Let’s start with an anecdote. I was standing outside on Madison Street getting some air when a woman ran at me across traffic at full speed and with reckless abandon to get to me. I did not know this woman but apparently she knew me. I know this because as she got closer I heard her screaming at the top of her lungs. “Santa! Santa!!”
Oh yeah, I guess I should mention that I was standing outside dressed from head to toe as Santa Claus for a Holiday Market. My first appearance as Santa since the pandemic. She finally gets to me, out of breath and panting, and says to me, “Can I take a picture with you?” Hesitantly, I said yes. Realizing that I was a bit uneasy she added, “I am sorry for the way I approached you, but in my 26 years on this Earth I have never seen another Black Santa besides my dad.”
In that moment I had inadvertently tapped into a deep well of nostalgia and holiday cheer. Later, when I recalled that encounter I cried at the pureness of that moment. Why was that so important to her? Why was it so important to me? I began to wonder about the importance of me, a Black man, being Santa. I started by looking into the history of the character.
Santa Claus was a real person. If you are not familiar, St. Nicholas of Myra (240-343 A.D.) was a bishop of Turkish descent. He was known for using his fortunes to help those who needed it by giving them gifts anonymously. Fast forward to the Middle Ages, and the Dutch began to celebrate Sinterklaasfeest, likely a combination of pre-Christianization Norse traditions (like the Wild Hunt) mixed with tales of St. Nicholas. There are also some weird, super-problematic depictions of Saint Nicholas having a Moorish servant named Black Pete though … so glad we have mostly evolved past that!
Seriously, look it up. By the 1800s, thanks to the poem, “A Visit from St. Nicholas” (you probably know it as “The Night Before Christmas”) by Clement C. Moore with illustration by Thomas Nast, Santa was reimagined even further, depicting him not as a man, but as “a right jolly old elf,” who through magic reindeer brought presents down the chimney for sleeping littles. In the 1900s, L. Frank Baum (yes, author of Wizard of Oz) added to his mythos with his book, The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus. Then in the 1930s, Coca-Cola’s Christmas advertising cemented this mythical figure’s image into the ethos of commercial Christmas.
But what about the history of Black people depicting Santa?
In 2021, Nationalsanta.com surveyed people who do Santa work. Of the 376 people who took the survey, two were Black. This actually made a lot of sense to me. Growing up, I always heard more pushback about Afrocentric depiction of Santa than actually seeing Black Santas. Right-wing commentators like Megyn Kelly tell people to remember that Santa is white (Actually he is Turkish and of Greek descent, not the constructed identity of “white”). Do a Reddit search of Black Santa and see how many “hot takes” you get of people denouncing the idea of Santa being anything other than white (again, Turkish Greek not “white”).
So why is it so damned important to so many people to see Santa as something other than white? Then it hit me.
Miles Gonzalo Morales! Miles Morales!! A half-Black, half Puerto Rican kid from Queens is Spider-Man. Since 1962, Spider-Man could only be Peter Parker, a white kid. Until Donald Glover dared to dream about being Spider-Man (check out the Community episode Anthropology 101) and Brian Michael Bendis, who was writing Ultimate Spider-Man at the time, was inspired. In that moment, we said to generations of young Black kids who have been historically depicted as thugs in every form of media and even in real-life news coverage, that anyone can wear the mask. Anyone can do good things. Anyone can be a hero.
Only white men could be president until Barack Obama dreamed that he could be too. The more aspirational figures we have to look up to that look like us, the easier it is to believe that we can be more than what society tells us we are.
The enduring legacy of St. Nicholas of Myra is that people are so inspired by his acts of charity, they dress up to make children’s holidays a little brighter. Over the years, other cultures have added to his mythic representation. This is simply the next step in Santa’s evolution.
It shouldn’t stop there by the way. Latinx Santas, East Asian Santas, South Asian Santas. Drag Santas, Female Santas. Just as Miles taught us that anyone can wear the mask, anyone can ride the sleigh. The only thing you really need is the capacity to listen to the dreams of children and see the magic that they see. How lucky I am to be able to be a part of that legacy. To carry that responsibility.
I will end with this. A week ago, I had a little Black boy so excited to see me that he ran up to me, jumped into my arms, and told me what he wanted most for Christmas. I had toys to hand out so I gave him one and, after talking with him and wishing him a Merry Christmas, he walked away — only to come back for another hug and told me, “I don’t need the present I just wanted to meet you” and hugged me so tightly I could feel his little heart beating with joy in his chest.
I think one day he will ride the sleigh too.
That is the importance of being Santa to me.
Source:
https://www.nationalsanta.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/2021-Red-Suit-Statistics-Release-1 11421.pdf
