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So, I have obviously never been to a mall Santa before. Nor have my kids. But it seems this Santa made a few critical errors beginning with: where in the job description is “no”?!
But if you’re gonna say “no” - don’t. But if you’re gonna - maybe don’t say it like this.
1/ https://twitter.com/whitehovse/status/1335855946405437440
But if you’re gonna say “no” - don’t. But if you’re gonna - maybe don’t say it like this.
1/ https://twitter.com/whitehovse/status/1335855946405437440
I mean, this kid doesn’t know you’re a fundamentalist Wokist in a red suit. He thinks you’re Santa. So when you just say “no” like he asked if you’ve got a light, he hears it as THE SANTA telling him he can’t have what his heart desires.
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So what’s a fundamentalist Wokist scold to do?! There are ignorant deplorables in need of re-education!
A few of options:
1) you could ignore the request. Move on. Ask the kid what else he wants remaining non-committal on the offending children’s toy.
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A few of options:
1) you could ignore the request. Move on. Ask the kid what else he wants remaining non-committal on the offending children’s toy.
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2) if you absolutely can’t control yourself - control yourself. But if you absolutely can’t - maybe tell little Johnny that Santa will think about the gun but he’s “not sure your little sister will like it so just in case, what else would you like?” Remember to smile.
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3) alternatively, you could be an adult, resist the temptation to waterboard the poor child with oppressive, insane leftism, and just enthusiastically tell him you’ll bring him the damn toy. It’s a toy, moron.
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All of this reminds me of a time in seminary when I was going through my semester of clinical pastoral education. I went into a room in the hospital where a young man had recently been diagnosed with cancer. He was pissed at everything - as most people would be.
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I walked in and told him I was working with the hospital chaplain and would he maybe want to speak to me or just have some company. He said - a little too firmly - “yes, get the fuck in here.”
Today, I would know what was happening. As a student, I didn’t.
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Today, I would know what was happening. As a student, I didn’t.
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He said to take my God and shove him up my ass. He said he had wasted years believing in all the bullshit that his parents told him and that people like me fed him and it was all a bunch of lies for weak, stupid people. He was yelling loudly enough that the nurse came in.
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I knew very little about this stuff, but I knew enough to know that his anger wasn’t about me - I was just the one in the room. And it may or may not have even been about God. Not for me to diagnose in three minutes.
So I sat quietly. And I listened.
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So I sat quietly. And I listened.
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After the nurse came in, he quieted down but was still taking out his anger on me and on the God he said he no longer believed in.
I just listened. Intently. Actively.
When he finished, he told me to leave. Impolitely. I started to. As o got up...
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I just listened. Intently. Actively.
When he finished, he told me to leave. Impolitely. I started to. As o got up...
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...I said that it sounded like he actually had a lot on his mind. Would it be okay if I came back and checked in to see if anything more needed to come out. He laughed at me and said “fuck off.”
But he didn’t say no.
So I went back. A few times.
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But he didn’t say no.
So I went back. A few times.
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I don’t know what happened to him. Our subsequent interactions weren’t a lot better. I hope he’s still alive. If not, I hope he died at peace.
I tell the story in relation to #WokeSanta for this reason:
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I tell the story in relation to #WokeSanta for this reason:
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He was attacking the things I hold dearest. I could’ve defended those things. But I realized in the moment that it wasn’t the time or place for a theology argument. I was there to try to help and I wouldn’t be helping that way.
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