(no subject)
Putting the Fine book together with my meltdown the other day...
Much of the time Australia keeps religion out of public places. Now, everything blares Christmas. Some of those who accept notice it and some don't. Some link it to their private festivities and smile. Some see it as a burden to be got through but as something that's part of their culture.
For me, it's like moving through the private lives of others. I can't switch off the religious aspect of it as some do, for I've studied the history of that religion. I also carry with me the baggage of Christmas bigotry past - this is personal baggage. Every time someone has told me I have killed Christ or am not Australian or have a 'special' relationship with money, or am dirty, or should have been killed by Hitler, that stays with me. Mentally, I prepare for those statements and visible changes to the Christianity of the landscape is, unfortunately, one of the warning signs. I didn't realise it, but Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer is closely tied to comments about all Jews having big noses. And it happens often enough so that I'm prepared for it to happen. This is not good.
What is also not good is that others don't tend to see that the world outside my flat has been transformed into a slightly different universe, one which at best, others me, and at worst, threatens. Because it's Christmas and a time of goodwill, I am expected to exhibit all the signs of goodwill, and using the wider-accepted codes (not, for instance, using my own festivals). Many other people have the experience of Rudolph as secular and don't associate Christmas with loneliness and mild bigotry.
So I take on uncomradely behaviour at a time when only those who don't belong take on those traits and I make myself belong even less. Not only do I get blamed, but I blame myself. I joke about it and call it Scroogitudiness, but it's like walking into someone's living room and knowing one is a guest and is breaking the good china out of clumsiness. I'm full of apology. I'm also the poor cousin in the living room, which makes the apology a trifle humiliating.
I do big shopping trips early in the season (mostly already done!) and avoid the public parts of the living room where I can. I seek out places with fewest garlands and Santas and "buy this!" I go to Christmas parties of friends when invited as a guest of a family - this has no discomfort attached, for I know the rules for guest of family. I feel uncomfortable at Christmas parties by many groups or the public because they *do* exclude me, even when I am a member. The exclusion is because Christmas not a universal festival and because I'm one of those for whom it's not universal. The problem with this exclusion is that, all my life, it has had certain tags attached and one of my warnings that I might get the usual comments is that people insist on calling it a Christmas party when they're really thinking of it as an end of year party. If they can't distinguish between the two, then they almost certainly can't see that I'm in their living room and being treated as a poor cousin.
Oddly, it's some of my most religious friends who understand best. They send me home made cards and sometimes give me presents and make me feel comfortable in their living room. Because they're clear about their own religious response to the festival, they're very clear that they're inviting me in, out of love. Those who haven't sorted out the complexity of Christmas don't even realise I'm in their living room, which is why I'm treated as a poor cousin - they think I belong even as their language excludes me.
So, what am I doing this Christmas? The good is that I have Christmas Eve with some close friends. In their living room, as an invited guest, with presents and goodwill. I'm taking some 21 year old Rutherglen vintage port to aid in the jollity. These are very good friends and I do not feel any less than treasured when I'm with them.
On Christmas Day, I'm alone. On Boxing Day, I'm alone. In fact, all the rest of the silly season, I'm alone (except that another alone-friend and I plan to chat online at some stage). I can't turn on the TV until after Boxing Day, for that's still part of the Christmas public living room. I shall be doing things like sorting papers and working and (if I can borrow enough DVDs) watching movies, for there are few choices for a single Jewish non-driver in Canberra (Chinese restaurants are not open here on Christmas - nothing much is open here on Christmas). I am not visiting family, for we are Jewish and do not meet up around Christmas and that would be extending the public living room into my family life, which hurts (although a dozen people suggest it every year). Also, it's my father's birthday on December 26 (he would have turned 90) and Mum doesn't need things made more difficult.
The PhD was wonderful, for it obliterated everything like this - I just did lots of work and finished the degree early. If I had a regular job, I could enjoy the break. But this year is back to normal and so I develop bristling tendencies.
Now I can go back to considering gender, but it was rather interesting to discover threat and how it affects who I am at this time of year.
Much of the time Australia keeps religion out of public places. Now, everything blares Christmas. Some of those who accept notice it and some don't. Some link it to their private festivities and smile. Some see it as a burden to be got through but as something that's part of their culture.
For me, it's like moving through the private lives of others. I can't switch off the religious aspect of it as some do, for I've studied the history of that religion. I also carry with me the baggage of Christmas bigotry past - this is personal baggage. Every time someone has told me I have killed Christ or am not Australian or have a 'special' relationship with money, or am dirty, or should have been killed by Hitler, that stays with me. Mentally, I prepare for those statements and visible changes to the Christianity of the landscape is, unfortunately, one of the warning signs. I didn't realise it, but Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer is closely tied to comments about all Jews having big noses. And it happens often enough so that I'm prepared for it to happen. This is not good.
What is also not good is that others don't tend to see that the world outside my flat has been transformed into a slightly different universe, one which at best, others me, and at worst, threatens. Because it's Christmas and a time of goodwill, I am expected to exhibit all the signs of goodwill, and using the wider-accepted codes (not, for instance, using my own festivals). Many other people have the experience of Rudolph as secular and don't associate Christmas with loneliness and mild bigotry.
So I take on uncomradely behaviour at a time when only those who don't belong take on those traits and I make myself belong even less. Not only do I get blamed, but I blame myself. I joke about it and call it Scroogitudiness, but it's like walking into someone's living room and knowing one is a guest and is breaking the good china out of clumsiness. I'm full of apology. I'm also the poor cousin in the living room, which makes the apology a trifle humiliating.
I do big shopping trips early in the season (mostly already done!) and avoid the public parts of the living room where I can. I seek out places with fewest garlands and Santas and "buy this!" I go to Christmas parties of friends when invited as a guest of a family - this has no discomfort attached, for I know the rules for guest of family. I feel uncomfortable at Christmas parties by many groups or the public because they *do* exclude me, even when I am a member. The exclusion is because Christmas not a universal festival and because I'm one of those for whom it's not universal. The problem with this exclusion is that, all my life, it has had certain tags attached and one of my warnings that I might get the usual comments is that people insist on calling it a Christmas party when they're really thinking of it as an end of year party. If they can't distinguish between the two, then they almost certainly can't see that I'm in their living room and being treated as a poor cousin.
Oddly, it's some of my most religious friends who understand best. They send me home made cards and sometimes give me presents and make me feel comfortable in their living room. Because they're clear about their own religious response to the festival, they're very clear that they're inviting me in, out of love. Those who haven't sorted out the complexity of Christmas don't even realise I'm in their living room, which is why I'm treated as a poor cousin - they think I belong even as their language excludes me.
So, what am I doing this Christmas? The good is that I have Christmas Eve with some close friends. In their living room, as an invited guest, with presents and goodwill. I'm taking some 21 year old Rutherglen vintage port to aid in the jollity. These are very good friends and I do not feel any less than treasured when I'm with them.
On Christmas Day, I'm alone. On Boxing Day, I'm alone. In fact, all the rest of the silly season, I'm alone (except that another alone-friend and I plan to chat online at some stage). I can't turn on the TV until after Boxing Day, for that's still part of the Christmas public living room. I shall be doing things like sorting papers and working and (if I can borrow enough DVDs) watching movies, for there are few choices for a single Jewish non-driver in Canberra (Chinese restaurants are not open here on Christmas - nothing much is open here on Christmas). I am not visiting family, for we are Jewish and do not meet up around Christmas and that would be extending the public living room into my family life, which hurts (although a dozen people suggest it every year). Also, it's my father's birthday on December 26 (he would have turned 90) and Mum doesn't need things made more difficult.
The PhD was wonderful, for it obliterated everything like this - I just did lots of work and finished the degree early. If I had a regular job, I could enjoy the break. But this year is back to normal and so I develop bristling tendencies.
Now I can go back to considering gender, but it was rather interesting to discover threat and how it affects who I am at this time of year.