I came to the United States as a five-year-old girl with my parents and my sister. We were brand new to everything—wide-eyed and taking it all in. I remember so many of those “firsts,” and my first Halloween is one I will never forget.
About a year after we arrived, I had made a little friend named Claudia. She lived in the building next door to ours in. We spent most afternoons together playing on the playground.
One evening, there was a knock at our door. My dad opened it, and there was Claudia with her mom. I ran over, so excited to see her—but she looked… very strange! She had face paint on and was dressed like a bunny, holding a little plastic bucket. She smiled brightly, stuck the bucket out toward me and said something I didn’t understand (I now know it was “trick or treat!”).
I peered inside and saw so much candy. I was thrilled because I thought she was offering it to me. I reached in to grab a piece—but she quickly pulled the bucket back. I was so confused! My dad laughed a little, said something to her mom, then pulled out a dollar bill and dropped it inside her bucket. Everyone giggled… except me. I was still trying to figure out what just happened!
By the next year, I had caught on. I got my angel costume and I was ready. I went trick-or-treating year after year until I was a teenager, when it all turned into funny costumes and parties.
But now, as a mother, things feel very different.
My beliefs, my understanding of the world, and the way I want to raise my children have all become clearer—and somewhere along the way, Halloween stopped fitting. It no longer lines up with what I value. I don’t like the idea of sending my children door-to-door asking for candy, and I don’t like the themes that surround the holiday—spirits, darkness, fear, ghosts, zombies, witches… I have to stop and honestly ask: what is this really celebrating? And why am I participating?
“Because everyone else does it” is no longer enough for me.
So this year, I’m done with Halloween. I’m letting my children know that it’s not something our family values. I can appreciate the sweet and innocent parts—dressing up playfully, sharing treats, spending time with friends—but for us, those will simply be fun activities, not part of a holiday we claim as our own.
Funny enough, I think I prefer my original interpretation from that very first Halloween: I thought Claudia was coming to share candy. A celebration of giving, not asking.
Maybe that’s the kind of tradition I want instead.
So… are you still celebrating Halloween? Let me know below.