Is Santa teaching sexism or other harmful ideas? Feminist Advice

A reader wonders how to answer her kids' questions about Santa--and whether how she handles those questions relate to feminist politics.

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A reader asks…

My kids are nine and 12, and are starting to ask questions about Santa. I don’t want them to lose the magic of the holiday season, but I also don’t want to lie to them. Do you have any advice on easing them into the reality of Santa’s unreality? And is there a feminist way of handling this? I often think about the fact that we give an old white dude credit for mothers’ hard work, and wonder if Santa is anti-feminist. How would you advise new mothers to handle Santa?

My answer

In my experience, parents are far more invested in their children’s feelings about Santa than the children are, and parents are typically the least accurate at guessing their own kids’ feelings about Santa, because their own over-investment in their personal views colors their perceptions.

During my first year as a parent, I posted the following status to Facebook:

One of the weirdest things about social media: every year, parents erupt into arguments about whether it’s appropriate to teach kids to believe in Santa. Threats are made. Relationships are ended. There are lots of cries about “ruining Christmas.” The pro-santa crowd asserts that Christmas can’t be magical without Santa, and threatens to maim or kill anyone, including small children, who reveals the truth about Santa. The anti-Santa crowd is equally militant, calling Santa defenders liars and bad parents. Eventually, someone brings Jesus into the discussion and all Hell breaks loose. On mombook/momstagram, death threats over Santa are the true meaning of Christmas. My childless friends won’t believe me.

It still holds true, and I want to talk a bit about Santa as a concept, and the Santa wars more generally, before I address your question.

Mothers are under so much pressure not only to be good parents, but to perform good parenting to other parents. We build alliances and friendship groups based on our parenting values—attachment parenting and co-sleeping vs. cry it out; working mom vs. tradwife; and at the holidays, pro- or anti-Santa.

We over-invest in these identities as a way to separate ourselves from other moms, to seem better and more educated, and to connect with other women. This connection is a desperate need in patriarchy. No wonder we’re willing to participate in such ridiculousness to get it. But wasting our time on these disputes, and on judging other women for where they align in the Santa wars, is just one more of patriarchy’s distractions—a way to keep us pointing the finger at one another rather than aligning together against the systems that oppress us all.

Our family never really invested in Santa. We told our kids he’s a mythological figure based on a real person, and then have let them decide what to do. Some years, they want to believe in Santa and visit him. Mostly, they find him creepy and want nothing to do with him. What I’ve been most struck by, though, is the times that they believe in him even after we have told them he’s not real.

I see similar with my friends’ kids, and I see no correlation at all between how a family handles Santa and how their kids behave or feel. Santa just doesn’t matter that much.

So rest assured, you can be a good feminist, a good mother, and a thoughtful person no matter which army you join in the Santa Wars. But like just about everything else, you can use Santa as an opportunity to teach feminist lessons, or as a tool to suppress feminist thought. Everything we do can be political, and every decision we make with our kids can teach them something of value. I believe it’s important to seize on the opportunities these moments present.

We should absolutely be embracing kids’ critical thinking about Santa. It’s one thing to participate in mythology in a family. It’s another to go to great lengths to get children to continue believing in something in spite of the evidence. I encourage you to be honest with your kids if they ask you direct questions about Santa. You can also encourage critical thinking by reflecting their questions back to them, and encouraging scientific thought. For instance, if a child asks how Santa visits every house in a night, ask them to consider how it might be possible.

Santa also provides an incredible helpful opportunity to teach lessons of bodily autonomy and consent. Those photos of kids screaming in terror in Santa’s lap are not funny, and not ok. Kids get to say no to being touched and held—especially by some random old man they find creepy. We absolutely should not be teaching kids to accept touch that scares them, lest they internalize the message that they can’t say no (or can’t trust you to support their no).

I don’t particularly like it when parents tell kids that Santa only comes to those who believe in him. It seems to be an attempt to get kids to pretend to believe because of the parents’ emotional need for the child to believe, and children should not be so wrapped up in their parents’ emotions. It also encourages lying, and penalizes children for growing up and gaining critical thinking skills.

I would also encourage you to be mindful of your own emotional investment in Santa. I find that a lot of women get really upset about the prospect of their kids no longer believing in Santa. I suspect this is because patriarchy takes so much from us, including so much of what’s magical and lovely in motherhood. So when something else disappears, however trivial, it can feel like a very significant loss. This, coupled with the constant messaging that we’re “babying” our kids by caring for and loving them and that we must force them to grow up as quickly as possible, can trigger a lot of grief and defensiveness about Santa.

You are entitled to these emotions. You should own them, interrogate them, and support yourself to manage them. But you mustn’t foist them onto your children.

There’s a lot about Santa that conveys a harmful message—for example, by encouraging kids not to notice all the gifts their mothers get for them, or by suggesting that wealthier kids are more deserving of Santa’s love and presents.

The holidays aren’t magic because of Santa. They’re magic because of love—most of which comes from mothers. This is your chance to let your child in on a little more magic. You might encourage them to become a Santa for someone in their own lives. Or maybe you go more concrete, and encourage reflection on all the ways patriarchy makes women’s labor invisible.

This is low stakes. Patriarchy wants you to think your choice is wrong, no matter what it is. Push back by politicizing that feeling, and finding ways to use Santa to teach deeper political lessons.

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