I like decorating for the holidays. Though I’m neither that orderly nor consistent with the practice, it’s a small ritual that marks beginnings and endings. When I pull out favorite pieces once a year, I enjoy reminiscing about their origins and I like the creative challenge of considering what to add.

My mother, fueled by Relief Society Super Saturdays and Homemaking activities, has an entire closet of holiday décor, each organized into respective boxes and switched out accordingly. There’s plenty of stereotypical hearts, clovers, turkeys, snowmen, and other standard symbols of the holidays. Some of the pieces are pure Mormon kitsch, some hail from our elementary school days, and some have been picked up from home décor stores over the years.

In continuance of this tradition, I have some odd little bins in the basement, haphazardly labeled and sometimes left to rot if I miss a holiday window. Whenever I do pull up a bin and set out its contents, my faith deconstruction and reconstruction experiences have me asking questions. The status quo isn’t satisfying anymore and I find myself yearning for more meaning, more substance.

So I ask myself, why am I even celebrating St. Patrick’s Day? Why celebrate romantic love when there are so many kinds of love to celebrate? Would observances of solstices and pagan holidays feel more authentic? How do I de-commercialize Christmas? How do I (should I even) reconcile Thanksgiving with the history of colonialism? What are sustainable practices in holiday observances? And perhaps, more than any other holiday observance, how do I reconcile the fractured history, unrealized dreams, and current state of my country with the 4^th of July?

In the face of police violence, corruption, gun violence, transphobia, and the aftermath of a stricken Roe v. Wade, it feels disingenuous to simply put up bunting and say yay, America.

At the risk of asking far too much of home décor, but in keeping with continuing rituals in which I find value, I want to practice intentionality when decorating for the summer, incorporating Juneteenth and the 4^th of July as a sort of season of observance.

If this is a time of year for honoring the ideal of freedom, can my décor reflect the stories of the Tulsa Massacre, the Stonewall Riots, the long walks to school integration, the Water Protectors, the Radium Girls, and all those who sacrifice in pursuit of the promise of a more perfect union? Can décor tell a messy story that is more challenging, less simple, and not so easy to decorate for? It’s certainly not just a flag and some bunting.  

It might be pictures and books and symbols that are different from the standard but provide more substance. Because I am a mom of three mixed race children and an educator, I’d rather look at reminders on my shelves and walls that spark questions and conversations.

Home décor is, on many levels, a very silly thing. It’s mostly about making our surroundings pretty or comfortable, which might feel at odds with the idea of adding discomfort or complexity. It’s certainly just as easy to change out décor without changing ones heart as it is to like a social media post or offer thoughts and prayers, but home decor also presents an opportunity to educate, enrich, empower, and recognize the full spectrum of a country finding its way forward unevenly that seems worthwhile. If I’m going to invest time and money to decorate for holidays and continue the tradition, this seems a way forward.

Featured Photo by Camylla Battani on Unsplash