Halloween and Togetherness

At first glance, the idea that Halloween “matters” may seem a bit foolish, particularly when the festivity is juxtaposed next to the great religious holidays of the year, or Thanksgiving’s emphasis on gratitude, or the evocation of sacrifice and service inherent in Memorial, Labor, and Veterans Day. Alexa or Google might tell us that Halloween is rooted in ancient Celtic druidic tradition, but really, hasn’t it become just a gussied-up and commercialized glucose grab for kids, and a way for some adults to justify carousing on a weeknight?  

But I think this sells Halloween short, and in several regards. First, the holiday can provide an understated but authentic way of accentuating togetherness. Think about what actually happens in trick-or-treating: Kids go to neighbors’ homes, greet them, and get a present in return. It is, often quite literally, a sweet way of establishing a sense of welcome for the children of a community. And the adults who look upon it, either as roving chaperones or those doling out the goodies, can find it a warm occasion of connecting with families and friends we might have otherwise missed amidst all the warp and woof of daily life. We see this in the school building, too, in inverted practice: Here, as a concession to pandemic protocols, our teachers move from classroom to classroom to distribute treats to the boys on Halloween afternoon, and the coziness of it all transcends the mere handing out of candy. (And a special nod to our teachers, who are hardworking year-round, but never more impressive than when keeping the classroom focus of a dozen boys who are intent on Skittles and Milky Way bars.)

Halloween is also a terrific time for imagination and creativity. For younger kids, the choice of a costume can be important business, as it extends the sense of pretend and dramatic play that is a vital part of early child development. Often trying on new costumes involves trying on new identities, which provides an outlet for exploring values and emotions; indeed, developmental psychologists have found correlations between the assumption of imaginary roles and characters with the cultivation of empathy, self-regulation, and confidence. For older children and adults, costume-wearing may also offer the chance for pretend, though often at a different register, with creativity channeled into expressions of originality, wit, and craftspersonship, particularly if the costume is handmade. Some of the biggest laughs and “Did you see that?” moments of the school year come when a student or a colleague has set aside their daily necktie or professional attire for something clever or goofy or happily incongruent with their “normal” way of being.

Finally, for all their commitment to intellectual growth, emotional learning, and ethical reflection, schools should be sites of genuine fun. And Halloween is most assuredly that. The world will supply us with ample stresses and pressures and hurts, whether we ask for them or not, and so reserving a day for being a touch silly and candy-addled seems like a pretty good idea—not just for young boys, but for all of us in our school community. (As C.S. Lewis put it, “When I became a man [sic] I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.”) I’ll gladly acknowledge that some of the most jubilant moments of my Browning time have involved our Halloween parade: Proud and excited boys in costume, older students rooting them on, faculty and staff dressing themselves up to the delight of students and peers alike, and the irresistible joy on the faces of parents as we make our way around the block.  

Rituals are important, and they give us occasion to mark times and commitments that are important to our community. I’m proud to be a part of a school that privileges honesty, curiosity, dignity, and purpose—and which also recognizes that these core values can only be enhanced by senses of community, imagination, and fun. These qualities are excellent; so is Halloween.