Preface
The following oral history chronicles the systematic deconstruction of Meridian Financial Services' 2024 holiday party, as told by the employees who lived through it. What began as traditional office celebration planning evolved into a case study in institutional paralysis, culminating in an event so thoroughly sanitized it achieved a kind of anti-party perfection.
Photo: Meridian Financial Services, via img.shgstatic.com
These are their stories.
JANET MORRISON, HR Director: Look, I want to be clear from the start—we had good intentions. The goal was simple: plan an inclusive holiday party that everyone could enjoy. How were we supposed to know that "inclusive" and "enjoyable" would turn out to be mutually exclusive concepts?
Photo: Janet Morrison, via janetmorrisonbooks.com
DAVID CHEN, Accounting Manager: The first red flag should have been when they formed a committee to form the committee. I've never seen anything like it. We had a pre-planning planning meeting to discuss the framework for planning.
SARAH WILLIAMS, Marketing Coordinator: I volunteered because I thought it would be fun. I'd organized my sorority's mixers in college. How hard could a office party be? [Laughs bitterly] I was so naive.
Photo: Sarah Williams, via media.foratravel.com
Chapter 1: The Great Alcohol Debate
MORRISON: The alcohol question came up in week two. Someone—I won't say who—raised concerns about "creating an exclusionary environment for non-drinkers." Before I knew it, we'd scheduled three separate meetings to discuss beverage inclusivity.
CHEN: They brought in actual research. Printed studies about workplace drinking culture and its impact on employee engagement. For a Christmas party. I started updating my résumé during the second alcohol symposium.
WILLIAMS: The compromise was "mindful beverage options." We spent $400 on fancy sparkling water and kombucha. The kombucha had trace amounts of alcohol, which triggered another round of meetings about whether trace amounts constituted exclusion.
MARCUS RODRIGUEZ, IT Support: I suggested beer. Just beer. Maybe some wine. They looked at me like I'd proposed a cocaine fountain. Someone actually said the words "problematic beverage culture" with a straight face.
Chapter 2: The Tinsel Controversy
WILLIAMS: The decorations committee—yes, we had a decorations committee—spent six hours debating tinsel. Six. Hours.
MORRISON: The issue was whether metallic decorations reinforced "materialistic holiday messaging." Plus, someone found an article about how tinsel production impacts migratory bird patterns.
RODRIGUEZ: They ended up banning all shiny decorations. Our Christmas party looked like a Quaker meeting hall. Very subdued. Very beige.
CHEN: The final decoration budget was $73. We bought some plants and called them "winter greenery." They looked exactly like the plants that were already in the office, just arranged differently.
Chapter 3: The Secret Santa Inquisition
MORRISON: Secret Santa seemed innocent enough until someone raised concerns about "gift-giving pressure" and its impact on employees with different economic backgrounds.
WILLIAMS: They formed a Gift Equity Subcommittee. I wish I was making that up. The subcommittee determined that any gift exchange inherently created "economic performance anxiety."
RODRIGUEZ: The alternative was "Gratitude Sharing." Everyone writes anonymous notes of appreciation that get read aloud. It was like group therapy, but sadder.
CHEN: I got a gratitude note that said "Thank you for your consistent attendance." My most noteworthy quality, apparently, was showing up to work. I've never felt more valued.
Chapter 4: The Word 'Holiday' Becomes Problematic
MORRISON: Week eight, someone questioned whether "holiday party" was inclusive of employees who don't celebrate holidays. Any holidays. We'd apparently created a "celebration-normative environment."
WILLIAMS: The solution was "Winter Workplace Gathering." Which sounds like a corporate hostage situation.
RODRIGUEZ: I asked what we were gathering for if not holidays. Nobody had an answer. We were gathering for the sake of gathering. Very existential.
CHEN: The email invitation was a masterpiece of saying nothing: "You're invited to join your colleagues for an inclusive winter workplace experience featuring mindful refreshments and community connection opportunities." I showed it to my wife. She thought it was a joke.
Chapter 5: The Cheese Board Crisis
WILLIAMS: The cheese board debate lasted three weeks. Three weeks. Apparently, dairy products exclude lactose-intolerant employees and vegans, while also "normalizing animal exploitation."
MORRISON: Someone suggested a "plant-based cheese experience," but then we had to consider nut allergies, soy sensitivities, and whether cashew-based cheese appropriated tree nut culture. Yes, tree nut culture is apparently a thing.
RODRIGUEZ: We ended up with crackers. Just crackers. Sad, lonely crackers arranged on plates like edible confetti from a funeral.
CHEN: I brought my own cheese from home and ate it in my car. It felt rebellious.
Chapter 6: The Final Solution
MORRISON: By month four, we'd eliminated alcohol, decorations, gifts, the word "holiday," music (too culturally specific), games (too competitive), and food (too exclusionary). We were left with sparkling water and small talk.
WILLIAMS: The final event was held on a Tuesday afternoon from 2:30 to 3:15 PM. Forty-five minutes. In the conference room. With a land acknowledgment read by HR.
RODRIGUEZ: The land acknowledgment lasted twelve minutes. Longer than most people stayed at the actual party.
CHEN: I counted seventeen people who showed up. Out of 200 employees. Most left after the land acknowledgment. I stayed for the full forty-five minutes because I'm a completionist.
WILLIAMS: The highlight was when someone asked if we were going to do this again next year. The silence that followed could have powered a small city.
Epilogue: Lessons Learned
MORRISON: I've since left HR to become a yoga instructor. Much less stressful. Much more honest about what we're actually doing.
CHEN: Our department started doing happy hours at the bar down the street. No committees. No frameworks. Just colleagues drinking beer and complaining about work like nature intended.
WILLIAMS: I learned that good intentions plus committee structure equals paralysis. Also, that it's possible to overthink literally anything, including crackers.
RODRIGUEZ: Next year I'm volunteering to plan the party. My entire proposal is three words: "Pizza and beer." Revolutionary stuff.
The 2025 holiday party planning committee has not yet been formed. Early reports suggest they're forming a committee to determine whether forming a committee is appropriate.