anonymity

th-2 Most of us remember when one of our classmates declared that Santa wasn’t real. Some of us ay recall the famous Dear Virginia editorial response published in the New York Sun in 1897. Even though, I’m old, and even though I’m currently living through the most turbulent, hateful times I find deplorable, I still believe in Santa.

Santa Claus is a spirit, who resides within most of us. When we were children, he miraculously answered our letters on Christmas morning. In most cases. I didn’t get a pony, but a got a Schwinn bike. I didn’t receive a drum set, but I got a guitar. Surprisingly, I was never disappointed. I was happy with all my gifts–except the underwear.

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As I aged, my experience led me to a greater understanding of Santa. A mythical figure, who lived in a dreadful climate, who urged children to be good, who fulfilled wishes, for what? A plate of cookies and a glass of milk? Doubtful. Santa Claus , St. Nicholas, Father Christmas, or whatever your moniker, came to teach.

His lesson embodied the Golden Rule–do unto to others. But Santa tweaked it a tad. Do unto others with anonymity. For me, there’s no greater joy than giving without acknowledgement, nor accolade. And yes, there are a myriad of ways to get a tax deduction without revealing or bragging. Trust me, I know.

Inside of each of us is Santa Claus. In times of disasters, strangers help others; sometimes risking their own safety to render assistance. With the holiday season fast-approaching, I urge you to accept the Santa Claus challenge. Do something for someone anonymously. You’ll be surprised by the joy you receive. I double-dog dare you.

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The one thing everybody owns–a name. Mike, Becky, Matt, or Ashley. Whether they own a business, a car, or a house is trivial, when someone doesn’t call them by name. Persona non grata.

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As a teacher, I learned that lesson early in my career. It became more dicey when I taught at the college level, for I had 50+ students each semester. At the first class, I made each student introduce his/herself and noted on the roster some identifying characteristic. By the second class, I was able to call each of them by name. I’d dazzled them, and most of them were stunned. Invariably, each semester one would ask, “Dr. Skidmore, how do you know my name?”

“You know mine, right? Then, I should know yours.”

While I live in a city of over four million people, I’m delighted the grocery store cashiers wear name tags. At the end of my transaction, I thank him/her by name. My favorite waiter is Patrick. The restaurant owner is Michele. Our waitress at Trivia Night is Brie, and her owner/boss is Sharon. Cal runs the best sub shop in my ‘hood. Bar_Bet

Though some folk embrace anonymity, I don’t. I believe human interaction is dying–thanks to social media. When I was in high school and wanted to break up with my boyfriend, I told him face-to-face. When I disagreed with one of my professors, I spouted my objection. I certainly didn’t hide behind “Rate Your Professor” under a phony name.

So indulge me. Refer to folk by their first name–the only thing they own. You’ll be pleasantly surprised to see their reactions.

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