Not going to sugar coat it—I am not in the mood for any hard feelings around my holiday table this year. In a nod to the no-politics wedding trend, I’m instituting a stealth campaign of faux civility to my holiday experience. I’m not going to nail up a list of censored words and phrases, although after endless polarized podcasts, perplexing public policy mandates and other agita, I’d like to go Martin Luther on my family’s a**. Instead, I want to keep the holidays as they are meant to be, gatherings where family members gossip about relatives’ disease diagnoses, romantic misadventures and anodyne celeb news involving try-hards like Glen Powell and Hot Frosty.
To be clear—I’m not saying I won’t get into all the issues and do a deep dive on economics, politics and electric cars with toxic people later on. I’ve spent much of my life marching, fostering conflict and plain-old yelling (then as I mellowed/aged a bit, conversing) about politics. However I’ve never felt the chill I feel these days, so…I just want to make my little tablecloth the DMZ for the day, a no-fly zone for the dismissive rhetoric that I find myself and others engaging in so readily.
This isn’t both sides-ism, I promise—it’s not wanting the stuffing to get cold. My late husband once said to me, in the middle of some fight, “Do you want to be right, or do you want to be happy?” “Both!” I answered resolutely, and we both laughed. Well, this holiday I’m going to do my best to be a peacemaker at my holiday table, or at least a cunning conversational guide.
Here's my script on how to swerve the conversation when the following topics come up. Feel free to crib them, or reject them and me as a coward. Just know…I’m thinking this is a one-day pause, not me waving a white flag. Again, if I’m making a whole damn turkey, I want to enjoy it. And I think the turkey deserves it too.
