antb celebrates the holiday season in a special way that is tailored to her family. "When we adopted a sibling group of mixed race kids, we decided to make Kwanzaa the focal point of our winter."  According to Wikipedia, Kwanzaa is "a week-long Pan-African festival celebrated primarily in the United States, honoring African American heritage. It is observed from December 26 to January 1 each year."

We were struck by the creative, handmade quality of antb's family celebration: they've taken traditions and reinvented their meanings in a very personal way. "While we follow the seven themed days of celebrating, we also have added to and changed the holiday to fit our family. On New Year's eve, we have a family dinner and exchange handmade gifts. We have a libation ceremony, remembering the struggles of the races. We remember our ancestors, distant and recent, and talk about where we have come from as a family... It is the way a holiday should be. I love it." What follows here is a peek into the family life of an Etsian, expressing the unique qualities of her family and the universal holiday spirit on Etsy in general.

I think back to when our family grew in one day from a family of four, to a family of nine. It’s been almost fourteen years, but I still remember the sheer busy-ness of life that occured when we adopted a sibling group of five kids from Chicago. I wondered how to teach our new children about their heritage. I couldn’t see them finding a lot of pride in their adoptive parents with Viking forefathers.  

My sister asked me if we were going to celebrate Kwanzaa, now that our family was mostly African American. I think she was joking, but the idea appealed to me on many levels: It would be a dedicated time of year to talk about African American role models and was based on African traditions and rituals. It was all about what we as individuals could do when we worked together – an idea I was anxious to instill in my children as part of a newly blended family. It was also about handmade – using what you have, honoring craftsmanship, and taking pride in what we can do ourselves. 

Yes, this was a holiday I could embrace! I couldn’t ignore the signs of a commercial Christmas all around, but I could make Kwanzaa into the handmade, family centered holiday I had always wanted for my family. 

As we set the table for Kwanzaa, my youngest daughter Grace sets out baskets and sings"The 12 Days of Christmas," repeating the phrase, “Two Turtle Doves” about a half bajillion times.

“Oh right. Harambee!”

Renee and Jasmine finally find the kinara, the special candle holder, and begin arranging it on top of the mkeka mat. Jens and Tasha bring platters full of fresh fruit, crackers, corn and peanuts in from the kitchen.

“Who remembers the seven principles of Kwanzaa?” I ask. Everyone crowds closer around the table, picking the piece of fruit which will represent them in the basket. Nearly everything on the table is handmade, including the pine needle baskets, made by my sister who learned the craft from the granddaughter of a slave who learned it from her grandmother. 

“Umoja!” Grace yells. “That’s my candle.” She carefully lights the central black candle.

“And that means Unity,” I remind her.

“Kujichaguilia,” Jasmine says, careful not to say “Goochee-Goo-Ya” as she did as a child. “It means Self Determination.”

“Ujima: Collective Work and Responsibility,” Renee says.

“So you’ll be doing all the chores?” I deadpan. Nobody responds.

“Ujamaa, which is Cooperative Economics,” Jens says, stealing a cracker from the bowl.

“Does Etsy count?” Tashaasks.

“Sure does!”

Snow hurries us on to her candle. “Nia. Purpose.” She has dropped by on her way to work and wears her uniform instead of a traditional dashiki.

It’s my turn now. “Kuumba, Creativity. By the way, how are everyone’s gifts coming along? Do we need a craft store run?”

The kids look guilty. While everyone no doubt has a plan for the handmade gifts we give each other on January 1st, I have a feeling they’re in the Kuumba stage and don’t have much Nia. 

“Imani,” my husband Danny says. “Or Faith. And then we name our ancestors.”

“Kutoa Majina. For honoring those who have gone before us, maybe they’ve died, maybe they no longer live with us, but they’re a part of us anyway.” The kikombe cha umoja, or cup of togetherness, is filled with sparkling apple juice and set front and center during the seven days of Kwanzaa. But tonight, we pass the cup and everyone names someone who has influenced their lives. We drink a toast to them.

“And then Jens' drums!” Grace says.

“And what part does bingo have to do with all this?” Jasmine asks, cynically.

I smile. “The first year you lived with us, Aunt LeeAnn came from Montana to visit during Kwanzaa. She brought a bingo set as a family gift, and little gifts for you all. We played bingo with the gifts as prizes, so you could each pick what you wanted. We just kept bingo in from then on.”

“Actually, aren't there lots of games of chance played during holidays and festivals all over the world? So, I’m pretty sure there is an African tradition somewhere that would translate into something like bingo,” interjects Tasha.

“Leave it to a Pagan to rationalize bingo during an African holiday,” Jens laughs.

Jasmine won’t be put off, however. “Mom, come on. White parents, black kids. Hel-loo! How does Kwanzaa compute in a family like this?  Most families don’t celebrate this, why do WE?”  Grace looks up expectantly – she senses a story coming.

“Jasmine, we celebrate Kwanzaa because I am the mom, and I said so.” “Yes, Mom,” she answered in mock obedience, rolling her eyes. “Can we play bingo now?”

“Help me with the food, and then I get to call the numbers first!” We set up a buffet of southern food and spicy African dishes. As the kids pick their bingo cards, and find pillows to sit on, I look around at my family, and find myself completely content in life. This is how a family holiday is supposed to be. 

“Bingo!”


Further Resources:

http://www.officialkwanzaawebsite.org/index.shtml

http://www.swagga.com/kwanzaa.htm