The American Public's Fascination With the Undead

Zombies aren’t pretty creatures. Popular media depicts them in assorted states of decay. They shamble. They’re insatiable cannibals. And, well, they’re dead. So why can’t we get enough of them?

Ashes to Ashes: Communitas and Religious Symbols

How does do Ashes worn by Catholics for Ash Wednesday differ from other outward symbols of religiosity?

O' (Public) Christmas Tree!

Does your town or city have an annual tree lighting ceremony?

In New York City, the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree tradition appears to have been inadvertently started by construction workers who placed a tree at the site in 1931. The National Tree has been a tradition since 1923. But it seems likely that the practice of erecting community trees predates any sanctioned event. [Image Right: The Stock Exchange Tree. Dec. 09.]

Trees have become an important aspect of the holiday season. This year, I've been largely successful at saving my Christmas tree from the destructive forces that are my cats. I don't really blame them for thinking that the large green thing is there for their climbing amusement, but I am almost always disappointed when I find that they made cat-sized holes in different parts of the tree. The tree is important to my commemoration of the holiday. It provides the focal point in my home for the festivities, and reminds me of festive childhood celebrations.

This history of the Christmas tree is connected to our discussion on light. As the days grew shorter and the landscape bare, special significance was tied to evergreen bushes and trees, which displayed a perceived resilience against anti-growing conditions. While public trees are also reminders of the holiday season, and contribute to the festive atmosphere, it is perhaps this likely forgotten aspect of the tree tradition helps it appeal to both secular and non-secular holiday participants—thereby making community trees appropriate/acceptable public symbols. Or does it? This symbolism is probably not known to most people, who may view the Christmas tree tradition as inherent to Christianity—and it has come to have strong connections to the Christian faith. Are public trees a nuisance to persons of other faiths? Or has this particular image become so mainstream that it is accepted without much additional thought? For the trees on this page, the tourists streamed by without giving them much notice. And the tree in Rockefeller Center is more of a general attraction than an icon in the traditional sense. [Image Left: The South Street Seaport Tree, Dec. 09.]

However, though many people might pass Christmas trees without giving them much notice, some certainly noticed the menorah standing at an entrance to the Fort Greene Park and questioned whether it was a violation of church and state since it stands on government land. The Chabad that sponsored the display actually obtained a permit from the park to do so, and park officials maintain that one Christmas tree and one Menorah are permitted to be displayed—if someone applies to sponsor it. The initial responses to the post have called for tolerance with religious symbols.

It is acceptable to display physical representations of the holiday season?  Share your thoughts on public symbols of the holidays below.

Light for Us All—Symbolically Speaking

Updated to include link to NYT holiday light feature (see below).

Though Diwali and Hanukkah may be two of the more well-known festivals of light, religions and cultures around the world have have long observed festivals in the meant to drive away the imagery and meaning associated with the colder, longer days that mark the end of the growing season. Both figuratively and literally, on the darkest of days, people wish for light. As the days grow shorter and sometimes colder, and the earth stands barren until growth can begin anew, people's thoughts turn to warmth, life, and light. Light drives away the darkness. It symbolizes hope and beginnings, knowledge and safety. According to History.com, festivals of light often occurred at the end of December because it marked the end of the agricultural season: livestock was slaughtered so that they would not have to fed in the coming cold months (and provided a supply of fresh meat that may have been scarce throughout the year), the last of the harvests were been brought in bringing a reprieve from field labor, and beer and wine had likely finished fermenting. [Image Above Right: Diyas lit for Diwali © Photofurl. | Image Bottom Left: Menorah.]

Much in the same way All Hallow's Eve and All Saints Day were promoted by the Catholic Church to replace Samhain, so too did Christmas become established in December as a means to replace Sol Invictus and Saturnalia. Christmas, literally Christ's Mass, has long been held by Catholics as the birthday of Jesus. However, there is some doubt today that Jesus was actually born on December 25th—or even in December for that matter. While Christmas is still a largely Christian holiday, there are certainly secular elements to it. Many cultures observe Christmas traditions—cards, gift exchanges, holiday decorations, etc.—without the religious overtones. The spread of Christmas practices has been aided by commercial promotions that push the traditions sans the religious elements. For example, there are non-religious holiday greeting cards, and festive and whimsical holiday wrapping paper and decorations that have little to do with the traditional Christmas symbols. While my Hindu neighbors don't have a Christmas tree, they have strung clear lights in their porch "to make their home festive, 'cause, it's the holidays."

Image Above: Holiday lights adorn a neighbor's house.

The element that seems to connect both the secular and non-secular participants of the Christmas season is lights, which brings us back to the roots of the season's festivals. Our connection to light seems to be universal—meaning, whatever our religious or cultural beliefs, light holds the same symbolic meanings for us all. This shared connection is apparent throughout history: the presence of temples dedicated to the sun, the orienting of temples to face the sun, and the worship of sun deities attest to the connection we have felt through the ages to light. More than just a colorful holiday decoration, in their own way the stringing of holiday lights seems to echo humanity's earlier attempts to invoke the power of light.

{Image Above: Another holiday home.]

However you choose to drive the darkness away, know that you aren't alone. People have been looking for ways to celebrate light throughout the ages. Do you know of or practice a light festival? Share below.

Also, the NYT has a feature on holiday lights as submitted by readers, which you can view here.

Negotiating Private Beliefs and Public Behavior With the Meter Running

Last week was a relatively busy one. While the Yankees were being paraded down Broadway and Mayor Bloomberg was holding on determinately for a chance at another term in office, regular people were contending with the social order. Last week Paul Bruno and his partner, Erick Ruales, were ejected from a New York City cab because they were engaged in public displays of affection in the backseat. Bruno and his partner allegedly "sat close," possibly hugging (maybe they shared a kiss), which the driver, Medhat Mohamed, found distracting and felt compromised his ability to get them to their destination. Mohamed was ultimately concerned that their snuggling was a precursor to sex, and two blocks into the ride, demanded that they exit the cab. Bruno and Ruales were appalled at their treatment and have filed a complaint against the driver. The Taxi and Limousine Commission is currently investigating. If Mohamed is found guilty of a "service refusal," he could be fined. According to the Post (which has surprisingly provided in-depth coverage of the story—the newspaper has a reputation for tabloid-quality writing), "the first offense is a $200 to $350 fine, the second a $350 to $500 fine and a 30-day suspension, and the third strike is license revocation." [Image Right: Paul Bruno, Credit NY Post.]

While the Village Voice has wryly noted that being kicked out of a cab is a mark of a true New Yorker, in a city whose history is steeped in diversity, tolerance is a city standard—and in an interesting twist is seemingly being preached on behalf of both sides: The public response has provided support for both Bruno and Ruales, and Mohamed as well. The cabbie's supporters state that he has a right to a work environment where he is both safe and comfortable. And he does. However, he is also a service provider. He is not a city worker, but he engages the public on a regular basis. It is his livelihood. In his line of work, his job is take people—provided they don't present a threat to his well-being and can pay the fare—from Point A to Point B. Of course he has to right to ensure that his personal safety is not compromised—but at what point do such decisions come to be regarded as profiling? Is he given a set criteria against which to measure safety? Hardly, because the issue of personal safety is not a concrete measure. The line separating these types of decisions is a fine one, open to personal beliefs, which is not a fair measure for either party.

In Minnesota, Muslim cab drivers objected to transporting passengers who had been drinking or who were carrying alcohol, such as wine, from the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport because it violated the terms of their religion. According to one driver,

"The one who drinks, the one who transports, and the one who makes a business of it, they have the same category."

These drivers argued that transporting passengers who have been drinking or who are carrying alcohol violated their religious freedom. And they are right. However, like Mohamed, they have entered a profession that requires them to work with all members of the public. As a result, the Minnesotan cab drivers have also faced investigations for service refusal, although the Metropolitan Airport Commission is working with them to mediate the situation. They suggested that cabbies who would not transport passengers carrying alcohol install lights on their roofs to indicate their non-alcohol stipulation, but this policy met a poor reception. For now, cabbies must move to the back of the queue, which could mean another three hour wait between fares. This is an industry that relies on people's need to travel when they themselves are unable to to provide the transportation. In New York City, inebriated party-goers are encouraged to take advantage of mass transit options, which includes cabs, to protect both themselves and other motorists from drunk driving accidents. Is there room here for this type of negotiation?

People get kicked out of cabs all the time, for being disorderly, for getting sick, and for getting too frisky in the backseat. But Bruno and Mohamed have raised issues of discrimination and religious beliefs. The medallion holder for Mohamed's cab has stated that according to Islam, displays of affection between same-sex couples are unacceptable. To avoid penalties and possibly losing his license, Mohamed has has to prove that his discomfort was not caused by the sexual orientation of his passengers, that he would have accorded a straight couple with the same treatment. Mayor Bloomberg has denounced the cab driver (with the politician's disclaimer that he does so only if the story is as stated) saying that

"Somebody's orientation has absolutely nothing to do with whether they can ride a taxi. That kind of attitude doesn't fit with what this city's become."

Is there room for Mohamed's religious argument? In discussing this case with someone, he argued time and time again that despite the civil right issues, Mohamed is an independent operator, and like other businesses, he has a right to determine how he will do business and with whom. But in a business that has such a broad reach, is this argument justifiable? When working with the public, where does the line between personal beliefs get drawn? PDA's are everywhere. People hold hands on the street, they may kiss at the bar, and I won't get into what I've seen happen on the subway. If there is to be a standard for public behavior, then it needs to be explicitly stated and enforced—and not by a New York City cab driver, whose sole responsibility is to get his fares to their destination quickly and safely.  But beyond questions of public decency and disorderly conduct, which are fairly subjective judgments, how can such a standard be set? The law states with regard to public decency and disturbing the peace that persons whose behavior

endangers the public peace or health or which openly outrages public decency for which no other punishment is expressly prescribed by this code, is guilty of a misdemeanor.

In other words, there is no concrete measure—anything found offensive can be filed under this heading. Did Bruno and Ruales endanger the public peace? Did they openly outrage public decency? Are they guilty of a misdemeanor? On whose measure are they to be judged? Did Mohamed endanger public peace or outrage public decency? There is clearly a lot of room here for interpretation. And the interpretation can be colored by personal biases. Is this a case of personal belief coloring business practices? Talk back below. [Image Left: Medhat Mohamed. Credit James Messerschmidt, NY Post.]

The Spirit of America—Haunted and Hallowed

When describing American society, the traditional image has been that of a melting pot. The idea being that immigrants to the United States assimilated, leaving behind their traditions and values. For an emerging nation seeking to establish itself the politics of sameness may have been a unifying force. But while early immigrants may have been unable to import tools to support traditions and cultural practices, the rise of globalism eased this challenge and made it easier for immigrants to remember their histories. Increasingly today, to be American does not imply a standard set of traditions and values—there is room to remember your own roots. We are a richer culture for it. For this reason, the metaphor describing Americans has shifted to favor cultural diversity, proposing an image of a tossed salad or salad bowl: the different ingredients in the salad each retain their individual properties but are united in the salad bowl. My trouble with this image is that it doesn't account for the common element that binds people together in the formation of a nation. If we are a nation of salad ingredients, are we held together by dressing? The bowl?

There are certain traditions and practices that seem to reach through culture. They are shaped by multiple histories and adopted by most people, making them social markers. Halloween is one such observance. Its history is rooted in the past. As an observance, it has been touched and shaped by major political and social forces through the ages. Today it is celebrated around the world in some form, providing a unifying basis for many people. In America, the present form of Halloween suggests that perhaps we should consider describing our nation as a patchwork quilt. We are different elements, even unique elements, sewn together by an underlying belief in freedom. That we can all share in Halloween festivities regardless of our ancestry suggests that festivals that are flexible can not only survive, but bind people together.

[Image: A local graveyard installed on a neighbor's lawn.]

Halloween traces its roots to the Gaelic festival of Samhain, which was marked on November 1st by the Celts. It was a harvest festival—timed to prepare for the coming cold. It was a moment of change, and during this transitory period the Celts believed the border between this world and the next was thinnest: Spirits could pass easily into this world to walk the earth. On Samhain night, the Celts wore animal skins to confuse the spirits and to avoid their tricks. It was also thought that because the spirit world was so close that this was an optimal night for divination. To thank the earth for the harvest, the Celts offered blood sacrifices, such as livestock, and Druids read the entrails of the animals to foresee what lay ahead—who would die, who would marry, etc. The predictions provided entertainment for the evening.

While Samhain was being observed by the Celts, the Romans were worshiping the goddess Pomona in a similar harvest festival. The offered her fruits, notably apples—the basis for bobbing for apples. When the Romans conquered the lands that the Celts occupied, the two traditions merged. However, the rise of Christianity did not permit the worship of nature spirits. A concerted effort began to erase Samhain, which stood as a symbol of paganism. The conversion of Constantine helped this cause, but missionaries found it difficult to carry out his orders, so they devised a plan to modify paganism to mask Christian beliefs. In the 8th century, Pope Gregory III turned Samhain into All Saints Day—a day to honor the saints who did not have a special day already. The eve of All Saints Day, All Hallows Day, became the day in which the practices of Samhain were observed. The "evening of Hallows" ultimately became Halloween. [Image: A modern day ghost.]

People continued to dress in animal skins, put out offerings for spirits, and mark Samhain in the name of All Hallows. In the 10th century, November 2 was pronounced All Souls Day. It was a day to honor all dead—the church's attempt to completely replace Samhain with a church sanctioned holiday. The resilience of what we call Halloween suggests it provides us, as human beings, with something we are reluctant to relinquish. Halloween permits us to believe in a spiritual world that we can reach without the intervention of a empowered other, such as a priest. In fact, it was on these grounds that the church ultimately splintered: In 1517, Martin Luther would nail The Ninety-Five Theses to a church door, discrediting the practice of indulgences, and bringing about the Protestant Reformation. Luther sought to bring people closer to god, without the help of priests or saints. All Saints Day was cast aside, and Halloween become a symbol of protest.

Halloween in the American colonies was a scant affair. The Puritans who settled here found the holiday too pagan and too Catholic. It was the arrival of the Irish in America that helped Halloween blossom:

• The Irish originally carved turnips to frighten away "Stingy Jack," who made an ill-fated deal with the devil and was forced to wander the world with a lump of coal in a turnip to light his way, which people called "jack-o-lanterns." Turnips were harder to come by in America, but pumpkins were available and easy to carve—and the name stuck.
  

• As mentioned, Halloween night was a time when spirits would walk about and play tricks on people. Ireland is littered with fairy mounds, and the Irish believed that fairies would emerge from their mounds on this night. The practice of costuming and the tradition of tricks on Halloween night is meant confuse these spirits.

• Halloween night is an optimal time for divination. There are several Halloween games that allow you to predict your romantic future which are played today. Similarly, the practice of telling these predictions gives us the precursor for telling ghost stories on this haunted night.

• The word witch comes from an English word, wicca, meaning wise one. The embodiment of the witch as evil was so powerful that animals associated with witches also became powerful—cats, which are nocturnal, were thought to be the wandering spirit of the witch. Today, black cats are a popular decoration item.

• Bonfires were a big part of the Samhain celebrations. But bonfires would attract mosquitoes, which in turn would attract bats, which also became a popular Halloween decoration.
  

We have woven these elements together to create our own particular brand of Halloween. People add their own touches to the holiday all the time. In this way, Halloween can belong to all of us and still hold its mystique. Its survival despite the church's attempts to sanitize and edit it as a festival and observance is something that many immigrant groups can relate to—whether they do so consciously or not. And in some ways, its survival represents the American ideal: that you can come here, from anywhere, and live free of persecution and be accepted. This is an idea that many Americans hold to be sacred—though not many may know that a supposed spooky tradition embodies this ideal.

What are your favorite Halloween traditions? Share them below.

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