HANUKKAH, CHRISTMAS, KWANZAA CAN ALL FIT IN.

Byline: Akilah Monifa

AS a child I never had peaches that were not from a can and packed in syrup. Likewise, our Christmas tree was not green unless the color wheel was passing the green segment and reflected on the aluminum.

I never understood the drama of purchasing and decorating a Christmas tree. When my family was ready for the tree, we simply removed the box from the storage area, set up the pole and inserted the branches in their matching color-coded slots. We didn't have special ornaments, just multicolored metal balls. But culturally, in our community, that's how everyone decorated for Christmas.

I don't recall ever believing in Santa Claus - maybe because we never had a chimney. Our presents, which were plentiful, were all neatly wrapped under the aluminum tree with name tags clearly marked ``to'' and ``from.''

Until I was 11, I grew up, originally in Kansas and then in Alabama, in a middle-class African-American - then called black or sometimes still Negro or colored - household. I do recall seeing Santa at a shopping center but not being allowed to approach, make requests or stand in the line because it was reserved for whites only.

So maybe it wasn't so much the lack of a chimney but rather segregation that caused me not to believe in Santa Claus. I do recall seeing black Santa Clauses, but I knew that they were fake because all of the images in print or in the movies were of a white Santa Claus.

Maybe I thought that the ``White Christmas'' many desired was just that: a Christmas for whites only. Certainly at that time, George Wallace, the governor of Alabama, would have wished for such a Christmas.

But then a scant nine years after my birth, Kwanzaa was created - in 1966, to be exact. I probably wasn't immediately aware of its existence, but when I first heard of it, it was referred to as the ``Black Christmas'' Surely this was invented in the segregated South, where for so long there had been only ``White Christmas.'' At 19, I moved to New York and learned it wasn't really a ``Black Christmas,'' despite the fact that it was invented and celebrated by and for African-Americans. And it hadn't been invented in the South, but rather in California.

But now as our societies and communities become more multicultural and cross-cultural we all celebrate numerous holidays in December, including those historically or originally reserved for ethnicities other than our own. Hanukkah, Winter Solstice, Christmas and Kwanzaa all usually come in the second half of December.

I regularly get invited to Hanukkah gatherings, and I am never the only non-Jewish person there. Christmas is not relegated to the Christians anymore, and it is a cultural phenomenon unto itself, replete with all its commercialism.

And now, Kwanzaa is constantly being attacked for being separatist and even worst, black nationalist. But, at the last few celebrations I have attended, there have been quite a few non-African-Americans present.

I do not see Kwanzaa, a Swahili word meaning ``first fruit,'' as separatist or promoting black nationalism. Rather, I celebrate Kwanzaa as a nod to my African roots, an acknowledgment that I am of African descent despite the fact that I do not know from which country on that vast continent my ancestors came. In many ways, this is why Kwanzaa is so attractive to me. That it borrows from numerous African cultures is appropriate to the nonspecificity of the cultural and ethnic heritage of most African-Americans. There is cultural pride in Jewish holidays and Irish holidays, and so the descendants of the African diaspora should also have and celebrate cultural pride.

Kwanzaa has seven principles that many of us try to embody year-round and not just during the seven days of Kwanzaa, Dec. 26 through Jan. 1. Umoja/unity, Kujichagulia/self-determination, Ujima/collective work, Ujamaa/cooperative economics, Nia/purpose, Kuumba/creativity and Imani/faith. The symbols of Kwanzaa are representative of the history and future of African-Americans, those of race, bloodshed and struggle, family and hope.

Now in its third decade of celebration, Kwanzaa is recognized by more than the 18 million who celebrate it annually. Last year the United States Postal Service honored Kwanzaa with a stamp. Hallmark sells Kwanzaa cards, and many media outlets mention Kwanzaa in the same breath as Hanukkah and Christmas.

But after my painful beginnings of ``White Christmas,'' it is liberating and joyful to celebrate Kwanzaa and to have public recognition of it. So many images in the media beyond Santa Claus are white and exclusive, not reflective of people of color.

I am an advocate of acknowledging and celebrating our multicultural roots. So there is room for Hanukkah, Christmas and Kwanzaa. I will celebrate them all to various degrees, but Kwanzaa is the one I feel most connected with.

So I simply wish everyone: Happy Holidays!