Halloween HatersPosted: October 31, 2011
I am a Halloween hater.
Not by choice. My parents made sure every October 31st served as a solemn reminder of America’s godlessness.
We are African. And Africans don’t celebrate Halloween. The idea is actually ludicrous. Witchcraft is alive and well all over the continent and the theory goes, you should never flatter witches with imitation. Any attempts to tell my parents that we wouldn’t dress up as evil spirits fell on deaf ears.
I remember my first Halloween.
My sister and I used to take swimming lessons at the Y. Halloween fell on a Friday that year and all the other kids got to leave swimming class early to get ready. My sister and I were literally the only ones in the pool. We got home and I had swimmer’s ear, per usual, and my eyes were red from the chlorine and we had to take our cornrows out. And there was no candy.
To this day, Halloween always conjures up memories of sitting in our townhouse watching Kids Say the Darnest Things while an occasional child would ring the doorbell only to be peremptorily denied.
One year, my parents bought my brother a Bible-Man costume. It was one of those awful ideas that you read on progressive blogs when they want to make fun of religious fundamentalists. He had a cape and a sword. It was stupid. But he had fun.
So I admit I have a lot of baggage going into the holiday. But even now as a grown lady, I cry foul on Halloween. Nothing good has ever come of this holiday. Nothing.
Aside from the obvious stupidity of having little kids in costumes run around at night and solicit candy from strangers, Halloween is the night when all the racists come out in drunken, unabashed fashion. Neat campaigns that speak to this truth are ridiculed.
And candy rots your teeth. No good, I tell you, no good.