Every family has its holiday routines. In many Black households, the kitchen hums before sunrise, and depending on the house you grew up in, the “children’s table” is still very much alive.
And let’s be honest: some of the people relegated there are fully grown, paying rent and filing taxes. Yet there they sit, knees squeezed under a folding table, pretending this is normal.
Most families laugh about it. But something less funny happens when the grown-ups table gradually stops making room — not for young adults, but for the older adults who helped establish these traditions in the first place.
It doesn’t happen all at once. It happens in moments. People talk around them. Talk over them. Move faster than they can respond. Or assume they’re no longer interested in certain conversations or decisions.
And yes, sometimes they repeat themselves — occasionally twice, sometimes three times. But repetition is part of family life. Many of us have told the same story repeatedly to the same people; elders shouldn’t be singled out for something the rest of us do regularly.
Besides, none of us knows how many more holidays we get together. Why rush anyone? Why treat the stories that shaped us as interruptions instead of gifts?
Some elders respond by shrinking back. They stick to their knitting, keep quiet and fade into the background so they won’t be in the way. Others do the opposite and become self-appointed experts on everything from politics to potato salad technique. And younger relatives don’t escape blame either — many smile politely, nod at convenient moments and wait for conversations to wrap up. But polite toleration is not the same as genuine connection.
And connection is exactly what this season requires.
This year, with so much noise in the world — conflict abroad, debate at home and more confusion than clarity — Christmas offers us a rare and necessary chance to slow down. To breathe. To notice the people who sit right in front of us. Peace isn’t only the absence of conflict; peace is the presence of care. And one of the clearest ways to create it is by tending to the relationships that anchor our families, especially the ones that stretch across generations.
This Christmas, include elders in your conversations. Ask about the traditions that mattered to them. Invite them to weigh in on the menu or the music. Let them finish their stories, even if you can recite the ending yourself. These stories are family history delivered in real time, not something you can look up later.
And while you’re buying gifts, remember the elders in your family. They don’t need anything expensive. A framed photo. A handwritten note. A promise to stop by once a month. A breakfast outing. These gestures carry far more weight than anything wrapped in shiny paper.
Elders have a responsibility too. Don’t assume your voice has expired. Speak when you have something to contribute. Laugh freely. Join the fun. You helped build these traditions — your presence is part of the celebration. Take your seat. It’s yours.
Christmas isn’t complete until every generation is seen, welcomed and included. And the celebration is always richer when the people who helped build the family are fully part of the joy.
Frances Murphy Draper is CEO and publisher of The AFRO-American Newspapers.