When I think about November and December, I picture the countdown to Christmas. People start decorating their homes, making small crafts, pulling out the same playlists they’ve used for years. I think about lighting a new candle each week in the Advent candelabra, watching the row slowly grow from the shortest to the tallest. I think about the Christmas food that we have to finish in time to watch Kalle Anka (Donald Duck). I grew up with that rhythm. I was born in Sweden to Swedish parents; one atheist, one loosely Christian, so the season has always carried a certain familiarity. But that familiarity isn’t universal.
My friend Amel Bensalah was also born in Sweden, to Algerian parents, and she is Muslim. She doesn’t celebrate Christmas. For her, November and December are just regular months, except that they can sense a heightened feeling of being on the outside looking in. It can sharpen the feelings of division and exclusion and at times, she says, even foster prejudices or give way to Islamophobia.
As a kid, Amel felt sad during this time of winter because of the bond that people hold in the Christmas seasons. She also wanted gifts and toffees, and she really wanted to see who Kalle Anka is. A lot of kids at school who were born in December told Amel how lucky she was to not celebrate Christmas, since she too was a December-kid.
Amel found these comments to be ignorant, even though she probably couldn’t find the right words for expressing those feelings back then. They didn’t see the bigger picture; that she had to stay quiet in a lot of conversations or nervously laugh to avoid a thousand questions. To feel included, she often asked what gifts the other kids had gotten during the holidays.
The exclusion did not end with being unable to partake in some of these conversations. Amel was also questioned about her beliefs and both she and her family got criticised for not celebrating. Amel explains how there have been numerous situations where kids and parents would compare her and her family to others with the same culture or religion. Most often, she was compared to other Muslims. They said things like: “But she/he is also Muslim and they celebrate Christmas.”
Amel would sometimes envy the gifts when she was younger, as mentioned above, but she didn’t feel that the other parts of Christmas were for her. She really values the principles she grew up with. Amel also explains that the rest – such as bringing family together – could be found in other traditions such as Eid. When parents would question her for being born and living in Sweden without celebrating Christmas, she often found herself frustrated because she did partake in other Swedish traditions such as Midsummer.
Sometimes, she even participated in the Easter celebration by dressing up and going out candy-hunting as an Easter witch; a practice which originated in Swedish folklore. Amel often had to endure comments from adults who would say things like: “There’s nothing wrong with celebrating Christmas”, “Why don’t you celebrate Christmas?”, “You should celebrate Christmas!” or “You’re not gonna go to hell just because of Christmas. You live in Sweden.”
She explains how these questions didn’t just stem from innocent curiosity; the underlying suspicion would remain even after Amel had explained her stance. People of all ages would label Amel and her family as being weird – sometimes straight to her face. Amel tells me how these sentiments often correlated with broader Islamophobia: “Oh, so you are fasting and stuff?” and, growing older: “Don’t you drink? You should.” Furthermore, Amel also had to handle the ever-increasing comparisons to other people: “I know this Muslim who does this, so why don’t you?” or “But you do that, so why don’t you do this?”
She felt pointed out in class as being non-Swedish or “too Muslim,” especially in regards to there being other Muslims in her class. Amel believes that it’s ignorant and disrespectful to someone who has made their choice. In Sweden, the law dictates and promotes freedom of religion; regardless of what those religious choices might entail.
“Almost all have been to elementary school; we have read about different religions. I wouldn’t go up to a Christian that moved to a non-Christian country and question why they celebrate Christmas.”
There are, however, different ways to satisfy one’s curiosity regarding other people’s religions. As Amel pointed out, there is an important distinction to be made between benevolent integration efforts on one hand, and condescending assimilation practices on the other. “Of course you can invite someone, or rather ask if they want to join, but you shouldn’t criticise that their family doesn’t celebrate. I told them we didn’t celebrate and that we didn’t want to.”
When Amel lived abroad, she befriended many Catholics; some of whom are still very close to her. When they were unable to go home and celebrate Christmas with their families, she joined them and celebrated locally without compromising her own religion. But those Christians also celebrated Eid when she couldn’t celebrate with her family.
“That is give and take. That is integration, not assimilation.”
Everything in Sweden is also oriented around Christian holidays. There’s at least one week when most people are home from school and work, and multiple public holidays (or “red days” as they’re called in Sweden). This was understandable however, since Swedish culture is largely rooted in Christian traditions. What seemed questionable though, was how kids and families felt pressured to lie to schools and employers in order to partake in one of Islam’s most important celebrations: Eid. “People never got granted time off to celebrate. Even now, my sister has to lie.”
To be clear, neither Amel nor I are saying that we should ban Christmas. But we also mean that one should not feel obliged to take part in it. People celebrating Christmas should be able to find joy and connect with their loved ones during this season, she says. However, one can be informed and understand that other cultures and religions exist and sometimes coexist. She continues to explain that everyone doesn’t celebrate in the same way, and they shouldn’t feel the need to. One can have an open mind about people’s differing cultural or religious orientations, instead of putting them under a magnifying glass and assuming something is wrong because of it.
↓ Image Attributions
[1]: “Storkyrkan – Julkrubba IM2426 C.JPG” by Anneli Salo // Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0
