When I was little, I refused to believe I was Jewish. “I celebrate Christmas, not Chanukah,” I would say.

Despite my 5-year-old defiance towards the rest of my family, of which every single living member is one hundred percent Jewish, my parents allowed me to persist in my winter holiday celebration — even though it was technically the wrong holiday. Every year I got to help decorate the Christmas tree of a family friend, and instead of my parents’ presenting with me with gifts as the candles on the menorah diminished to melted wax, somehow Santa always snuck one into my bedroom when I wasn’t looking for me to find under my bed or on my bookshelf.

Now, ten years later, each December I partake in the traditions of my Jewish heritage — lighting the menorah, spinning the dreidel, cooking latkes on my stove and enjoying them with applesauce, and the like — because although being ethnically Jewish does not automatically constitute following Jewish practices, I’ve grown to enjoy Chanukah, and spending time with my family has deepened my appreciation for the traditions that bring us together.

I do, however, still share, to an extent, the Christmas spirit present in much of the world around me. Although you won’t find a Christmas tree adorned with ornaments in my living room or stockings above the fireplace in my house, I absolutely love to eat candy canes, and I can belt the lyrics of a holiday classic just as well as the next person — just a little less in tune.

As a non-Christian, I have never taken offense at the celebration of a holiday that is not religiously “mine.” I live in the United States after all, where religious freedom is a fundamental ideal held dear by most citizens. I’m not upset or put off by the many Christmas celebrators in the world around me, or the many times I am wished a merry Christmas instead of a happy Chanukah or a happy holidays — in fact, exposure to traditions I don’t personally share allows me to develop a better understanding of other religions and their practices.

Parker, an institution that prides itself on being a democracy, should not prohibit the word “Christmas” in passing-period music and the Twelve Days Morning Ex. Although banning the word was likely well-intentioned, a product of the administration attempting to include every culture and make them feel comfortable during the holiday season, the school should foster an environment consistent with its democratic, equitable values. Regardless of whether that means free expression of all religions, or the banning of all, the school should set a policy not only applying to all religions, but consistent with its mission.

The day of the Twelve Days Morning Ex, during C and D period, Santa Claus — a Christmas staple — went around to each Upper School classroom to say “ho ho ho!” and pass out candy canes — two more Christmas staples. The gesture was indisputably well-intentioned, but if the school was to go as far as to send Santa into each class — a grandiose display of Christmas spirit, much larger than saying the word “Christmas” — isn’t it self-contradictory to censor hallway music, a Parker tradition, just for containing one nine-letter word?

I have a teacher who has called Parker the most secular place they’ve ever been. If this is true, and if the administration strives to cultivate democratic values within the school community, they should allow equal practice of all religious traditions, especially around the most well-known holiday season. After all, what’s December without a little holiday spirit?