Due to this whole hurricane and natural disaster business, I think most of us forgot Halloween (well those of us living in the States at least) and let me just say, I LOVE HALLOWEEN. Since I was a kid to adulthood, I just love, love, love it. I don't care if it's a celebration of the devil, call me evil then because I j'adore it!
Maybe the reason I love this particular holiday so much is because of my childhood. Yes, this is another childhood story so quit rollin' your eyes and asking yourself 'why me' cause at the end of the day YOU clicked the link.
As you know by now, I'm Muslim and grew up in a fairly liberal home (that is until recently but that's a whole other blog). Traditional Muslim values ruled the roost in our parental units domain in the iron fist control of Ammu (mom). Abbu (dad) wasn't as religious and as long as I could remember, he was pretty much about the most liberal human being on earth, determined to make life mostly about fun and more importantly, music. My family was liberal enough to assimilate to living in this country but that didn't mean we were allowed to run amok and convert completely. For instance, no shorts, no pork, no dating, no talking to boys (or for my brother, girls) and the list did go on. For the most part these rules weren't hard to follow but there were some I struggled royally with, like wanting to celebrate Christmas as I mentioned before in a prior blog. Halloween was another biggie for me. As a super young child I suppose my mother didn't feel the need to even entertain this particular holiday and if she did, I certainly can't remember. Not to say that she didn't pass out candy to the lil monsters who approached our homes but we just weren't apart of their clan, much to my distress.
I begged nearly every year for her to let me participate, that my dream to don on a pretty costume and go get candy from strangers wasn't reaching all that high really. But she would have none of it, telling me that I would get used to disappointment through life (and then she would go get me and my bro a bag of chocolates to make it up to us...of course it did, I mean hey we were like in single digits back then). But i was still plenty disgruntled and would complain on and on and on (seriously I don't know how she put up with me, i was such a supremely obnoxious child). Finally though, I tore down her defenses enough to emotionally blackmail her into getting us costumes. I think it was also partially that she wanted to just shut me up. Oh well, anything in a storm right?
Funny how I don't remember the costume but more so the experience of getting it. I rushed home from school, lunch box clutched in one hand and my big school bag whacking me repeatedly on the back as I didn't walk, but ran home because nothing could hold me back. No doubt, I was on a serious mission. I had bragged to all my friends that day that I too would be choosing a costume. I didn't care if any of them were impressed, it was the fact that I could actually say that fact and mean it. Once home I bounced around my mother until she snapped that until I ate my dinner we weren't going anywhere. Boy you never saw a kid eat so fast in your life. Hoover had nothing on me that day.
We finally made it to the local Toys-R-Us (I'm sad to say that very same Toys-R-Us has most recently been torn down and is being made into an Asian food market after all these years...really? What the heck is wrong with this picture? Where the fudgenuts do people take their kids for toy shopping anymore or is it now all online? So wrong I tell you, so very incredibly wrong!) walking into what could only be complete Halloween nirvana. Ghouls hung from the ceiling, scary witches propped in corners, all sorts of fun decorations lining the walls and the crowd was milling around all over the place. i was so spell bound that my mother nearly had to haul me through everyone to get to the aisle where the costumes were. Even back then glossy colorful pictures of costumes were tacked to a vast wall and you would chose according to some code. I really can't remember again what I wore, I believe it was some princessy sort of contraption and my brother went for the superhero look but the one thing that was clear, I couldn't seem to make up my darn mind. I kept pointing from one costume picture to another, practically bouncing in place while squealing "Ooooo that one! no no wait that one! OMG THAT ONE!!!!"
Ammu is nothing if not efficient and after enough of this nonsense she put her foot down, told me to pick something or we would leave empty handed and that was pretty much it. I made my decision, we ordered the costume (which seemed to take forever to come out to us because the pimply skinned kid working there seemed so over it and had no sense of urgency at all) and once my hands wrapped around the plastic bag, I wasn't going to let go.
Most of the details post purchasing the costume are fuzzy to me but a few things are still as clear as yesterday...1.) I slept with the costume next to me in bed, 2.) I would put it on every single day after coming home from school worried that may be I had grown out of it 3.) I was totally and utterly in love with that silly thing and had finally felt as if I was apart of the 'real' and 'normal' world. Oh gosh, childhood truly was so simple.
Anyhow, everything was going fairly smoothly for me. Not only did I have a cute costume, but I also could participate in the Halloween parade. In prior years I had been allowed to walk with the other kids even if I was in jeans and a shirt :| That year would be different and it was! i wore my outfit with pride, earning impressed looks from my friends and coo-ing comments from the teachers about how precious I looked. Darn it I really wish I remembered precisely what I wore. Oh well...
That night I ran home mentally prepared for my first trick or treating. Dinner was especially hard to choke down but I did it and finally it was time. I stood at the door with a bag in hand ready to go. my mother was on the sofa watching television completely ignoring me.
I finally said 'can we go now?'
She looked up and responded in a slightly confused voice, 'what? Where are we going?'
'Ammuuuuuuu, trick or treating!' (I mentally threw in a 'duh' but had I said it out loud I would have gotten a tanning)
'What? When did I say we would do that? Stop being crazy and sit down. You know you're not allowed to go trick or treating.' She turned back to the television without a second look.
I stood staring at her open-mouthed for more than several moments, completely unprepared for that response. I looked at my brother and honestly he didn't seem in the least bothered. he just gave me one of those horrid older brother shrugs and went back to watching whatever it was the rest of the family was. I wanted to throw an epic fit, wanted to scream and shout out how unfair the situation was, how that finally my dreams were in reaching distance yet completely and utterly unattainable. But I didn't. Instead, I sat my butt down and sulked, blinking back tears of sorrow. Shortly thereafter our doorbell bing-bonged and I ran to throw it open and greet about 10 kids in varying costumes. My mother gave me the basket full of chocolate and gently pushed me in their direction instructing me to give them one a piece (they were full sized chocolate bars).
This was an honor indeed for only my mother passed out the treats. As I doled out the Hershey and Snickers bars, I received compliments on my own outfit and was thanked roundly for the goodies. This went on all evening, me constantly at the door greeting kids and giving out candy until finally, exhausted I announced that we were out. The front porch light went off, the door closed and I finally sat down with a satisfied smile, having forgotten completely about the fact that I had been unable to actually go trick or treating myself.
Somehow, and I have to admire her for it, my mother managed to make Halloween a part of us without making us a part of it. Does that make sense? She had in her own way let me enjoy the holiday without compromising her own rules. She did so with a firmness that I (now) admire without alienating us from the society we were so clearly a part of.
I can tell you this much, as teenagers, she finally relented in letting us go out on Halloween night to beg for candy (I mean seriously that's what it is, isn't it?), to the local school fair or parties. It wasn't because she was suddenly embracing Halloween but because we were older and had her teachings instilled within us firmly. We knew what Halloween was all about and were responsible enough to comprehend that it was most certainly not apart of our religion. May be at that very young and tender age, my mom feared a sort of Americanized brainwashing but as we grew, she was more assured of the people we turned into.
Now as an adult I still very much embrace the spirit of Halloween. In years past I have taken the time to be outside on cool fall days to carefully stretch out cobwebs over the bushes edging my front walk, have thrust cracked tombstones oozing blood into the ground, even stuffed old clothes and propped a pitchfork next to it on a chair on my front porch. There have been lighted skeletons hanging from hooks swinging in the wind and a zombie clawing it's way out of the ground slightly enshrouded in mist. There has even been a screaming skull that pours blood down it's face as you approach to ring the door bell. It is about the scariest blood-curdling scream one can hear for miles around. And much to my delight people had come from all over the neighborhood to take a look at my handiwork. On the night itself I have enthusiastically donned a witches hat to hand out candy gleefully, ooh-ing and aah-ing over the little ghouls, super heroes, princesses and whatnot. Nothing beats hearing a round of 'Happy Halloween!' ringing through the dark clear night as the kids eagerly come to claim their treat.
It's been a few years though since I've made that sort of effort. First it was moving homes and I had misplaced the box of decorations, then after that it was work pressure that kept me from really going to town on a house that was just crying out for a couple of eerie looking ghosts, and after that...well Muslim holidays. My mother would be proud to know (if she ever was curious) that the real reason I never put up all my decorations has been because I respected my own religious holiday and therefore refrained. This year, a certain hurricane kept me indoors and my beloved possessions safe. See those lessons of childhoods were well learned and those fears she had, were baseless after all.
Anyhow, I must comment here that this year when I clicked onto facebook I spotted so many of my friends posting pictures of their lil ones in get-ups and costumes and I admit I felt so very...happy. Not only did I just simply enjoy seeing the kids all made up (and in some cases the mothers and fathers) but also, for many of these people who I knew came from fairly strict Muslim families themselves, I appreciated that they were embracing the occasion and indulging their kids. I commend all you moms and dads for understanding that when you put more meaning into something then there truly is, that's often when one loses the very spirit of the occasion, an opportunity to share something that's just pure fun with your child, let them be for a moment one of their favorite characters and have a plethora of candy that overwhelms them into squeals of delight.
I'm sure there are plenty of people who probably can and would argue with me about the evils of this particular holiday (whether you be Muslim, Christian, Hindu, Jew, etc...) but please, try to understand where I'm coming from. I remember so clearly the disappointment I suffered as that young child who sat inside her home unable to join the other kids roaming in big groups with parents clutching goofy looking plastic pumpkins. I ask you to remember that if you are going to live here, bring your children up to be Americans while exposing your kids to such holidays yet you forbid that they can not be apart of it, please, at least take the time to think how you would have felt if you also had to take a step in their shoes. In this way, your heart may melt a bit and you can glance into your child's smiling face and say to yourself "okay, so she/he has not joined a coven simply because he/she went to the neighbors place for a tootsie roll".
I begged nearly every year for her to let me participate, that my dream to don on a pretty costume and go get candy from strangers wasn't reaching all that high really. But she would have none of it, telling me that I would get used to disappointment through life (and then she would go get me and my bro a bag of chocolates to make it up to us...of course it did, I mean hey we were like in single digits back then). But i was still plenty disgruntled and would complain on and on and on (seriously I don't know how she put up with me, i was such a supremely obnoxious child). Finally though, I tore down her defenses enough to emotionally blackmail her into getting us costumes. I think it was also partially that she wanted to just shut me up. Oh well, anything in a storm right?
Funny how I don't remember the costume but more so the experience of getting it. I rushed home from school, lunch box clutched in one hand and my big school bag whacking me repeatedly on the back as I didn't walk, but ran home because nothing could hold me back. No doubt, I was on a serious mission. I had bragged to all my friends that day that I too would be choosing a costume. I didn't care if any of them were impressed, it was the fact that I could actually say that fact and mean it. Once home I bounced around my mother until she snapped that until I ate my dinner we weren't going anywhere. Boy you never saw a kid eat so fast in your life. Hoover had nothing on me that day.
We finally made it to the local Toys-R-Us (I'm sad to say that very same Toys-R-Us has most recently been torn down and is being made into an Asian food market after all these years...really? What the heck is wrong with this picture? Where the fudgenuts do people take their kids for toy shopping anymore or is it now all online? So wrong I tell you, so very incredibly wrong!) walking into what could only be complete Halloween nirvana. Ghouls hung from the ceiling, scary witches propped in corners, all sorts of fun decorations lining the walls and the crowd was milling around all over the place. i was so spell bound that my mother nearly had to haul me through everyone to get to the aisle where the costumes were. Even back then glossy colorful pictures of costumes were tacked to a vast wall and you would chose according to some code. I really can't remember again what I wore, I believe it was some princessy sort of contraption and my brother went for the superhero look but the one thing that was clear, I couldn't seem to make up my darn mind. I kept pointing from one costume picture to another, practically bouncing in place while squealing "Ooooo that one! no no wait that one! OMG THAT ONE!!!!"
Ammu is nothing if not efficient and after enough of this nonsense she put her foot down, told me to pick something or we would leave empty handed and that was pretty much it. I made my decision, we ordered the costume (which seemed to take forever to come out to us because the pimply skinned kid working there seemed so over it and had no sense of urgency at all) and once my hands wrapped around the plastic bag, I wasn't going to let go.
Most of the details post purchasing the costume are fuzzy to me but a few things are still as clear as yesterday...1.) I slept with the costume next to me in bed, 2.) I would put it on every single day after coming home from school worried that may be I had grown out of it 3.) I was totally and utterly in love with that silly thing and had finally felt as if I was apart of the 'real' and 'normal' world. Oh gosh, childhood truly was so simple.
Anyhow, everything was going fairly smoothly for me. Not only did I have a cute costume, but I also could participate in the Halloween parade. In prior years I had been allowed to walk with the other kids even if I was in jeans and a shirt :| That year would be different and it was! i wore my outfit with pride, earning impressed looks from my friends and coo-ing comments from the teachers about how precious I looked. Darn it I really wish I remembered precisely what I wore. Oh well...
That night I ran home mentally prepared for my first trick or treating. Dinner was especially hard to choke down but I did it and finally it was time. I stood at the door with a bag in hand ready to go. my mother was on the sofa watching television completely ignoring me.
I finally said 'can we go now?'
She looked up and responded in a slightly confused voice, 'what? Where are we going?'
'Ammuuuuuuu, trick or treating!' (I mentally threw in a 'duh' but had I said it out loud I would have gotten a tanning)
'What? When did I say we would do that? Stop being crazy and sit down. You know you're not allowed to go trick or treating.' She turned back to the television without a second look.
I stood staring at her open-mouthed for more than several moments, completely unprepared for that response. I looked at my brother and honestly he didn't seem in the least bothered. he just gave me one of those horrid older brother shrugs and went back to watching whatever it was the rest of the family was. I wanted to throw an epic fit, wanted to scream and shout out how unfair the situation was, how that finally my dreams were in reaching distance yet completely and utterly unattainable. But I didn't. Instead, I sat my butt down and sulked, blinking back tears of sorrow. Shortly thereafter our doorbell bing-bonged and I ran to throw it open and greet about 10 kids in varying costumes. My mother gave me the basket full of chocolate and gently pushed me in their direction instructing me to give them one a piece (they were full sized chocolate bars).
This was an honor indeed for only my mother passed out the treats. As I doled out the Hershey and Snickers bars, I received compliments on my own outfit and was thanked roundly for the goodies. This went on all evening, me constantly at the door greeting kids and giving out candy until finally, exhausted I announced that we were out. The front porch light went off, the door closed and I finally sat down with a satisfied smile, having forgotten completely about the fact that I had been unable to actually go trick or treating myself.
Somehow, and I have to admire her for it, my mother managed to make Halloween a part of us without making us a part of it. Does that make sense? She had in her own way let me enjoy the holiday without compromising her own rules. She did so with a firmness that I (now) admire without alienating us from the society we were so clearly a part of.
I can tell you this much, as teenagers, she finally relented in letting us go out on Halloween night to beg for candy (I mean seriously that's what it is, isn't it?), to the local school fair or parties. It wasn't because she was suddenly embracing Halloween but because we were older and had her teachings instilled within us firmly. We knew what Halloween was all about and were responsible enough to comprehend that it was most certainly not apart of our religion. May be at that very young and tender age, my mom feared a sort of Americanized brainwashing but as we grew, she was more assured of the people we turned into.
Now as an adult I still very much embrace the spirit of Halloween. In years past I have taken the time to be outside on cool fall days to carefully stretch out cobwebs over the bushes edging my front walk, have thrust cracked tombstones oozing blood into the ground, even stuffed old clothes and propped a pitchfork next to it on a chair on my front porch. There have been lighted skeletons hanging from hooks swinging in the wind and a zombie clawing it's way out of the ground slightly enshrouded in mist. There has even been a screaming skull that pours blood down it's face as you approach to ring the door bell. It is about the scariest blood-curdling scream one can hear for miles around. And much to my delight people had come from all over the neighborhood to take a look at my handiwork. On the night itself I have enthusiastically donned a witches hat to hand out candy gleefully, ooh-ing and aah-ing over the little ghouls, super heroes, princesses and whatnot. Nothing beats hearing a round of 'Happy Halloween!' ringing through the dark clear night as the kids eagerly come to claim their treat.
It's been a few years though since I've made that sort of effort. First it was moving homes and I had misplaced the box of decorations, then after that it was work pressure that kept me from really going to town on a house that was just crying out for a couple of eerie looking ghosts, and after that...well Muslim holidays. My mother would be proud to know (if she ever was curious) that the real reason I never put up all my decorations has been because I respected my own religious holiday and therefore refrained. This year, a certain hurricane kept me indoors and my beloved possessions safe. See those lessons of childhoods were well learned and those fears she had, were baseless after all.
Anyhow, I must comment here that this year when I clicked onto facebook I spotted so many of my friends posting pictures of their lil ones in get-ups and costumes and I admit I felt so very...happy. Not only did I just simply enjoy seeing the kids all made up (and in some cases the mothers and fathers) but also, for many of these people who I knew came from fairly strict Muslim families themselves, I appreciated that they were embracing the occasion and indulging their kids. I commend all you moms and dads for understanding that when you put more meaning into something then there truly is, that's often when one loses the very spirit of the occasion, an opportunity to share something that's just pure fun with your child, let them be for a moment one of their favorite characters and have a plethora of candy that overwhelms them into squeals of delight.
I'm sure there are plenty of people who probably can and would argue with me about the evils of this particular holiday (whether you be Muslim, Christian, Hindu, Jew, etc...) but please, try to understand where I'm coming from. I remember so clearly the disappointment I suffered as that young child who sat inside her home unable to join the other kids roaming in big groups with parents clutching goofy looking plastic pumpkins. I ask you to remember that if you are going to live here, bring your children up to be Americans while exposing your kids to such holidays yet you forbid that they can not be apart of it, please, at least take the time to think how you would have felt if you also had to take a step in their shoes. In this way, your heart may melt a bit and you can glance into your child's smiling face and say to yourself "okay, so she/he has not joined a coven simply because he/she went to the neighbors place for a tootsie roll".
No halloween for child-me either .. not because I wouldn't have been allowed (I grew up in a village, everybody knew everyone and would look out for everyone's children) but simply because it wasn't there. Not a trace. Nothing. Zero.
ReplyDeleteMaybe that's why it leaves me lukewarm even now.
The holiday, not your story which is adorable.
loved this story for one minute i thought this is going to end up as a sad story but ur mom saved u from crying under blanket all night long very sweet story i enjoyed it
ReplyDelete