Words by Mia McKenzie
Drawings by Ritapa Neogi
When I was a little kid, I was always the first one up on Christmas morning. I’d lie in bed for a few minutes trying to telepathically communicate to my sleeping family members that it was time to wake up, but it never worked, so I’d creep up to my sisters’ beds, stare at them really hard, then, when that didn’t work either, I’d shake them.
Good Christmases have far outnumbered bad ones for me, so my feelings about the holiday are overwhelmingly positive. As an adult, I still get excited at Christmastime, especially now because I have a wife who also loves Christmas. This year, we got our tree the weekend after Thanksgiving. That’s how eager we were! It died like three days later because we possibly suck at choosing trees BUT THAT’S SO BESIDE THE POINT OMG WHY ARE YOU EVEN BRINGING THAT UP, BRUH?
The thing about having a Christmas-loving wife—or I guess any wife—is that she also has a family. Which means I have in-laws. In-laws are a phenomenon I haven’t quite figured out how to navigate yet. They’re these people you don’t really know that well who are suddenly related to you and who you now spend time with during the holidays. It’s weird.
Don’t get me wrong. My in-laws are generous, funny, warm, loyal, loving people. I like them a lot. I’m not just saying that because they might be reading this. There is much to like about them. But many of my in-laws are white. Puerto Ricans but…still. White Puerto Ricans. I have Black in-laws, too, but I don’t see them as much. My wife is currently one of only two brown Latinx in her immediate family.
What does this all mean? IT MEANS THERE ARE A LOT OF WHITE PEOPLE AT CHRISTMAS, Y’ALL. And I’m not gonna lie, I don’t entirely know how to handle it because—and I think we can all agree on this—white people have questionable ass views.
