate with the festive bringer of joy. Saint Nicolas was actually a generous Greek Christian, born in what is now Turkey in the third century AD, who used his whole inheritance to care for the poor and needy of his day and gave secret financial aid via chimneys; the origins of the Father Christmas figure are more debatable but it is likely he represented the coming of spring, formerly around the fifth century, and thus dressed in a long green cloak, feasting with people and sharing merriment, and later merged into the pagan character associated with the Vikings; finally, Santa Claus is an American figure derived from the Danish Sinterklaas, probably based on Saint Nicholas originally, who lives in the North Pole and delivers presents to ‘good children’ (and me) on Christmas Eve.[6] – Typical of the ‘West’ to merge three completely separate ideas into one. But all the different attributes of Saint-Christmas-Claus outlined above are, in my opinion, good qualities for children to admire and aspire to.

Nevertheless, the British ‘Christmas Culture’ projects an underlying perception onto children of what Christmas is meant to be: an event for family to get together and love each other, a physical demonstration of that love through the giving of expensive ‘stuff’, a time to be on ‘best behaviour’ and not argue; and ultimately happy. So what about kids whose parents have split up? Or really ought to split up? Or whose family have died, have abandoned them, hate each other or, one way or another, don’t exist? Or maybe some kids have a loving family, but said family simply cannot afford to buy lots of ‘not just food…’ or sparkly new things – our Christmas Culture must plague them at school in January when their little chums are proudly brandishing the latest whatever. But what, if anything, can we do about this? Are people, rich, poor and somewhere in the middle, happy to swallow the crappy aspects of Christmas because that’s just how it is here? I guess, like everything in life, we just have to hope that the kids will turn out alright – like we all did (?…).

Katie Martin

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