Christmas, in Portugal, goes far beyond the confessional and religious dimension. It is inscribed in literature, music, the civil calendar, social history, family rituals, and the collective imagination. From popular tales to poems, from traditional songs to the solidarity practices associated with the season, Christmas is an integral part of Portuguese culture.
I was therefore astonished when I learned that, in a basic school in the district of Santarém, parents of the children were informed that this year the usual Christmas party would not take place, essentially consisting of a show in which the children performed. The reason given was this: not to offend the religious feelings of children, daughters of non-Christian immigrants.
An article written by journalist Rodrigo Guedes de Carvalho (1) made me realize that this would not be a one-off situation, but that similar arguments are leading to the “cancellation” of Christmas in some places.
The political party that champions supposedly Christian discriminatory arguments can only be grateful for this supposedly egalitarian zeal: I can imagine the number of parents who, thanks to attitudes like these, are beginning to find Chega’s speech reasonable… What a great propaganda service they are providing with this “ban” on Christmas!
And traditions evolve: the completely “Christian and Portuguese” Christmas itself was modified by “foreign” influence. When I was a kid, we would put our shoes in the chimney so Santa Claus would leave the gifts; now, due to Anglo-Saxon influence, socks are added. My parents and grandparents gave central importance to the nativity scene and the Baby Jesus; today it is no longer like that, and Christmas is dominated by the decorated Christmas tree, the fashion for which arrived in Portugal at Christmas 1844, thanks to an immigrant, D. Fernando II, the German who married our queen D. Maria II.
The celebration of Christmas in Portuguese primary schools cannot constitute a form of exclusion; it should rather be an opportunity for qualified inclusion.
Celebrating Christmas can – and should – be accompanied by an explanation of its historical and cultural significance, clearly distinguishing faith, tradition and heritage. At the same time, the school can open space for learning about other festivities: Hanukkah, Ramadan, Diwali, Chinese New Year, among many others. Thus, the children’s symbolic universe expands, instead of contracting.
Excluding Christmas so as not to “offend” religious minorities is based on a wrong assumption: that the presence of a tradition is, by nature, a threat to others. In reality, the erasure of dominant cultural references tends to generate resentment and misunderstanding, not integration. Children – and also adults, whether born here or those who came here to live – learn better to respect difference when they have clear cultural roots and when these roots are placed in dialogue with others, within a framework of equality and reciprocal curiosity.
A school that removes Christmas in the name of inclusion teaches that coexistence is only possible by eliminating visible differences. On the contrary, a school that celebrates Christmas and, at the same time, welcomes and makes other traditions known teaches something much deeper: that diversity is not generated by erasure, but by addition.
Inclusion is adding, not subtracting.
Journalist