My Problem With Sinterklaas

Sinterklaas arrived in Holland this weekend to begin the celebration leading up to winter holiday known as Sinterklaasavond (Sinterklaas evening) on December 5. As always, he was accompanied by his controversial companian Zwarte Piet (Black Pete). For the next several weeks Holland will be inundated with images of Zwarte Piet: pictures in the windows of shops, large puppets hanging from the ceilings of Holland's finest department stores, and even little children dressed in blackface.

Living in the Netherlands for over a decade has not made this spectacle any easier to witness. Before children, I could ignore it. But with this buffoonery being directed at children, I no longer have that luxury. A number of years ago I expressed concern about how to shield my children from the Zwarte Piet madness, and a wise sister-friend who had lived here many years and raised children here told me that I couldn't. Sinterklaas is the most widely celebrated holiday in the Netherlands and during the three weeks between his arrival and the actual holiday on December 5, children will encounter Zwarte Piet in stores, on the street and at school. They will also encounter, as I recently discovered, the lies told to justify keeping Zwarte Piet a major part of the Sinterklaas celebration.

While discussing the impending arrival of Sinterklaas this weekend Miss P, my 8 year old, announced, with a tinge of skepticism in her voice, that Zwarte Piet was black because he comes down the chimney. While I am not sure if Miss P's skepticism is a result of her becoming racially aware or just the age-appropriate questioning of the whole coming down the chimney thing, I took the opportunity to stop "whitewashing" the whole blackface issue and tell them the truth: Zwarte Piet is black and that when people dress up with black paint on their faces, they are making fun of black people. Your father and I find this very insulting and thus choose not to participate in the Sinterklaas celebration. Miss P agreed that it wasn't a very nice thing to do and denounced Zwarte Piet because "he makes fun of people with dark skin."

Despite the protestations of my child, my child, many others and myself regarding Zwarte Piet, most Dutch people that I have encountered refuse to see anything racist about him. In fact, they attempt to argue that Zwarte Piet not a black person but that he is black from of the soot from the chimney. This attempt to chimney sweep the issue under the rug is ridiculous because it fails to explain the thick read lips and curly hair.

The insistence that Zwarte Piet is not only patronizing, but it is also untrue. One need look no further than Dutch folklore to uncover the truth. The children's book "De Grote Reis Naar Nederland" (The Big Trip to the Netherlands by Piet Broos published in 1949 in which Sinterklaas seeks to recruit "three, pitch black niggers" to sail with him to the Netherlands, serves as further evidence that Zwarte Piet is in fact black.



excerpt from the book: (translated from Dutch)

The three, pitch-black little niggers, Piempampoentje, pumpernickel and Peep Ling, live in a country where Snorre Mustache, the nigger mayor and his Spanish master Gabbler Straw, teach the little niggers the ABCs. There is constable Knobbed Goose, the blacksmith, the butcher, the shoemaker and the notary. And of course many pitch-black little niggers, like the father and mother of Piempampoentje, Brommie and Grommie, and the fathers and mothers of his friends and pumpernickel Beep Ling.
One day the friends read an ad in the newspaper, where Sinterklaas asked for three large servants. They should go to St Nicholas Island.
They arrived in Flushing welcomed by the mayor and rode through the city. They slept in a hotel and the following days worked hard for Santa Claus. They got a big map showing where all the chimneys of the Netherlands stood. They visited schools, asylums, and collected hay and carrots for the horse.

Zwarte Piet is also portrayed as one of several black “bogeyman” type figures in the Dutch tradition, all used to promote proper conduct by instilling fear in children. Zwarte Piet carries a large sack which contains candy for nice children and willow branches to spank naughty ones. He is also said to sometimes put children who misbehave into his sack and take them back to Spain. Tenensnijder (toe-cutter) is a headless, legless, black triangular figure who carries a knife and cuts of toes of disobedient children. Pietje Roet (Little Sooty Peter) punishes children who play in the woods or the street and Zwarte Hannes (Black Hans) forbids going out alone and playing in the bed. Like Zwarte Piet, both Pietje Roet and Zwarte Hans are pitch-black and synonomous with the devil. They emerge from the fireplace and, like Zwarte Piet, take mischevious children away.

In theory I really like the idea of celebrating Sinterklaasaovnd, as it was traditionally the time to focus on the more commercial, gift-giving aspect of the season, thus allowing Christmas, which is celebrated a few weeks later, to be spent in church celebrating the birth of Jesus and with family.



But I can't get past the reality of people in blackface and afro wigs dancing merrily through the streets.

Sesame Street

There were several anniversaries this week, the Iran hostage crisis, the Berlin Wall falling, but the one that caught my attention was Sesame Street's 40th. I'd have to say that Sesame Street along with School House Rock were the educational shows that had the biggest impact on me. I came to this realization a few years ago, when to commemorate the show's 35th annivesary, a boxed set of cds was released featuring the shows greatest.

It was given to my children as a gift but I enjoyed much more than they did. Not only did I remember the songs from my youth, I could visualize most of the vignettes as well. Listening to that cd helped me realize that Sesame Street gave me so much more than the three r's. I got introduced to different music genres as musical guests as varied as Lena Horne, Billy Joel, Stevie Wonder and James Taylor visited the street to give life lessons through music.

My children were born here in the Netherlands and although there is a version of Sesame Street here, they never took to it. And I can't say I blame them. Big Bird is lavender! While they happily watch it when we go to the US to visit family and like many of their contemporaries, went through the Elmo craze, they never developed a love for the show. I'd sit and try to watch with them but after Elmo made his appearence, their attention was elsewhere.




I watched a clip of the Sesame Street opening from the 1970's the other day and called the girls over to watch with me. The 49 second clip barely held their attention and when it was done they wanted to quickly look up a Pet Shops movie. It made me a little sad that they were able to so easily dismiss something I am so sentimental about. That is until a few hours later when I heard them singing the theme song. I guess I can't expect them to have the same affection for the show that I did, with so many other shows and characters competing for their attention. I guess I'll have to be happy with them learning the lessons of the "street" through song. I guess the anniversary cd will be in heavy rotation in the upcoming weeks.

An A-Ha Moment

In March, Ellen DeGeneres won her campaign to share the cover of O magazine with the big O herself. Oprah appeared on The Ellen DeGeneres Show via Skype to personally extend the offer, saying "I thought it was such a fantastic idea. I was only sorry that I did not think of it myself." Oprah also mentioned that it had been 10 years since the ground breaking episode of the Ellen sitcom in which she came out of the closet and in which Oprah played Ellen's therapist. Watching the Ellen DeGeneres Show that day I had my very on "a-ha" moment: Oprah is preparing the world for her own coming out.

I guess I can't honestly call it an a-ha moment, but more a culmination of several moments, that brought me to this conclusion. Around the same time as this Ellen DeGeneres show, there was an Oprah episode where women left their husbands for women. While Oprah has had plenty of shows about people revealing their sexuality to family and friends, people discussing when someone knew they were gay, transgendered people and other issues surrounding sexual identity which have never caused anyone to question Oprah's sexual identity, there was something different about this show. The best way I can explain it is to say that it felt more like she was doing research than informing her audience.

I also think she "doth protest too much" her relationship with Gayle. Yes, you can be extremely close to your same sex friends without being gay, but when it's always Gayle that you see with Oprah, whether on vacations or red carpet events, and seldom Stedman, you start to wonder. What I know for (almost) sure: sooner rather than later, Oprah will confirm my suspicions.

Trick or Treat

Times are a changing. When I first arrived in the Netherlands over a decade ago, you'd be hard pressed to find any reference to Halloween. But as the years have passed, it's become more and more popular here. This year, the shops on our little neighborhood shopping street welcomed children to come trick or treating. With high expectations, Miss V and I (Miss P was otherwise occupied), joined by a classmate and her mom proceeded down the shopping street for a little trick or treating.

Miss V and her bud started off a little shy, but after a couple of stores, their announcement of "trick or treat" became more audible and animated. While the sentiment of the stores was wonderful, the execution left a lot to be desired. As mandarin after mandarin and a few limes were plunked into Miss V's treat bag and her face took on the "all-I-got-was-a-rock" expression of pissivity that Charlie Brown wore in "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown", I realized that Halloween hasn't really gone Dutch.

All in all, Miss V enjoyed herself. She did get a few pieces of candy along with her citrus fruit. She and her friend even got a couple of euros from one establishment and told to buy something from the bakery because he didn't have any candy (not sure if he ran out or didn't have any to begin with). Miss V bought a Pepto Bismol pink, gooey confection, which she and Miss P enjoyed after dinner. A very sweet Halloween treat.

Sidelined

It is official. I am a runner. An athelete. And like all great athletes, I am temporarily sidelined with an injury. I've tried to run through the pain, but it's been a couple of months now and I don't want it to get worse. So because of Plantar fasciitis, I am bowing out of a race I'd signed up for in a couple of weeks and will not run for the next 6-8 weeks. In the meantime, with the holidays upon us, I need find an equally efficient way to burn calories. Maybe it's time to join the Zumba craze. Or maybe I'll just dust off those Tae Bo DVD. You know, the classic one from around 1998. Or maybe I'll go completely retro and pull out the Jane Fonda VHS and step. Decisions, decisions. I'll let you know what I decide.

Adventures in Cooking

Julie & Julia & Me

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Returning to Iran

Things change so quickly. A few weeks ago Miss P had a birthday party, during which there was the opportunity for the kids to perform karaoke. All of the girls at the party suddenly became bashful and were too embarrassed to go to the front of the room and perform in front of their friends. All except two young ladies who seemed to revel in the spotlight. Mr. Man later noted that these two brave souls were both Iranian. Four weeks later both have been snatched from the spotlight. One, whose parent works for the Iranian embassy, is forced to attend a newly established Farsi school in the area, and the other, S, has returned to Iran.

S, like so many girls her age is a fan of High School Musical (her songs of choice for karaoke were from HSM), Hanna Montana and ice-skating. Both S and her sister took ice skating lessons with Miss P, while their mother, M, rediscovered speed skating. Ice-skating was a childhood passion of M’s, which she had to give up after the revolution in Iran, because there was no more ice.

As we watched the girls ice skating recently, M expressed her dismay because S. had recently articulated her desire to become a competitive skater and that this dream would now be impossible to realize. Although I know from having an 8 year old that their career ambitions change by the hour and S had probably changed her mind several times before the end of that week, I understood that what M was getting at went way beyond ice-skating. I understood that along with the ice-skating rinks, the revolution took away people’s choice and that M was taking her daughters back to a place where they would no longer be able to choose.

M tried to be strong for her daughters. Telling them the good things about their country. But as she talked, her voice is almost inaudible. You can see the water welling up in her eyes. As curious as I was about what their life will be like, I quickly changed the subject, letting her enjoy the few days of freedom she had left.

I feel for M. I wondered how do you go back to that? How do you take your children back to that? Your daughters? Knowing that a lot of the questions and concerns I had were based on misconceptions, I decided to sit down with M over coffee to get a better understanding of things.

The first thing I wanted to know was how she really felt about leaving. Her response was that although she was sad that her children were losing so many opportunities, going back to Iran would give them a more realistic view of life. They will learn that life has challenges and that “you can’t always be up, sometimes you must be down”. They will learn that everything isn’t always just given to you, like it had been for them in the west, but that you have to work for opportunities.

M still has dreams. She dreams of someday opening an ice rink in Iran. It would be open 6 days a week: 3 days for boys and 3 days for girls since there is no co-mingling of the sexes. But with little hope that things will change in her homeland during her lifetime, she dismisses this dream with a shrug of her shoulders saying, “an ice rink won’t change anything”. She also sees the hopelessness in Iranian youth and blames it for the rise in drug use among them.

I was also wanted to know M’s thoughts on wearing a hajib since her scarf wearing habits were very liberal. While she wore a scarf more often then not, some of her hair was always visible. And while she only removed the scarf in private settings, like someone’s home for coffee or a class parent gathering, there were usually men present to whom she was not related.

Despite my ignorance about most things Muslim, I do know that the hair is supposed to be completely covered and that the only men who can see a woman with her head uncovered are close relatives. M told me that she wore the scarf for the benefit of others. There were other Iranian families at the school who could make trouble for her husband in his job, if she didn’t tow the line so she wore the scarf in public.

She went on to say that she was comfortable with her relationship with God and didn’t feel that covering her head added to her piety. She further opined that Iranian Islam was “not real Islam. Islam never says you have to do something. It gives you a choice.” Upon her return to Iran she would have to don a hajib, and her daughters as well.

M isn’t completely without hope for Iran. Before she left she told me she hopes that someday the world will be able to see the Iran she remembers from her youth. She hopes that someday soon she will be able to see the Iran of her youth. I hope that for her as well.