Ho Ho No – One Story of Consent During The Holidays

By: Elizabeth Zeigler, Executive Director, I Have The Right To

4 minute read

Consent is a word that is most often associated with romantic relationships and yet the concept is vastly broad and purely fundamental: the right that every human is entitled to exercise when deciding what happens to their body.  Including – and perhaps especially – young humans. Consider this story about my young daughter, Christmas, and consent.

For many families, a trip to visit Santa is a celebrated, time-honored holiday tradition. One that is often planned with great attention to detail. Outfits, hair, shoes, and timing of the visit are organized with military precision. After all, that photo with Santa will live on holiday cards, in social media, and within family photo archives. This holiday tradition was a ritual for me, too.   

On one such day, fifteen years ago, my six-year-old daughter and I headed out to the mall for the Santa visit. While singing along to Christmas Carols blaring in the car, I anticipated the photo of Kathryn in her festive dress with her signature smile – closed-mouth and so wide that it stretched her cheeks and elevated her glasses – and how that happiness would be forever captured in my heart and shared with family. (A note: before she wore contacts, Kathryn always asked to have Christmas pictures taken without her glasses and I always said yes.)   

Almost three hours later, and after Santa took a reindeer break to fuel the flyers, we made it to the front of the line. The elf helper initiated the conversation about our desired photo package. My daughter squeezed my hand and looked up at me with what I thought would be giddy anticipation. It was another look altogether. Her eyes communicated discomfort and dread. When I asked her what was wrong, the following unfolded:

Kathryn: “I, I…”

Me: “You can tell me…”

Kathryn: “I…I don’t want to sit on Santa’s lap…I don’t want a picture.”

Me: “Okay, let’s go home.”

The relief that washed over her face was equally uplifting and frightening. Clearly she expected resistance from me in the form of dismissing her concern, cajoling her into compliance, or directing her to carry out our mission. Instead we said goodbye to the bewildered elf and departed the mall.         

Freeze frame this moment. If I had cajoled or directed Kathryn to take this photo, I would have prioritized my needs or wishes for a keepsake over her freedom to decide. I would have deprived my own daughter of her bodily autonomy. (The United Nations Population Fund says that “bodily autonomy means that my body is for me; my body is my own. It’s about power, and it’s about agency. It’s about choice and it’s about dignity.”) As adults, we must stop and think about whose needs should be met in a moment like this. At that moment, the needs that mattered were my daughter’s, not mine.  

Back home, Jeff, my husband, was curious that there was no photo, especially knowing the planning that occurred and that the wait was more than two hours. When he asked what happened, I simply said “if our daughter does not want to sit on a stranger’s lap, I am not going to make her.” 

We went on to discuss what a debilitating lesson it would be for Kathryn if she made physical contact with someone against her wishes. We also discussed how this time-honored tradition is a ritual, a series of actions performed by a prescribed order. And in my mind, without much thought to younger humans.

I understand why consent is primarily aligned with romantic relationships. In the United States, the laws of each state define the “age of consent,” which is the age at which a person’s consent to intimate contact is valid in law. The pandemic has taught us a lot about consent, that asking for and receiving permission – for a handshake, a hug, to gather mask-free – are expressions of due regard for the wishes of another. 

That due regard must be extended to our young humans, by strangers and family alike. 

During this holiday season, whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or none of the above, before you tell your child to kiss Aunt Doria or hug Uncle Charlie, ask yourself if that is what your child wants.  Better yet, before the relatives arrive, ask your child how they prefer to greet them and express affection. If Aunt Doria or Uncle Charlie are affection-seekers who are disappointed by a high five or fist bump instead of a kiss, they should reflect on why their wishes for affection are more important than a child’s wishes for discretion.     

If you are wondering how you might raise the topics of consent and bodily autonomy with your child, I offer three suggestions: (1.) this short animated video to start conversation  consent for kids , (2.) this piece about modeling consent and (3.) I Have The Right To’s Consent Conversation Cards to engage adolescents in conversation I Have The Right To Consent Conversation Cards – I Have The Right To.  As the video shows, it is never too early to start the conversation.

A postscript to this blog piece:

Me: “Can I tag you on LinkedIn when I post this tomorrow?”

Kathryn: “Will you be offended if I say no?”

Me: “Not at all.  That’s why I’m asking.”

Kathryn: “Okay, yeah, maybe don’t. Thanks.”

This blog post was Kathryn-approved, both content and photos.  Just not the tagging on social media.