Photo credit: Getty Images
During the pandemic, among other things, many children will be deprived of a normal Halloween. Sure, some will do the usual, regardless, but many will be compelled to make alternate plans or forgo trick-or-treat altogether. So what? Well, a conversation I had with a morally indignant colleague some time ago illustrates why this holiday can prove valuable for youngsters.
“I consider Halloween a celebration of evil,” he told me, claiming it causes psychological harm to young children.
“If you call scarfing down a pound of chocolate evil, I’ll buy that,” I replied, attempting, unsuccessfully, to dilute his intensity with a little humor.
“Encouraging children to dress up like fiends, monsters and killers is like honoring the demonic; even the devil,” he continued, undeterred.
“Granted, some kids wear pretty macabre costumes, but I find it hard to believe a little lass at my door dressed as a wicked witch is worshipping Beelzebub,” I countered. “Even if she came as Hannibal Lecter, I’d have trouble with your premise.”
“It’s not just the costumes!” he fumed. “It’s the whole idea of having a holiday that glorifies evil, horror and cruelty. What kind of a message does that send to our children?”
Horror and Sucrose?
I was prepared to dismiss his over-the-top carping with a trite brush-off like, “Chill out,” but, to his credit, the man made me curious about what, if any, symbolic meaning lurks inside Halloween. I realize this feast of horror and sucrose (which, for some with poor impulse control, become synonymous) is generally regarded as an offshoot of an ancient Celtic celebration for the dead. But what do we modern folk make of it?
Stay on top of the news of the day
Subscribe to our free, daily e-newsletter to get Milwaukee's latest local news, restaurants, music, arts and entertainment and events delivered right to your inbox every weekday, plus a bonus Week in Review email on Saturdays.
While our intention may be simply to let kids cavort around their neighborhoods playing make-believe while writhing in candy gluttony, what do they gain, subconsciously, by celebrating the dark side of life — death, monsters, bloody mayhem and the like? Well, for many youngsters Halloween serves at least one significant, although largely unrecognized psychological purpose. It desensitizes their fears toward inner demons, those menacing shapes, shadows and specters that populate the nightmares and waking terrors of many young children. What’s more, to a lesser degree, it serves the same function in relation to the very tangible horrors of the external world. But how?
By draping themselves in frightening personas, kids experience a degree of mastery over that which so often masters them—the demonic icons populating their imaginations. Only by safely approaching and, in the case of costumes, actually inhabiting that which they find scary can many little ones loosen the grip of irrational fears that inhabit their psyches. This is consistent with psychological studies showing that mastering one’s fears, whether as a child or adult, requires facing them head-on. For little kids, donning a menacing costume, hiding one’s identity and role playing a nasty character lessens their dread.
Am I attaching too much psychological significance to Halloween? From an adult perspective, probably, but from inside the psyches of young children, where fantasy and reality often seem indistinguishable, I doubt it. You see, the trouble with inner demons is that they are invisible, except in one’s fantasies and nightmares, so grappling with them requires using symbolism (costumes) and ritual (trick or treat). This renders objects of terror visible, less gruesome and more vulnerable.
Like the indigenous peoples who danced in ceremonial masks to depict the deities and devils they alternately worshipped and feared, our children assume the forms of the monsters, spirits and phantasms that, should they materialize from their imaginations, would send them screaming into the night. Am I suggesting Halloween be viewed as a convoluted form of child psychotherapy in which parents probe for their little one’s phobic buttons and adorn them in costumes most illustrative of their deepest fears? Please no. But I am proposing that when little Billy from next door climbs your front stoop looking like Count Dracula or Freddie Krueger, he isn’t paying homage to demons. Mentally, he’s subduing them.
So, give the kid a treat. Exorcising mental monsters is hard work.
For more, visit philipchard.com.
To read more Out of My Mind columns, click here.
