The first time I did Secret Santa with a tight-knit group of friends, saying it was not a pleasant experience was just the scratch of the surface. Once everyone drew names and received their respective gifts, nothing but pure disappointment crowd the jolly air that was packed with laughter and smiles moments ago. I could see one of my friends deliberately forcing a grin that could reach as wide as she could to show her gratitude but everyone at the table knew at that time she was not happy with the light-weighted, black cylindrical tube in her hands — a RM 15 deodorant. Though the story would go down to be the funniest story I would use to tease my friends for ages, I thought the incident itself was enough to tell my friends that gift exchange is not a good idea, especially if you do not want to test the waters of your friendship.
To my dismay, my friends were determined to continue the tradition of exchanging gifts last Christmas despite the whole debacle that had happened. Perhaps I’m just a negative Nancy who has a habit of raining on other people’s parades but I have always thought the culture of swapping gifts during Christmas was such an awkward idea that has proven itself to bring no good. To avoid the same mistake from the previous year, the Secret Santa this time had a wishlist whereby everyone could write what they want and didn’t want so that it minimized the hassles of someone choosing a gift and of course, the chances of being let down for getting something you don’t like, or having your friend ended up not liking the gift you sent (trust me, it works the other way ‘round too).
When I saw the long list of no’s and don’t want’s, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. No stationeries, no snacks, no accessories, no lip balms… My excitement for the season was flushed down the drains as soon as my eyes scanned across the endless number of crosses and red flags they have raised. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore my friends. They have been my support system when I was at my weakest lows but I found myself asking, if we were to make our own demands on what we look for in a gift, then it’s not really a ‘Secret’ Santa anymore, isn’t it? When the surprise element that makes a gift exchanging unique to its own experience is not evident, then I truly do not see the point of playing the game. In fact, as I read the last checkbox of my friends’ needs, it started to feel more like a shopping list — I was buying ‘groceries’ for them instead of something that came from the heart because well, I was buying things you told me to.
So, I exited myself out of the game because living an ocean away from them, I really didn’t want to add burden to their shoulders for posting me a gift when I myself know the struggles and stress of it. I did tell them I was short of money, which was not really a lie. After all, I was still a university student who was working part-time and most of my allowances were intended for the external activities that I was going to organize or take part in. I was technically broke for the month. While I felt extremely guilty for being the killjoy of the group, I knew if I were to go along with the whole ordeal just like the last time, I would just drag more of the thrill my friends already had. I didn’t want to be that person.
Some people like gift-giving. To them, it’s an act of communicating our feelings to one another. It helps us build a stronger bond, reinforces the appreciation and acknowledgment we hold for one another. For the most part, I agree. I love gift-giving despite my deep hatred for the nonsensical Secret Santa phenomena. I love planning what I’m going to get for my friends’ birthdays. I enjoy thinking about their interests, the memories we had together, and coming up with something meaningful to our friendship. To me, gift-giving is somewhat like a sacred bond between my friends and I. Nothing is more satisfying than seeing the expression on my friends’ faces lit up, their eyes twinkling like the brightest stars in the sky when you hand them your presents. The tight hugs squeezing every ounce of flesh on my back body and the millions of thank yous flowing out from their mouths non-stop. If they’re happy, I’m ecstatic for them and if people find joy in sending people gifts or receiving them, heck why should I judge them but are gifts the only way to show your love for others?
Do gifts really make or break Christmas? This is the one question that I realized there was a gap between the community I grew up in as well as the circle that I’m currently surrounded by. I’m from a Chinese Christian background so Christmas is a festival that my family celebrates all the time. However, Christmas to us, I noticed, is very different from Christmas to a lot of my friends. A typical Christmas morning for my family would be attending morning church service, joining the annual Christmas procession that was sadly canceled last year due to the pandemic, and eating really good food to end the day. There was never a point in my life where my family and I practice gift-giving or hanging ornaments on a Christmas tree. In fact, I remembered how perplexed my friend was when I told him we don’t own a Christmas tree at home. People may think my Christmas routine is extremely boring, which I do agree at a certain extent. It’s not some fancy, extravagant celebration but it’s simple and it’s a day to enjoy the brief respite from the stress in life, a day where I get to spend time with my family — something I recently found very hard to do so ever since I moved out for college.
I know many people who agitated over the holidays about coming up with gift ideas, shopping for those gifts, and figuring out how to pay for them and this is where I want to say why Secret Santa is spoiling the season of what was supposedly known to be warmth, love, and joy. Not to mention, how the culture is simply a supporting point to the root of all evil, capitalism. Sure, Secret Santa started off as a cute, harmless idea of sending your loved ones a token of appreciation but I have also seen how the real meaning of gift-giving has been lost over the years. We shouldn’t feel obligated to purchase things just because it’s Christmas. Christmas shouldn’t be about indulging yourself with materialistic possessions and appropriating some beautiful and poetic faith traditions in the service of retail profits. Most importantly, it isn’t the only time where we whip out to demonstrate our affection by ways of gifts — a sad behavior we have been convinced to adapt by economic powers.
Should we cancel Secret Santa? No, that’s not what I’m saying but perhaps next time when we want to give something to someone, we should take a long hard time to ponder — are we giving for the sake of it or are we giving with meaning?
