My First English Santa Gig
In my eighth year of volunteering as Santa, I finally had an English gig
The Christmas season has passed, but it is still on my mind. What else would you expect from a self-professed Gorilla who aims to be Santa Claus?
It was a holiday season of firsts for me this year.
It was my first full onsite Santa schedule since Covid hit.
It was my first Christmas as a grandfather.
I had my first experience volunteering as Santa for English-speaking children.
What to expect
In this article, I want to share:
the joys I found being Santa despite the difficulty and limitations of the COVID years.
my path from anxiety to joy during my first opportunity to be Santa in my native language.
the gifts of joy from both the children and retirees I met with this past holiday season.
And, as always, some Takeaways to consider.
Santa, the Covid Years
First of all, if this is your first visit to this Substack, you may find the following post helpful for context, as it tells the story of how I chose to don The Suit.
After a few years of successfully building up a collection of local kindergartens, retirement homes, and other places to volunteer as Santa, everything went sideways when COVID-19 hit in early 2020. The thought of not being able to bring the joy of Santa to people during the holiday season was too much to take, so we decided to make the best of the unfortunate situation. So, in December 2020, 2021, and 2022, we requested the locations we usually visited to have the children send us questions for Santa. Then we made videos of myself answering all of their questions all suited up. (My wife was reading the questions as Mrs. Claus off to the side.) It was not the best solution, but the creative workaround allowed the kids to hear Santa reply to their questions, so I think we did OK during those years.
Santa Claus is Back in Town
Christmas came early in 2023 as COVID-19 was downgraded from a “global health emergency,” so we could walk around in public without masks again. As such, in mid-November, my wife started filling in the Santa schedule for December. A local friend of mine also threw his hat in the ring to help add a few other locations, so he would also be tagging along. However, before my local gigs could take place, I had a new gig at the American Military base where my son-in-law is stationed.
The Anxiety and Joy of Santa Unrestrained
While I have been volunteering as Santa for years, this would be my first time volunteering as Santa in English. This would be new to me, and suddenly, I was second-guessing my ability to do the job. While I was pretty confident I knew more about Santa Claus and Christmas than all the Japanese kids I usually meet as Santa, would I be up to the task with kids raised on Santa culture? What is this whole “Elf on the Shelf” thing about? I didn’t grow up with that. What are the latest toys in the USA?
In addition, this would be very different from my standard protocol, which involves arriving, entering the room, greeting the kids, handing out gifts prepared by the teachers, doing five to ten minutes of Q&A, taking a group photo, and then moving on. I am usually in and out in less than 30 minutes. Long enough to be ‘eventful’ but short enough to maintain the mystery. However, this gig on the military base would be a three-hour meet & greet—a totally different situation.
The day before the event, I found myself Googling for tips for “Mall Santas,” as I thought I would be stuck in a chair with a line of kids. Google was a bad idea. There were all kinds of scenarios I had not considered, such as kids peeing on Santa’s lap, warnings to keep Santa’s hands visible at all times to avoid harassment claims, and not letting kids con you into promising anything.
I am glad to say that all the anxiety I experienced after a single Google search was ‘much ado about nothing,’ as the event was wonderful. I was not stuck on a chair; there was no line, and there was no pressure. I was a ‘free range’ Santa at an outdoor event. I had a bench and backdrop for photos, but beyond that, I was free to move. It was a surprisingly warm day, perfect for the kids, their parents, and the vendors but a tad warm for someone in a full Santa suit. (The Grinch’s heart is infamous for growing three sizes one day, but I think I lost three pounds of water weight that day…)
Sweaty Santa aside, the kids were fantastic. I received a collection of small gifts, ranging from Hanukah art, crayon self-portraits, sealed letters, and origami. (The mother came back later for the sealed letter.) The interactions with the kids were overwhelmingly heartwarming. Even the older kids were into it. I had one girl, who I imagine was about ten years old, tell me, “I want an Ariel doll this tall.” She wanted an Ariel doll the same size as herself! Then, she followed up with the best question of the day, “Also, do you have bouncy houses?” To which I replied, “I will have to check on that. Is this a bouncy house for the Ariel doll or you?” For the record, she wanted a bouncy house for herself, not the doll. Are kids asking for bouncy houses these days?!?
I will not continue to bore you with the joy I felt that day, but I will add one final interaction. One girl, who I imagine was between ten and 12 years old, came back to me after sitting with me for a photo to thank me. Her words, as best I can recall, were, “Thank you for the love and kindness in your heart.” She followed this by giving me a big hug and then running to her parents.
Santa in Shimane
Being back in the suit and in the classrooms with the kids and the old folks was so rewarding. Yes, there were crying babies and kids who tried to tug my beard off, but I enjoyed those as much as the rest. I expect the babies to cry, so it does not phase me, and the shock on the kids’ faces when they realize my beard is natural is always worth a tug or two. Inevitably, such beard tugs are followed by the question, “Are you real?” (translated from Japanese), to which I always reply, “Of course I am! Are you real? Ho, ho, ho…”
My local Santa highlights this year were the “Puppy Attack” and “Mr. President” experiences.
The Puppy Attack
This was relatively simple, and it was not the first time it happened, but as it had been a few years, it was rather special1. At the end of my Question & Answer session with a large group of children, once we announced it was time for Santa to go, the kids mobbed me like a wild pack of puppies. I was completely surrounded, and while I loved every second of it, I playfully called out “Help!” in Japanese. After dolling out high fives (“high touch” in Japanese) to all the kids, I was able to escape and go on my way.
Mr. President!
While visiting a retirement home on Christmas Day, I walked around and delivered gifts to each of the seniors living there. They had all met up in a dining room around two large tables decorated with Christmas trees they had made from pinecones. There was Christmas music, and after the gifts were given out, I did another lap around so the staff could take photos of each of the residents with me. One woman looked at me with wide eyes and a joyful smile to say, “To finally meet you at this age…”
I expect joy from children when I visit them as Santa, but the joy I see in the eyes of older people is an entirely different flavor altogether. Santa is part of the world of children, and many of these retirees were raised without the Western introduction of Santa beyond a very SHALLOW level. So, while the kids are true believers, older adults may have never believed, but once they see me, I can see them question it. I can see them wanting to believe.
Just as Santa was leaving, one last resident entered the room. I turned around and walked over to greet her, and as I approached, she called out, “Mr. President!” I replied with a “Ho, ho, ho” and said, “Nice to meet you. I’m Santa.” However, she stuck with “Mr. President” a few more times and perhaps once “Mr. CEO” and maintained a firm grip on my hand. She was shaking it like shaking hands was going out of style, and I loved her for it. She may not have realized who I was supposed to be, but she was excited to meet me, and that was enough. I would have been just as happy if she had thought I was her long-lost nephew, high school sweetheart, just an old friend. Her joy at shaking hands with me was palpable, and I was overwhelmed to accept that as a gift from her on Christmas day.
The Takeaway
Like water, joy finds a way. When COVID came to town, Santa needed to find a workaround. I could have cursed my luck and given up, but I found a way to get around the barrier instead. The Tao advises us to “be like water.” If you approach a stone in your path and act like a stone, you will hammer away and solve nothing. However, if you approach that stone like water, you flow around it to find your new path. Be like water and find the way.
Anxiety and excitement are similar and sometimes a matter of perspective. While I was somewhat anxious about my first English Santa gig, upon arriving, I realized the anxiety was only mislabeled excitement. I was excited and nervous, so my mind convinced me I was anxious.
The joy of others is a beautiful thing. You do not need to be responsible for creating or understanding their joy to appreciate it. If you find your joy reserves low, seek them vicariously from others. Toss a toy to a puppy or cat, watch a YouTube video of kids opening gifts, or surprise a friend with a small gift.
Challenges
Are you currently banging your head against any barriers in your path? How can you be like water and flow around them to alleviate stress?
Is there anything you are dreading or that frightens you? How can you change your perspective to see it as a challenge or an exciting opportunity?
How can you become a vicarious joy farmer? (I found this possible by going on morning walks, as I was able to greet the elementary children as they walked to school. I even greeted some parents who had walked their children to the curb. These simple interactions were micro-kindnesses, and they add up.)
Cultural note: Japanese people rarely touch each other. Casual physical contact is not a thing here. My kids do not hug their Japanese grandmother, but they always hug me. So, as an American Expat in Japan, I joke that I am “a cat amongst cacti.” Like a cat, I need light physical contact with those close to me, but most are like cacti in that they do not welcome the light hand on the shoulder while talking, the hug greeting, etc. So, when the kids mobbed me, it was the first time in months I had experienced anything more than a handshake from someone besides my immediate family. It was as if the cat walked around the last cactus to find a field of catnip.