![]() ![]() In the checkout line, I came across an image that encapsulates everything I’ve felt about Christmas since I was a kid. The other day, I was in Petco picking up food for my darling Jewish cat, Philip (named after the late Philip Roth). And yet, while everything around me is so obviously Christmas-themed (aside from the occasional pitiful Hanukkah display), all of the messaging surrounding it is always labeled for the “holidays.” Pumpkins are replaced with wreaths, seemingly everything turns red and green, and the familiar sound of ‘90s rock in stores is replaced with Christmas music. Thanksgiving marks the turning point where this invisibility sets in. While I enjoy Hanukkah as a holiday, it has also become a way of clinging to my Jewish identity in a time when I feel invisible. I dust off my wax-covered mini menorah from the recesses of my apartment’s oddly-shaped storage nooks, scavenge up the random candles left over from Hanukkahs past, and eat latkes with a schmear of both applesauce and sour cream ( don’t come for me). While there are myriad ways to celebrate Hanukkah, I tend towards a bare bones approach. ![]() I’d like to think that, by now, the average American understands that not everyone celebrates Christmas, but when I look around me at the various “holiday displays,” I see that’s unfortunately not true. Everyone celebrates Christmas.ĭad : Actually, we don’t. ![]()
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