The Santa Conspiracy

I'm here to tell niggas/ it ain't all swell nigga./ There's heaven/ then there's hell nigga. (Jay-Z)

Tis the season to be jolly, but there are a lot of pissed off people out there and it all starts with the whole Santa Claus thing. Some kids will be laying anxiously in bed hoping to nod off so that Santa can come. Others will have their worlds rocked when they accidentally discover that there is no Santa and that their parents are goddamn liars. I was slow as hell to figure that one out, but through no fault of my own: My parents went to college to study bullshittery and with two Masters and a Doctorate between the two of them, I couldn't compete.

My family was so elaborate with their lies, that it just had to be true. I used to mail Santa Claus letters all the time, but after finding her whole book of stamps missing, my grandmother told me that it wasn't necessary to use stamps because the letters traveled through elf magic. She told me that Santa Claus had the newer elves working down at the main post office and that they "just know" which letters are for Santa and that they have a plane that they fly from the post office back to the North Pole each night.
Bullshit number one.

Christmas was a holiday for my mother in more ways than one. It was the one time of the year that she could leave the house without me begging to tag along by saying just one thing: I'm going to see Santa Claus. Now it didn't matter how many times she said that, I always fell for it.
Me: I thought you saw him last weekend?
Her: He sent me a fax at work telling me to come back through this weekend because he had some questions about your list. Last weekend I went because he lost your list and needed another copy. I'd take you, but he can't reveal himself to children or else you'll be banned from ever getting toys again.
Me: Oh, well tell him I said hi!


I remember having a Christmas breakfast at school back in the first grade. The school went all out and even hired a guy to play Santa. Near the end, I guess the food choked him up or something because I remember him coughing a lot and Mrs Claus handing him a can of Coca-Cola. Why did this negro pull the beard off in front of all the kids to drink the soda, and then looked up embarrassed when Mrs Claus yelled, Charles, the kids!

I went home and told my grandmother what happened and instead of coming clean, she tells me that there is no such thing as a Black Santa Claus. The guy I saw was actually just a man that works for Santa Claus part time. The way she explained it, Santa can't be at every mall, so he hires people to represent him while he's back overseeing the toy making process.

Looking back, I appreciate them keeping the ruse going for so long. Growing up in DC in the 1980's made all of us poor Black kids grow up fast. Suburban kids had the luxury of remaining ignorant to the harsh realities of the world, we didn't. As early as kindergarten, our teachers were calling us all over on the playground to the spot where someone found bullet casings, syringes, crack vials, etc and teaching us what they were and what to (not) do if we found one. Going through extra effort to keep Santa Claus and the magic of Christmas real was a special gift that allowed me to just be a kid for a few extra years. For that, I thank them.