No, because we fail to celebrate other faiths
In 2015, Starbucks caused a stir when it released its newly redesigned holiday cups. The cups were red. Just red. No Christmas trees, reindeer or other traditional hallmarks of their holiday season cups.
It was a concerted effort on the part of a major multinational corporation to recognize that we live in an extremely diverse and multicultural world and to be inclusive of all the holidays celebrated between November and January, it made its cups plain red.
People were not happy. They railed against Starbucks for joining in the “war on Christmas.”
For those of us who don’t celebrate Christmas, the red cup was a wonderful moment of a major company taking a clear public step to be inclusive of other faiths.
By the following winter, the red cups were gone. They were replaced by overtly Christmas-themed cups featuring ornate designs by a Ukrainian artist. Starbucks’ great experiment at inclusivity was over.
While it may sound silly to care about what’s on Starbucks’ holiday cups, think about this:
The average downtown Starbucks in a large city serves more than 500 customers a day. That’s 500 cups going from that Starbucks out onto the street and to park benches, office desks and public waste bins. It’s 500 cups, multiplied by every other downtown location. When 500 Starbucks cups go walking down the street covered in Christmas trees and reindeer they are sending a definite message about the reigning position of Christianity in our purportedly secular society.
The red cup was a step toward atoning for the overt lack of inclusion of other religions in corporate holiday celebrations. It was Starbucks’ version of saying “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas.”
For my entire life, I have walked into stores and restaurants from late November to the end of December and been greeted by the phrase “Merry Christmas.” I have been met by open disregard and, at times, disdain when I tell peers, teammates, strangers and even teachers that I don’t celebrate Christmas.
As a child, I pretended to celebrate Christmas for the sake of elderly people in cafés who asked me what presents I got. I have refrained from correcting people out of sheer tiredness. But I’m done.
Every time I go into an establishment and someone wishes me “Merry Christmas” I get a little sad. I get a little sad because despite all of the online and print campaigns I have seen encouraging inclusivity by saying “Happy Holidays,” people still fail to recognize any winter holiday other than Christmas; they fail to account for me, and so many people like me, who joyfully celebrate something else.
If you are thinking that I should just “assume best intent” then I would advise you stop. Just stop. I have assumed best intent my entire life.
But if I’m being honest, I don’t really assume best intent; I assume ignorance. And if you’re being honest with yourself, and if you live in an extremely diverse and multicultural country, like all of us in Canada do, then to assume that every person who walks in the door celebrates Christmas, or that it is OK to make that assumption, is genuinely ignorant.
Assuming ignorance is easier, and better, than assuming best intent. If I assume best intent, it means I need to silently accept that my holidays aren’t important; that my faith shouldn’t be openly acknowledged or celebrated. But if I assume ignorance, then it means I believe the “Merry Christmas” sayer can learn how wonderful diversity is. If I assume ignorance, then I don’t have to stay silent, because I can actively work to promote the celebration of diversity.
Global anti-Semitism is on the rise, and while it is more complicated than plain ignorance, and saying “Happy Holidays” is not a definitive solution, it’s a step in the right direction. And right now, what we really need is a step in the right direction.
The hate that starts with Jews never ends there; it goes to Muslims, members of the LGBTQ+ community, people of different political affiliations, spreading to everyone who is not exactly the same as you.
This year, let’s fight hate with compassion. This year, let’s bring back the red cup.