Winter, Solstice, Story & Choice
Before Christmas, before empire, before calendars told us when joy was allowed, winter already had meaning.
For Indigenous Nations, winter is not empty time. It is not a pause in life. It is a season that carries responsibility.
Among the Ho-Chunk, winter has always been understood as a turning point. The shortest days and the longest night are not something to fear. They are acknowledged. The winter solstice marks a moment when darkness has reached its depth and the light begins its slow return.
This is not just symbolic. It is lived. It is practical. It is relational.
Winter is when we prepare for spring, not by rushing toward it, but by doing the work that has to happen first.
Winter as Teaching Time
Traditionally, winter is when certain stories are told. These are not casual stories or entertainment. They carry teachings about behavior, responsibility, kinship, humility, and survival. They remind us how the world works and how we are expected to live within it.
Some stories are only told in winter because the beings within them are resting. Some teachings are meant for long nights, when people gather close, when listening matters more than speaking, when memory sharpens in the quiet.
Winter is also when certain ceremonies pause or change. Not everything is meant to be done year round. Knowing when to stop is part of knowing how to live well. That teaches balance and respect.
For the Ho-Chunk, winter has always been about preparation and return. We are not waiting passively for spring. We are readying ourselves to meet it properly. Spiritually. Mentally. As families and as a people.
That readiness includes rest, reflection, repairing relationships, and remembering who we are to each other.
That is ceremony.
Where Christmas Actually Came From
This is the part many of us were never taught clearly.
Christmas is not an ancient Christian holiday.
The Bible does not give a date for the birth of Jesus. Early Christians did not celebrate his birth at all. For the first few centuries of Christianity, Christmas did not exist.
It emerged later, when Christianity became tied to political power.
Across Europe, people were already marking the winter solstice through long-standing ceremonies. In Rome, Saturnalia centered on rest, feasting, gift exchange, and temporary equality. In northern Europe, Yule focused on fires, evergreen plants, communal meals, storytelling, and honoring the return of light.
These celebrations were deeply rooted. They could not simply be erased.
When the Roman Empire adopted Christianity, the Church made a calculated decision. Instead of eliminating existing winter celebrations, it aligned Jesus’ birth with them. December 25 was chosen not because it was historically accurate, but because it worked.
This is where the Catholic Church enters the story in a very real way.
Existing solstice traditions were absorbed and given Christian meaning. Evergreen trees, candles, feasts, gift giving, and light symbolism were not created by Christianity. They were taken, reframed, and authorized through church power.
People were allowed to keep familiar practices, but under a new authority.
Christmas, as we know it, was not born sacred. It was made useful.
From Empire Holiday to Colonial Tool
Once Christianity was tied to empire, it did not stay in Europe.
As colonization spread, Christianity spread with it. Christmas followed. Indigenous ceremonies were suppressed while Christian holidays were enforced. Boarding schools and mission systems punished Indigenous people for practicing their own traditions while demanding participation in Christian ones.
Christmas became part of a larger system of replacement.
Replace Indigenous ceremony with church attendance.
Replace land-based calendars with church calendars.
Replace clan responsibility with religious doctrine.
Winter, which had once been a time of grounding and teaching, became a season of control.
This is where guilt entered Indigenous bodies. Not naturally. Not accidentally.
The Shift Into Consumerism
Then came another change.
In the modern era, Christmas became fully tied to capitalism.
What began as a repurposed religious holiday turned into a consumer event. Buying gifts became proof of love. Spending became expectation. Advertising taught people that care, belonging, and joy had a price tag.
For Indigenous people, this hits especially hard.
Our cultures are rooted in generosity, not excess. In care, not accumulation. In making sure our people are okay, not in proving worth through purchases.
We want to give our people everything.
We want our children and elders to feel held.
So when we cannot afford to buy gifts, or when we choose not to participate in consumer pressure, guilt shows up. Not because we do not care, but because we care deeply.
Colonial systems took Indigenous generosity and turned it into obligation and shame.
That guilt is not Indigenous. It was taught.
Returning to Ho-Chunk Ways
Today, many Ho-Chunk people are intentionally returning to our teachings.
We are remembering that winter is not something to fill with noise. It is something to move through with care. We are reclaiming story season. We are teaching our children when certain stories are told and why that matters. We are honoring rest as medicine. We are rebuilding kinship, not just observing dates.
Some families still celebrate Christmas. Some blend traditions. Some step away entirely. What matters is that the choice is conscious and rooted in our values, not forced by guilt or pressure.
Winter does not belong to empire.
Light does not belong to the Church.
Meaning does not belong to corporations.
Winter belongs to the land and to the people who have always lived with it.
Honoring All Choices and Holding Space
There is no single right way to move through this season.
You may celebrate Christmas fully.
You may celebrate parts of it.
You may honor winter through rest, story, or ceremony.
You may blend traditions or create something new.
All of that is valid.
At the same time, we encourage learning. We encourage asking questions. We encourage stepping back into our culture and teachings at your own pace.
Hisgexjį Horak exists to support that return. This is a safe place to learn, to remember, to reconnect, and to do so without judgment. Whether you are deeply rooted, just beginning, or somewhere in between, you are welcome here.
However you choose to celebrate or not celebrate, we honor that.
However winter looks in your home, we respect that.
May this season bring rest, reflection, and the steady return of light.
Sunshine Thomas-Bear
Hisgexjį Horak