OC HIGH: STUDENT NESW AND VIEWS : Finding Hanukkah Amid All the Christmas Glitter

I’m in line at the local supermarket, picking up something that my mom needs for dinner. It is the time of year when colored lights adorn people’s garages, when the malls get busier, and when there are wreaths hanging from lampposts and lights on the buildings at the local shopping center.

The woman bagging my groceries looks down at my brother and says, “What’s Santa bringing you for Christmas?” He stops for a minute and then says, perhaps a bit self-consciously, “I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

Neither do I. But don’t feel sorry for us.

We are Jewish, and for us the holiday season is about Hanukkah, the holiday of lights, not Christmas.

When people find out that we are Jewish, the first thing they say is, “You mean, you don’t celebrate Christmas?” or “Can I give you a present even though you don’t celebrate Christmas?” Or, they say as the checker did to my brother: “Oh, I’m sorry.”

When December comes around, followed by the Christmas cheer and the lights that deck the houses on my street, I stay at the end of that street, separate from the celebration. We do participate in certain aspects of the holiday. For instance, every year my brother goes over to our friends’ house to help decorate their tree. I can look at the lights on our street; can watch the holiday movies on TV; can drink egg nog (that would be if I liked egg nog). But, it isn’t the same as taking part.

On Christmas Day, while many others are sitting together around their trees, laughing and celebrating their holiday, I am at home, feeling rather isolated from the celebrations at my neighbors’ homes. The day is always very quiet for me. Everything is closed, and if I go out, the city seems just deserted, no signs of life anywhere. A year ago on Christmas, my family and I went down a deserted freeway to a quiet movie theater to see “Schindler’s List,” a movie about Jewish history, in a theater filled with Jews.

On Christmas, most people are at home, with their families, celebrating the holiday. I see the buildup and the hype all season, and on this day, it all supposedly comes to a climax. But I have never been around to understand the ending. It’s like reading a long book, but stopping without ever finding out what happens in the end. Maybe this is why people feel sorry for us--because we don’t get to experience this time of joy.

But, then again, they don’t get to experience our Hanukkah.

No, we don’t have lights on our houses, or trees bedecked with ornaments. But we have our own traditions. Our latkes, our menorahs, our eight nights of celebration. It’s our own holiday and our own traditions, and they’re special to us like Christmas is to those who celebrate it.

While Jews may feel different from their Christian friends and unable to participate in many Christian traditions, living in a multicultural society means that each of our religious and ethnic groups can experience at least some of the traditions of other groups. This year, we celebrated one of the nights of Hanukkah at our house with non-Jewish friends, some of whom came to the United States from other countries.

On the down side, living in a multicultural society sometimes means feeling a bit left out from another religion’s holiday.

The value is in being able to experience others’ customs and traditions while still having your own.

And then again, who doesn’t like Christmas? Thanks to this holiday, I get off school for two weeks.