Oh this is so fun!! I get to add religion to the tw list!!

TW: religion, parents, anti-semitism

If you don't like when people criticize Christmas than this oneshot is not for you.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Biana sings to nothing, an ironic smile gracing her lips as she twirls around her room. "Except for everyone else, of course. Happy holidays to you, for whenever your holidays fall. It must be around now, because everything revolves around me and my very special holiday. Don't you know? Haven't you heard? It's November! Christmas is right around the corner!"

She stops, arms falling against her sides, and frowns. "Yes, your holidays must be around now, all the important ones, right? I will not bother to learn what they are, because why should I take my head out of my own ass for once? You should learn ours, though. We matter more."

There is anger rising in her throat. It's always there this time of year, when the snow begins falling and the decorations start appearing. This burning anger that won't go away no matter how much she tries to convince herself this is just how the world is.

Of course it doesn't help. She hates settling almost as much as she hates the Santa hats that clash horribly with her eyes when her choir forces her to wear them.

Biana sighs as she plops down at her desk and pulls out two pens.

One is green, and one is red.

She hopes people will notice the irony if she ever shows this to anyone.

Taking out a blank sheet of paper, Biana titles the top of the paper in neat print, adding some fancy flourishes: Reasons Why I Hate Christmas.

...

Reason One:

The lights are blinding when they're on every house but mine.

...

Her menorah is pitifully minuscule next to Sophie's tree, but her friend grins widely and places it carefully on the table next to the gigantic behemoth of a pine tree.

"It's so pretty!" Sophie says, and Biana wants to grin. But the large cross on top of Sophie's Christmas tree casts a shadow that just happens to land over her menorah.

This is her favorite one, too. She painted it herself in shades of sparkly pink and gray stripes, and she's used it every year since the fourth grade. This year, though, Sophie had the idea to make a holiday display; Biana and Fitz bring Chanukkiot, Sophie brings the tree, and everyone else brings ornaments to hang on it.

Something about the way it turned out—with the tree towering next to her skinny little candles—makes Biana feel... small.

Insignificant.

Maybe a little alone.

She shakes off the feeling, attempting a smile as Sophie clicks the switch that activates the lights wrapped around the tree.

No one will look at her sparkly, lovingly painted menorah when the candlelight flickers weakly next to red and green bulbs.

No one will even notice it's there.

...

Reason Two:

Winter is just a season, until it does not just mean snow and sweaters.

...

"Winter is my favorite season," Dex grins, and his dimples flash onto his cheeks.

"Why?" Biana asks before she is forcibly reminded that her experiences are not universal, and she immediately regrets the question.

"Christmas," he answers. "My favorite holiday!"

Not hard to have a favorite holiday when you have so few, she almost says, but she bites the words back before they leave her mouth. "Wow," she says instead, the words falling flatter than she intended.

Because of course he's allowed to love Christmas. Of course he's allowed to love winter because of it.

But she isn't allowed to have winter anymore, not when everything in it has been painted with jolly fat men with long white beards.

She's heard the same thing so many times.

The, Why are you so frustrated? It's just winter! Everyone has winter!

The, Winter concert winter break winter songs winter sweaters winter bells winter holidays winter winter winter.

But it's never just a season. It's the holiday season, when she only has one holiday happening and at least four during the fall (not that they're acknowledged), and that's certainly not a holiday season.

So, she knows the game.

Winter. When Christmas is? When we have our...

Christmas concert christmas break christmas songs christmas sweaters christmas bells christmas holiday christmas christmas christmas.

You know.

Winter.

...

Reason Three:

I am not the one making everything about me.

...

The first time Biana heard it, she managed to get into a screaming match that left her red in the face.

Unfortunately, that screaming match happened to be with her father, and it made living with him frigid for the next months. Even now, she's not sure that the ice has melted.

It began with the usual.

"This song is about riding through the snow on a sleigh, Biana! It has nothing to do with Christmas, why does it matter if you're doing it for your winter concert?"

"Christmas concert, dad. And it is a Christmas song. Sleighs mean Santa and snow means winter means holidays means Christmas." She's right. She's right.

And he is always wrong.

"Stop making everything about you! About your oppression or whatever you want to call it!" Alden shouts, and Biana clenches her fists. "Does everything have to be invalidating you somehow?"

It only escalates from there, and soon Fitz has to step between them and lead her to her room, arm around her shoulders.

Later, as Biana sits in her room and rips the card he gave her for her birthday to pieces, she knows she won't regret what she said. She only wishes she said more.

Because sleighs had nothing to do with christmas until they decided santa rides one. Because reindeer were just animals until she colored them in with big red noses when she were too young to think about who she was. Because bells were just bells until they rang in the background of every song she heard when she walked into stores the day after Halloween.

And now they are all she can hear.

Red and green are colors until they are put together. Lights are beautiful until they are blinding.

...

Reason Four:

I can list off Christmas traditions, values, and which ornaments my friend puts on her tree. Most of you have never even heard of Yom Kippur.

...

Biana tells herself she will wear her star of david to the christmas—the winter concert, they say— this year. But it doesn't matter, because the hats they always have her wear will fit her into the same box as the rest of them.

You know.

Them.

Because she feels like there is a glaring beacon on her chest when she wears her star of david necklace, and she feels like everyone sees the stars pinned to her ears like they are mini spotlights.

But, of course, they don't. No one even notices her little protest, the only form of rebellion she is allowed to do.

There is an invisible wall between them. And she's the only one who can sense it there, because she's the one who's left behind it, pounding at it, waiting to be let through.

She's not naïve enough to think it could be shattered completely.

Biana tells herself she will request something different this year, something new. A single Hanukkah song to counter the three Christmas songs they have.

So she does. Even though she shouldn't be the only reason there are songs that she can sing with her whole heart instead of the little part of it she can offer for Jingle Bells.

Her teacher looks for Christmas songs to sing. He does not even try for anything else.

Why should she have to put the effort in to feel represented when every single one of her classmates see themselves so often that even she can quote bits of their bible that is a mockery of hers?

...

Reason Five:

The shocked faces you have when I tell you I don't celebrate have been getting old since the first time I saw them.

...

"Do you get gifts, at least?"

She's heard this one before. And she knows how to respond, even if she doesn't like it.

So Biana forces a smile. "Some do, but my family doesn't have that tradition."

She doesn't say, "It's actually the Christian mindset that's the reason some families give gifts, even though Hanukkah traditions never were about gifts. Check your westernization."

She doesn't say, "Is it a true terror to not have gifts? Is that really all you care about during Christmas? Can't I enjoy something without receiving what I don't need?"

She doesn't say, "Do you really think we are so horrible that the only tolerable thing about our holiday would be what we get to keep besides memories?"

She doesn't say these things.

But she wishes she could.

...

Reason Six:

Because of you, I am alone.

...

Do they know how they sound?

Do they know what she hears?

They say, "Why wouldn't you?

They say, "No, it has nothing to do with Christianity! There's no harm in trying!"

They say, "You are missing out on so much."

She hears, "Yes, I celebrate this. No, I will not let you celebrate that without a fight."

She hears, "What is that? Why not? What is wrong with you, that you are not the same as me?"

She hears, "I am the best, and you are not me, so you must be the worst."

She hears, "You are alone. You are alone. You are alone."

...

Reason Seven:

The world orbits around the sun, not you. The sun does not have a religion. The sun does not care about a dead martyr, and it most certainly does not give a single fuck about a wreath on a door. And neither do I, hard as it is to believe for you who live in your own universe.

...

Hi, I am in 10th grade, from a high school in Michigan, and we have been learning about judaism in class. Can you answer my questions? First, is it true that you don't celebrate Christmas?

Biana stares down at the letter blankly.

There is a sick feeling in her stomach, but there is anger burning in her throat.

Reading letters sent by a teenager who is a year older than she is, who knows so little that she wants to scream.

Is it true?

Is it true that you are not like me? Is it true that you are different? Is it true that you will never be like me, and I can never accept you being so different?

She wonders if they know how small they have made her feel.

So insignificant.

...

Reason Eight:

We came first. So why is Hanukkah called Jewish Christmas when they are nothing alike? Why do you say that our Chanukkiot are mimicking christmas trees, that we give gifts like you do, that our traditions belong to you, are copies of you?

Why does our history need to be erased to make room for yours?

...

...

Original poem:

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Except for everyone else, of course. Happy holidays to you, for whenever your holidays fall. It must be around now, because everything revolves around me.

I will not bother to learn when your holidays are, but I hope you know when mine is, because how could you not?

(the lights are blinding when they are on every house)

We play our songs and wrap our gifts and make our meals and click the switches that turn on the lights that wrap around the house that dazzle anyone who drives by at night. At least now they know what I am.

Why are you so frustrated? It's just winter! Everyone has winter!

Winter concert winter break winter songs winter sweaters winter bells winter holidays winter winter winter.

You know. Winter. When Christmas is? When we have our...

christmas concert christmas break christmas songs christmas sweaters christmas bells christmas holiday christmas christmas christmas

("do you get gifts, at least?" they ask, as if it is a terror to be forced to go without gifts for a holiday that has its own traditions, its own values, its own warmth)

Do you know how you sound?

Do you know what we hear?

we hear, "yes, I celebrate this. no, I will not let you celebrate that without a fight."

we hear, "what is that? why not? what is wrong with you, that you are not the same as me?"

we hear, "I am the best, and you are not me, so you must be the worst."

we hear, "you are alone. you are alone. you are alone."

("this song isn't even about christmas. it's about sleighs and snow and bells. why do you have to make everything about you?")

Do you get it now?

Because sleighs had nothing to do with christmas until you decided santa rides one. because reindeer were just animals until we colored them in with big red noses when we were too young to think about who we were. because bells were just bells until they rang in the background of every song we heard when we walked into stores after Halloween.

And now they are all we can hear.

Red and green are colors until they are put together.

So do you get it now?

("why won't you sing? why won't you laugh? why don't you care?")

I tell myself I will wear my star of david to the christmas concert this year. But it doesn't matter, because the hats they have us wear will fit me into the same box as the rest of them.

I tell myself I will request something different this year, something new.

My teacher looks for christmas songs to play. He does not even try for anything else.

("Hi, I am in 10th grade, from a high school in Michigan, and we have been learning about judaism in class. Can you answer my questions? First, is it true that you don't celebrate Christmas?")

You stamp on us, twisting your foot for good measure.

Christmas is a machine, and we have been ground into the gears of it,

You have tried so hard to make us invisible, and you have succeeded.

So congratulations. Happy holidays.

Merry Christmas.

I was feeling soooo bitter <3

If this made you guilty, angry, irritated, etc, then I suggest you consider why

This is not an exaggeration, by the way. The sound of jingle bells genuinely makes me angry. This is me projecting onto Biana.

Anyway, enjoy your holidays no matter what you celebrate!! this is mean to be a fun time, treat it like one!! /gen