Hey babes. The holiday season is in full swing over here, and that means there's a lot of talk about ol' Kris Kringle. Just like that pasty obese hermit, I got a ton of letters this last week from people asking for stuff. I may not have a magical sleigh, but I do have the internet to help me deliver untold wonders in the form of advice.
Lots of letters have been coming in about Santa. "What if my son asks for an automatic rifle?" and "Can I get back on the nice list temporarily?" These are all great questions, but one that really caught my eye is from J.N. near the great lakes. J.N. writes, "Cassie, [you are truly an inspiration to me and everyone I know. In this dark and ever-darkening world, you are the one spot of light I know I can count on.] I wonder what you think I should do about this predicament. I work with kids, and some of them ask me about Santa. I don't want to permanently traumatize them by telling them he's just a vicious lie, but I also want credit for the presents that I give them. What should I do?"
You're right to come to me, J.N. I have a ton of experience breaking bad news to people in a way that makes me feel better and dashes all of their hopes and dreams.
For starters, I think you should tell them. Sure, that sort of thing might be best coming from their parents, or letting them just sort of figure it out as they slowly grow ever more skeptical of the world around them, but I have never been one to stay quiet when I know someone else has an incorrect thought or something that I don't fully agree with.
The question of how to demolish all sense of belief they have is the really tough one. Remember, though, that this is not your fault. It's their parents' fault for filling their kids' heads with unbelievable nonsense like talking snowmen, tooth fairies, Easter bunnies, and affordable student loans. You want to watch a fragile vase smash into a thousand pieces, you put it up high on a flimsy stand, right? So don't blame yourself—if they ever crawl back out of the emotional despair after you set off a truth bomb, they'll thank you for it.
I'd say there are two ways to do it. You can either ask them some subtle questions that will get them to logically put it together that Santa is as fake as my eyelashes, or you can just rip off the bandage. Personally, I'm a fan of the latter. The trick is to leave absolutely zero hope, though. You can't just partially smother their fantasies about a just world where good people get rewarded and bad people get their just deserts. You need to absolutely and brutally slaughter it.
Tell them straight up that Santa is a made up story and that their parents and everyone they know has been lying to them their entire lives. They'll doubt you at first, so just to make it even more potent, I like to also throw in some stuff about how gullible they've been to believe it, and how naive children in general are. That's really healthy for them, because then they'll start to question everything they've ever been taught: including that their parents love them no matter what, that their pet hamster went to hamster camp when it really died, and that vegetables are good for them. A nice dose of reality never hurt anyone, with a long list of exceptions.
Just one last note, though. If you aren't sure you're up for the task with the kids you work with, I find that it's often helpful to try those speeches out on kids you find other places. You could try a really quick speech with a kid in line at the grocery store, or maybe at the library. See how that goes, and adjust it for game time.
Well, there are so many ways to destroy a kid's childhood. Choosing the right one is a really tough decision. Good luck out there, babes. Let me know how things go!