Revisiting my thoughts on the red cups

Reflecting on the article that started this off, five years later.

Photo by David Hurley on Unsplash

This week, on December 18 to be exact, I marked five years since a piece I wrote on the WordPress that predated this Substack went viral and was subsequently published, in a shortened form, in the Toronto Star as part of their “Big Debate” section, as a response to the prompt: Is it okay to say Merry Christmas? It can be found here. 

Two years ago, when I started regularly writing this newsletter, I had it in my head that when I reached the five year mark on that article, I would go back and revisit what was published in the Toronto Star and take some time to talk both about the fallout, and what has changed in how I view the issue. If you have been here since the beginning, you may remember that article, either in its original form or in the newspaper. If you are newer, as I suspect is the case for many of you, I hope that you will indulge me as I do some very public self-reflection before returning to our regularly scheduled programming. 

I wrote the piece that appeared in the Toronto Star in the wake of the Tree of Life Synagogue Shooting, the five year anniversary of which we marked on October 27. I was on a train back to London from Bath when I received a phone call from my mother informing me that the deadliest attack on American Jewry to date had taken place in Pittsburgh. When I got back to my apartment, I sat down and wrote the first draft of that article. It was posted online a day later and subsequently blew up. It remains one of only two pieces I have written to do so, the other being my one-year reflection on the events concerning the Delta Chi fraternity at the University of Windsor.

I wrote about Starbucks cups.

Specifically, I wrote about the year that Starbucks opted to use a plain red cup for the holidays rather than one explicitly Christmas-themed. I talked about how in multicultural societies, like Canada and the United States, it’s important to acknowledge that we don’t all celebrate Christmas and that there are other holidays happening this time of year. I talked about how it felt to repeatedly explain that I don’t celebrate Christmas and what it was like to live in a country that prides itself on multiculturalism and inclusivity, but where businesses continually fail in this regard. I explained: 

“If you are thinking that I should just “assume best intent” then I would advise you stop. Just stop. I have assumed best intent my entire life.

But if I’m being honest, I don’t really assume best intent; I assume ignorance. And if you’re being honest with yourself, and if you live in an extremely diverse and multicultural country, like all of us in Canada do, then to assume that every person who walks in the door celebrates Christmas, or that it is OK to make that assumption, is genuinely ignorant.” 

And, like what happened to Starbucks in the year of the red cup, I was immediately accused of fueling the “war on Christmas”. Articles about me appeared in far-right online publications; my words were discussed on the radio; I was harassed on Twitter; contacted by Soldiers of Odin, a Canadian neo-Nazi group; and one corner of Reddit called for my deportation, to where, I’ve never been clear. 

Almost every year the article has resurfaced around the holidays. I have been asked about it by friends I have met in the intervening years, and in job interviews. 

When I made the plan to answer some of those questions at the five year mark, I could not have predicted that this was where we would be. I could never have imagined that the atrocity of the Tree of Life Shooting would pale in comparison to the slaughter of more Jews in any single day since the end of the Holocaust. I could not have predicted that five years after the Tree of Life Shooting I would be questioning, more than I ever have before, not only if Jews are wanted and accepted in the Diaspora, but if we are even safe living here. 

In September, when I first started making the notes that I intended to go towards this reflection, I thought I had a clear sense of the ways my feelings have changed and the ways they haven’t. I am no longer as resolved. 

I am no longer so resolved because two weeks ago, I went to Starbucks in an act of counter-protest. Starbucks recently commenced a lawsuit against the union representing its workers, Starbucks Workers United, after they tweeted “Solidarity with Palestine!” shortly after October 7, and before Israel had begun its counter-offensive. It is worth noting that the former CEO of Starbucks, who has been involved in the response to the union activity, is Jewish. It is also worth noting that while Starbucks coffee beans are available in Israel, the company opened six locations in Tel Aviv in 2001, which promptly closed in 2003, so there has not been a Starbucks café in Israel for 20 years. The lawsuit against the union has spurred anti-Israel activists to protest outside of Starbucks locations, including the one on the main downtown street where I live. They stood outside on a windy Monday morning accusing the café of supporting genocide, and accusing anyone in the surrounding area who did not accept one of their leaflets of the same. I felt for the workers who I knew were inside the restaurant and should not have been subjected to those protests as part of their work day. And so, I made a detour to go to that Starbucks on my way home, walking out with a definitively Christmas-themed cup. 

I stand by what I said in 2018, the year of the red cups was a really good one for those of us who don’t celebrate Christmas. It remains the only year that a large coffee chain in North America made a specific, targeted effort during the winter to be religiously inclusive. And it was a pretty small step. Red is very associated with Christmas, meaning that the cups were arguably still “Christmas-themed”, they just lacked the more overt imagery. 

I want to clarify that my issue was not, and has never been, with individual people who wish me “Merry Christmas.” I am not offended when strangers or people in my office who do not know me well ask what my Christmas plans are. I will typically answer by informing that I don’t celebrate Christmas, because I believe that it is an entirely appropriate answer, and part of taking up space as a Jew. The only time this bothers me in interpersonal relationships, is when an individual is already aware that I celebrate a different holiday this time of year. As I did five years ago, I assume that people are simply unaware, underexposed, or ignorant. I do not take it as a personal attack or as anything malicious. 

My point was always about the failure of our institutions: governmental, academic, and corporate, to set an example of religious inclusivity by their choice of language and decorations. I want to be clear: I don’t care that much. This is not some ongoing campaign I am engaged in or something I even give very much thought to, both in December and certainly throughout the rest of the year. I wish I had the luxury to care more about this issue, but what is on my coffee cup doesn’t even register on the scale of how the Western world is failing the Jews right now. 

Five years ago, I wanted to make a point about how the failure to be inclusive of different religious groups helps to confirm that we are forever an other, and that by reinforcing us as other, our institutions are failing to tackle systemic prejudice that leads to violence. That has changed, and not for the better. 

I am no longer concerned about whether there is a reindeer on my Tim Horton’s coffee cup, because I live in a country that has woken up every day for last 78 days, and decided that it was okay for people to be out on the street chanting for Intifada, the murder of Jews, and justifying or denying the rape and murder of Jews. I am no longer concerned about whether they wish me a “Merry Christmas” at Wal-Mart when our universities are teaching thought models that classify Jews as oppressors, despite continuing to treat Antisemitism as a lesser form of racism. 

Five years ago, I paraphrased Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, who taught that the hatred that starts with the Jews never ends with the Jews. This is still very true, and the current failure to make this observation, even when Hamas has been explicit in how their plans do not begin and end with the Jewish state, is disheartening at best. 

This is not where I wanted to be or how I wanted to feel five years later, but here we are.