Is your family gathering inclusive or just quiet on controversy?

There has been a rash of articles and posts about avoiding arguments and political or religious disagreements around the holiday table this year. The focus of most of these pieces is on peaceful, quiet and controversy-free gatherings.

Tensions haven’t been this high across family tables and between generations in half a century. Many of us are exhausted from the sheer complexity of modern life and by hardships and pain that seem to come out of nowhere. No wonder most of us just want peace more than anything.

Creative Commons image by Neale Adams

Creative Commons image by Neale Adams

And yet, quiet is also what happens when someone dies, prison doors close or bullies smirk in satisfaction.

When I read those posts on avoiding controversy, the picture that builds in my mind is of a woman or a few women—sweating and bone-weary—checking the turkey. Then, the man of the house comes and carries it to the table amid applause, though the only other time he touched it was when he commented critically on its size early that morning as a woman was putting it in the oven. He cuts it and magnanimously passes out pieces, while the women wash up the spatters and hurriedly take off aprons or tuck up hair as they run to take their places at the table.

One woman at this gathering with a chronic illness hid in the study and now she comes to sit down at the same time as the other women, hoping maybe no one will notice she wasn’t helping because of her physical pain and praying no one will ask her if she’s still trying to get pregnant or why she doesn’t just adopt. At the table, the LGBTQ+ teen sits silently, head lowered, with inner turmoil, fear and doubt hidden.

The aunt with a husband of another race and mixed race children is mysteriously absent after last year when someone brought up her husband’s professional advancement probably being due to some kind of affirmative action. The disabled child is told she’ll have to leave the table if she doesn’t stop asking for something. The solitary uncle with Asperger’s Syndrome is chided for putting his hands up by his ears… again.

The child is frightened into silence. The uncle is still. Everyone says something they are thankful for. Even the teen mumbles something about being grateful to be alive, which most laugh off as being teenage petulance. They eat and watch football.

That is a family table without controversy.

And I want no part of it.

I am not saying it has no merits at all. We are fortunate to have families like this. Many people with disabilities like mine who will spend this winter holiday entirely without family could probably teach me a thing or two about the virtues of gratitude.

But I just want to say that silence and a controversy-free table shouldn’t be our goal. The pain at that all-too-common table I described is no less than the pain at many tables where there are hard words spoken. The goal instead should be empathy and gentleness—yes, even gentleness toward those with too much privilege who may be oblivious to the difficulties faced by others.

It is a hard thing to pull off, but here are some tips I would like to implement for a holiday gathering that is a safe zone amidst conflict. You are welcome to join me in this effort.

  • Ask those who can to bring something or help out. Help children and teens to make some contribution. Give older people and sick people possibilities to contribute while seated, for example by watching a baby, folding the host’s laundry that otherwise won’t get folded, cutting up the salad or any number of other things that require little energy. Or encourage those you know are exhausted to relax.

  • Make sure that the same people who are usually working long hours in the kitchen during the holidays are pampered a bit and have as much help as possible. Make sure to appreciate contributions in front of others, including contributions that happen outdoors or which are less visible.

  • At the beginning of any such important family meal it is helpful for the host or other senior member to make a statement about inclusion and caring for all, such as, “I want everyone in our family to know that we love you and accept every part of you. We will love you and accept you at our table no matter how you dress, who you marry or don’t marry, what you do or don’t do for a living. If you’re in trouble, we are with you in sickness and in health, as best we can stand by you. The only way we’d have to love you from a distance is if you abused others and wouldn’t stop. Family by blood, by oath or by choice means belonging.” Studies have shown that even just mouthing words about inclusion really does decrease incidents of abuse and exclusion. And surely it would also comfort some who have reasons to fear rejection.

  • If your family has a ritual of prayers or thanksgiving before these big holiday meals, encourage family members to bring quotations or prayers that resonate with them from various cultures and traditions, whether spiritual or secular. Be clear that all are welcome, even when you’re speaking to those who you know have a firm religion. This will help to prepare them for including others, and will go a long way toward welcoming those who might feel marginalized. One way to make this particularly fun is to bring a lot of different quotations and prayers on slips of paper and let people draw them out of a hat to read or choose from a pile in the middle of the table.

  • When (for most of us it isn’t a question of “if”) someone protests the inclusion of traits or beliefs they consider to be wrong, have a clear response prepared to refer them to, such as, “In this house we don’t allow exclusion or derogatory comments about traits someone can’t control or about beliefs that don’t harm anyone else. Please respect the house rules, if you wish to stay.” There is always the question of tolerating the intolerant. The only way I know to solve this one is to say that what we tolerate is what harms no one, while we don’t tolerate that which infringes on or harms others. We don’t insult someone who suffers from addiction. Yet, we also don’t let someone force harmful smoke on others. If you are unlucky enough to run into the argument that being gay or trans is a “choice,” you have my sympathy and I suggest simply sticking to the facts that medically it is not considered voluntary and that these traits do not harm anyone else.

  • It is hard to ban all “political” discussion in a world where almost everything personal is political, but it may be a good idea to ask your family to refrain from discussing political figures or specific proposals during the holiday gathering, if you know there is division in your family. There is a difference in the provocation in a statement like, “I want to toast to the health of Bernie Sanders. May he live long and lead well as president next year,” versus something personal but also potentially fraught with politics like, “Hi Grandma, this is my partner Sydney.” Laying down the rules on that difference is worth the trouble.

  • If things do get heated, remember that silence usually favors the privileged and helps abusers. It rarely comforts the vulnerable or the unjustly rejected. Favor those who are generally marginalized in any moderating of discussion. Remember that tears and anger as well as withdrawal are common reactions to hurt and exclusion. Defend anyone who is disrespected for circumstances beyond their control or for harmless beliefs. Ask those who attack or belittle others to be silent first, when trying to put down open conflict.

  • Most of all listen and work toward actual empathy. As hard as it is, if and when words are spoken on difficult subjects, listen to what is expressed and try to reflect back to the speaker in a way that assumes good intentions. “Uncle Brad, I am hearing you say that you feel like liberals want to let in all these refugees but we don’t even talk to our next door neighbors. I know you’re the kind of guy who helps anyone stuck by the side of the road and I believe you really do care about people.” Then if you really don’t want to talk politics, stop there. Don’t try to give your side. Just ask if Uncle Brad is willing to put off the discussion to another time.

  • Consider asking your family to use a gift spending limit or a homemade gift exchange. Whatever we can do to lessen the level of consumerism in our lives will help in many ways. Beyond that, as wealth inequality widens and families become more diverse, wealth inequality within families also widens. If you haven’t yet witnessed a family conflict sparked by accusations or insecurities over differences between gift values, you definitely don’t want to find out what such a fight is like. Sort names randomly in advance and encourage family members to make a homemade gift, a gift of a shared experience or simply a gift under a reasonably low price limit. Or alternatively, encourage homemade gifts for everyone (such as soap, candles, cookie tins, ornaments, potholders, photos, artwork, etc.) and encourage those who don’t do crafts to buy only small gifts for everyone of similar type (pens, chocolates, gloves, etc.).

  • Get to know the individual needs in your family as best you can. You may have only vaguely heard that aunt-so-and-so is sick long-term. Find a moment, on the phone beforehand or privately during the event to ask if there is anything she needs. She’ll probably say “no,” even if it’s not true, so be on the lookout thereafter. This isn’t “being a mother hen.” It’s just being a healthy family member. The same goes for family members with long-standing, known disabilities. You may think you know what your brother on the autism spectrum or with a vision impairment needs, but the chances are that since he grew up he has learned a lot more about what he needs himself that he didn’t know before. Ask how this family gathering can be made easy and comfortable for people with infants or older people or anyone else who might have uncommon difficulty. It may seem like extra effort that has to be put out in the beginning, but the savings in stress and effort over the long run are enormous.

  • Many winter holiday celebrations, beyond Thanksgiving, incorporate a ritual of stating one’s reasons for gratitude. This is a beautiful tradition, however it does entail a focus on forcing everyone to be cheerful, regardless of circumstances. A good addition to this might be to state what one is thankful for and also a mistake one would like to make amends for. This may make those most privileged a little uncomfortable, but no more than the gratitude thing makes those less privileged uncomfortable. It balances and makes the ritual “real.” Alternatively, each person might state something they would like to heal or rectify in themselves or their family over the next year.

  • As the previous point implies, not everyone is happy and cheerful during the holidays. It is wonderful when we can gather around with genuine smiles and belly laughs full of shared joy. But there are times and circumstances when we can’t. Be aware of those in your family, including yourself, who might be struggling to be cheerful. A hug, an offer of a quiet place to withdraw when needed and an acknowledgement that “it’s okay to not be okay,” go a long way toward real inclusion and are likely to bring on more smiles.

This list probably isn’t comprehensive. It is just my ideas and at the same time it is overwhelming for one person to take on. If you have a family which is consciously trying to transform interactions and make a more peaceful and inclusive gathering, it may be helpful to print this list out, cut each point onto separate pieces of paper and let family members choose to be in charge of encouraging and implementing one or two points.

The person who chooses a given point then becomes the family advisor on that issue for the gathering. They make an effort to implement the point personally or organize any group activity involved and they may also gently remind others of the shared goal of inclusion and peace when tensions rise.

Above all, remember that this is not easy but it is worth the effort.

Peace be on your house and may love infuse your winter holiday celebration.

A local foodie and one more duffel bag

As the first snow of the season turns drearily to slush outside in the navy-blue dusk, I sip tea and crunch thin slices of a giant white radish dipped in vinegar.

It’s an odd sort-of treat to the western way of thinking. But here in cold, agriculturally spartan Bohemia, it is a welcome bit of crispness and freshness in the winter.

The texture reminds me fleetingly of hikima, but it is not nearly so sweet and a touch less earthy. Before being sliced the giant radish is large enough to serve as an impromptu weapon if pressed. Sliced thin, it has a bite in the aftertaste and is better served with a few drops of vinegar.

Creative commons image via Pixabay

Creative commons image via Pixabay

It’s one of those things you get used to after a time in a different climate, especially in a place where imports are either not readily available, prohibitively expensive, of exceedingly poor quality or ecologically unsustainable. In the case of Hikima, it simply doesn’t exist here.

Just about everything fresh—beyond the ever-present root vegetables, wrinkly apples and cabbage—falls into most of those categories this time of year. I’m plotting a salad for tomorrow with frost-sweetened beets (the very last of the garden harvest), roasted pumpkin slices from the cellar, nuts, seeds, white cheese and whatever thinly sliced cabbage can be had.

There are plenty of people who buy the over-priced, pale and tasteless excuses for vegetables that are imported here, but I prefer to live as locally as possible, eating in season and storing what I can for the winter.

Only part of it is due to the price and low quality of the winter imports, though those are certainly considerations. Another part is my own conviction that eating in season is both personally healthier and more ecologically sustainable. And those things matter a great deal.

But I’m not a saint when it comes to importing. I have been recently obsessed with my list of things to buy abroad for a very specific reason.

‘Tis the season to get a bag from America.

The past few months have been full of lists and discussions of what you really cannot get in Prague or reasonably online in Central Europe. Partly this is the normal, pre-holiday scramble of most people with children and extended family around.

But in my case it is complicated by a large physical gap right in the middle of the family—large meaning the size of he Atlantic Ocean and most of the continents of Europe and North America put together. And one small duffel bag making its way from one side to the other in the care of a family friend.

Living on the edge of Eastern Europe, I have kept a running list of things to buy when I travel for the past twenty years. Once the list was topped by ordinary toiletries, household items and food, such as gallon jugs of salsa, hair ties, tubs of school glue, jumbo packs of washable markers, good quality clothing for the next couple of years, dried tapioca, molasses and assorted spices.

As the Czech Republic became more integrated with the consumerist networks of the world that list has shrunk until today it reads as follows.

  • Dr. Bronner’s soap

  • Vicks Vaporub

  • Edible vegetable glycerin

  • Real brown sugar

  • English language games

  • English books

  • A few special children’s toys unavailable locally

Shipping is prohibitively expensive—eighty dollars for a small box that would hold only a fraction of that list. So, mostly we wait until someone makes the trip and pay the $100 fee to send them with an extra bag. That’s what is happening in the run up to this holiday season. We sent a young man to America to learn some English by hanging out with our cousins, and sent him with fresh rye bread and a few other things that can’t be easily obtained there. Now he’s on his way home and bringing a holiday sack with him, like a scrawny, young version of Santa.

For most of human history, where you lived was a decisive factor in what you ate, what you wore and every other detail of everyday life. Today, our global society likes to pretend that isn’t true anymore. It largely isn’t for those with money and even the rest of us consume a lot that comes from distant places.

But due more to social, political and economic trends than to distance and geography, there are things that are difficult or even impossible to obtain in one area that are common in others.

Receiving such a large package is like a holiday all it’s own. The preparation spans weeks, if not months—careful lists, family discussions of priorities, predictions of needs for the next year or so, ordering items, Skype conversations with the person receiving the orders and assembling the pack. more discussions of weight and size limits, revision of priorities, coordination of flights, schedules, transport to and from airports, and then at last the keen anticipation as the final days count down.

When the duffel finally arrives with a jetlagged traveler, there is all the sweetness of hope and anxiety. Things are often broken in transit, and if they happen to contain liquid that could mean stains and a mess to clean up, instead of a celebration. There are also battery operated toys for the children, which we have read and reread the US air traffic regulations on but still harbor anxiety about.

Finally, the moment of unpacking is at hand. Everything is tightly compressed in the pack and a faint whiff of the pine forests and wood smoke of my mother’s home in Oregon lingers poignantly on the taught canvas. It’s hard to unzip but I work the zipper down.

The first sniff smells clean. Nothing too terrible could have spilled if it smells good.

After twenty years, this has become a tradition that would be hard to break. And yet, I know that it is no more sustainable than eating out of season. There will likely come a day when flying is either too expensive or limited to make any such packages feasible. Then those of us living far from childhood homes and families will be cut off from small comfort foods, little luxuries and preferred clothing.

For now I savor it, a bit of guilty pleasure, one more duffel from across the world, filled with treasure and home and celebration. Tucked amid the good fabric, toys, games and Dr. B’s, there is homemade candy from my mom and pickled peppers from my brother’s garden. These, of course, are the things no money can buy and no import shop will ever satisfy.