Songs of Hope and Connection

By Pamela Mueggenberg, LIMHP

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"And he did hear a sound rising over the snow.
It started in low, then it started to grow.
But this sound wasn't sad!
Why, this sound sounded glad!
 
Every Who down in Whoville, the tall and the small,
Was singing without any presents at all!
 
He hadn't stopped Christmas from coming! It came!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!”
 
– Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas

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I’ve been thinking a lot about How the Grinch Stole Christmas, in particular the song right before the Grinch’s heart grew, in the original cartoon and not the well-intended but ultimately disturbing Jim Carrey effort from the 2000s. When the town has been swept clean of the trappings of Christmas and the Grinch is delighted, anticipating the town’s grief and pain when they realize their sacred tradition has been stolen from them. He is fundamentally apart from the town, his body and mind withered in his isolation. He literally lives above them, doesn’t understand them, and can’t stop thinking about them.
 
We know so much about the Grinch in this story. He is the “Centered Other”, the bringer of ill-will to the faceless innocents below. As an allegorical device it makes sense that the town would respond with unanimous grace, gifting the Grinch with their joy from below. The townspeople are not people, they are foils for the Grinch’s evolution and respond as such. They have no inner world, smiling and unbothered as the Grinch sits down next to them and carves their roast beast.
 
Don’t even get me started on Cindy-Lou.
 
In our efforts to understand the systems of power that hurt us, we can be tempted to center our attention on the face of the system: the Evil Doer, the Grinch, the Antagonist. “What was wrong with him?” “How could he do that?” “Why isn’t he dead yet?” Make no mistake, there are fruitful conversations to have about holding people and systems accountable, and we need to have them. Accountability and restorative justice is vital to community healing.
 
My question today is, how did the Whos manage to sing?
 
A mother woke up that morning, her home ransacked, an ice-cold realization trickling down her back that someone had broken in and been near enough to touch her children while they slept. A little boy looking for the gifts he had made for his sister and trying not to cry when he realizes it’s gone. The elder man ripped from his sleep as bitter cold wind rips under his bedsheets, his Christmas lights a naked wire dangling from the broken door frame.
 
How did they manage to sing after all that?
 
They sang, I believe, because that’s what they had been doing all along. This was a town that was in the habit of connecting with each other. Song, and joy, and celebration were woven into their everyday lives. They knew each other deeply and could rely on the trust they had built to hold them together even during this incredibly awful day. They sang because they needed to remind each other: I am here for you, and you are here for me. They sang, not for the Grinch, but for each other.
 
The practice of connection is foundational to people’s well-being and is fundamentally anti-Fascist. Remembering that you are a human being with your own thoughts and feelings is a great start - but if we want to get really rebellious, you see all those other people? The ones working behind the counter, or passing you on Dodge, or waiting at the DMV with you? They are also human beings and just as deserving of respect and kindness as any other human.
 
Sing with them.