With the holiday season upon us, Santa Claus has been busy.  He’s been working at the mall, smiling on billboards, clinging to windows and perching on treetops.  With nostalgia in the air and family on our minds, my wife and I have also been busy sharing our childhood experiences of Christmas.  The similarities and differences in our experiences of this holiday got me thinking.

I didn’t grow up believing in Santa Claus, at least in the literal sense.  I was taught from an early age that Santa Claus was a symbol of everything we do and feel surrounding the holidays.  To my parents, this was both a matter of honesty and an opportunity to discuss the importance of everything Santa embodied.  Christmas was always a big deal for my family, and Santa was always present along with the Muppets Christmas album and our beloved plastic tree (evergreens are hard to find in Florida).

My wife grew up believing in Santa Claus, and she firmly believes her childhood Christmases were more meaningful as a result.  She waited for reindeer, listened for Santa, and is grateful to have grown up believing that—at least once a year—magic could exist.  Belief in Santa Claus was a way for her to experience a sense of wonder and possibility that can become difficult to sustain in adulthood.

Do these experiences represent distinct epistemologies passed onto us by our parents?  Does Santa Claus tell us something about what kind of knowledge we value?  Let us know what your family’s traditions—by no means restricted to the few I have mentioned—have taught you.

Enjoy your holidays, everybody.