All I Want for Christmas Is Latkes

This year, Christmas and Hanukkah fall on the same day. This special “Chrismukkah” happens roughly every 15 years. As an Agnostic Reform Jew, Hanukkah has always been a big deal for me, especially when I was younger. Every year, I painstakingly decorated a wishlist, slipped it under my parents’ bedroom door, and made sure we had placed our menorah-shaped fairy lights on the fireplace mantle. I always looked forward to seeing my family for our Hanukkah celebration, when my cousins and I would play dreidel and eat gelt and latkes. And, of course, I was enchanted by the story of the Jewish Maccabees defeating their oppressors; afterward, they lit the menorah in their temple with enough oil for one day, and the oil somehow lasted eight days—a miracle. 

However, there was always a little part of me that felt left out whenever I saw my friends wear Santa hats to school and I witnessed the bright Christmas lights that adorned my neighbor’s stoops. Christmas always seemed so idyllic to me because of how pretty the decorations were and how excited everyone always seemed for it. While I loved Hanukkah, it made me sad that many of my friends barely knew what it was. I couldn’t find many Hanukkah decorations in the supermarkets, even though there were Christmas ornaments and Santa merchandise on every shelf. Even worse, I felt guilt that came from this envy. Everywhere, Hanukkah seemed to pale in comparison to the Christmas cheer, which made me feel like a traitor to my religion for wanting to feel a bit of the magic that seemed so easily accessible to people who celebrated Christmas.

I love being Jewish. The food, the traditions, and the community at my synagogue are all a big part of who I am. I loved preparing for my Bat Mitzvah and going to my friends’ Bat Mitzvahs. While I was preparing for my Bat Mitzvah, my Rabbi affirmed that to be Jewish was to question Judaism and, as a Jewish woman, I could be Jewish in the way that I wanted to. 

This really made me seriously think about what my Judaism means to me. If I’m being completely honest, I’m not sure I believe God exists. My relationship with my Jewish identity has more to do with my community at my synagogue, the warm holiday celebrations with my family, and the amazing food. I love the Jewish tradition of eating Chinese food on Christmas Eve. I’ve never wanted to be Christian or to even celebrate Christmas. What I really wanted was some representation—some acknowledgement from the rest of the world that Hanukkah was special and magical. 

Hanukkah’s representation is also not very common in popular culture. Last year, I scoured the internet for books about Hanukkah that represented the magic that the holiday produces in real life. I only found three, and I only really like one. Hanukkah movies and TV representation are just as rare. I’ve only found a few episodes from older TV shows, besides the Hanukkah episode from the Rugrats—a Hanukkah staple among Hebrew schools and Jewish households—where the token Jewish character mentions the gifts they got for Hanukkah. The fact that I have to search for Hanukkah content in the first place is telling, especially when Christmas content is abundant during this time of year.

Yet, when I searched for music, I discovered something interesting. Although I only found a few Hanukkah songs I could stand, many of the Christmas songs that I loved and sang from November through December were, in fact, written by Jews. “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire” by Mel Torme; “Let it Snow” by Sammy Cahn and Jule Styne; “Santa Baby” by Joan Javits and Phil Springer; most famously, “White Christmas” by Irving Berlin; among others, these are famous songs that are staples of commercial Christmas cheer. However, they were somehow written by people who most likely didn’t celebrate Christmas at all. 

This gave me a new perspective on “the spirit of Christmas.” Jews do have some representation of holiday cheer—it was just hidden in Christmas music. Thinking about it this way made me feel that I wasn’t betraying my Jewish identity by singing along to these mostly secular songs. I was aware that the commercial “Christmas cheer” doesn’t actually include many religious aspects from the story of Christmas. I realized that I don’t have to feel guilty for liking a pretty song or for thinking a candy cane tastes good. I could separate secular Christmas traditions from Christianity, if I enjoyed them. 

Then, one year, we spent the December break in Paris with my grandparents. Although they are Jewish and light a menorah for Hanukkah, they also had a Christmas tree and gave us presents on Christmas. My father told me that this was a pretty normal thing for Jews to do in France, because Christmas is considered a national holiday. France has historically been very Catholic and hasn’t always been kind to Jews, but this was eye-opening for me. I had always thought that taking part in Christmas celebrations was something that made me a little less Jewish or compromised my identity as a Jew, but having a brightly decorated tree—a tradition they enjoyed—didn’t make my grandparents any less Jewish. They are fiercely Jewish and are proud of their Jewish traditions. 

So, I decided that I’m not going to feel guilty about these little things that make me feel festive during the holiday season. Who could help but feel happy when they see bright lights on evergreen trees or sip on a gingerbread latte? None of these things make me a traitor to my religion or to my history. I’m not going to be hosting a Christmas party any time soon, but I can blast “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” in my room and watch A Charlie Brown Christmas, even as I have a menorah in my room and eat sufganiyot—jelly doughnuts, a Hanukkah staple. 

I still wish that the world could pay as much attention to Hanukkah. It saddens me to see the one token Hanukkah sweater on clothing websites, compared to the many sweaters with different Christmas motifs. Starbucks doesn’t have a Hanukkah drink either. There should be more representation for a holiday that is so important for a Jewish childhood. I know I would have been incredibly happy when I was younger if a character in a book I had read celebrated Hanukkah or if there had been a Hanukkah Barbie doll to play with. But, I don’t want to feel sad during the holidays. The December break is a much-needed vacation from school, and during the upcoming weeks and the holiday itself, I want to find festivity and joy wherever I can. During Chrismukkah this year, with my grandparents, I’m looking forward to any form of cheer that I can get. I think I’ll have eggnog with my latkes.

Here are the Hanukkah books, songs, and TV episodes I have found and enjoy during this time of year! I hope you might enjoy them as well.

Books:

Eight Nights of Flirting - Hannah Reynolds

Eight Dates and Nights - Betsy Aldredge

The Matzah Ball - Jean Meltzer

Songs:

“Ocho Kandelikas” - Idina Menzel

“(I’m Spending) Hanukkah in Santa Monica” - Tom Lehrer

“Hanukkah Lovin” - Michelle Citrin

“The Chanukah Song” - Adam Sandler

TV shows:

The O.C. S1E13 - “The Best Chrismukkah Ever”

Rugrats S4E1 - “A Rugrats Chanukah”

Even Stevens S1E15 - “Heck of a Hanukkah”

The Nanny S6E10 - “The Hanukkah Story”