<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
9302140907
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
931212
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Sunday, December 12, 1993
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
COM
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1F
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1993, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
ONE GUARDIAN GETS HER MESSAGE HEARD
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
Usually, the stupidity of the masses is fought by the integrity of the
few.

  Now and then, it's the other way around.

  Take the case of Jill Burstein. She is a security guard at Detroit's
Renaissance Center. She sits behind a desk in one of the building's many
hallways.
  The RenCen can be a cold, sterile place. So Jill decided to warm it up a
little. At Halloween, she put a pumpkin  on her desk. People smiled when they
walked past.
  At Thanksgiving, she put up two paper turkeys and a balloon. People smiled
again.
  Last week, she hung the words  "Happy Chanukah" across the desk front.
  And her boss told her to get rid of it.
  She asked to see a higher official.
  He told her the same thing.
  "I got very upset, and I was crying," Burstein said. She couldn't
understand  why they hadn't minded the Halloween and Thanksgiving decorations,
but suddenly took offense to a $5 Hannukah message. Was it something against
Jews?
  She was told a tenant had complained. She was  also told the center's
policy: no religious displays outside stores or in hallways.
  Take it down.
  She took it down.
Freedom for most 
  Now, America is a funny place. It was founded on religious freedom, and
birthed in the idea that no man should impose his will or beliefs on another.
  And yet, each December, America is turned over to Christmas, a holiday that
celebrates the birth of one  religious figure, Jesus,  and one religion,
Christianity. Elevators play Christmas music. Shopping malls have huge
Christmas trees. Banks, office centers, and apartment building lobbies are
decorated  with everything from Santa Claus to nativity scenes -- and nobody
complains.
  The radio stations are filled with songs like "Silent Night" or "God Rest
Ye Merry Gentlemen," which includes the lyric "Christ our savior was born on
Christmas Day."
  And nobody complains.
  Public schools put on plays, pageants, children sing Christmas songs,
celebrating the birth of Jesus. And nobody complains.
  That is because Christianity is the majority religion of this nation. And
what the majority wants, the majority usually gets. But think for a moment:
Can you imagine how a Hindu, Muslim, Jew, or atheist  feels this time of year,
shopping in a store with "All hail the newborn king" coming from the
loudspeakers?
  This was Burstein's point. The RenCen had the music, the trees, the
wreaths, the lights.  If you're going to allow one religious message at this
time of year, allow them all. 
  "Take it down," she was told.
  Now. It is worth noting that Jill Burstein was not born Jewish. She married
 a Jewish man, and apparently has learned how to make room in her life for
more than one belief.
  Which is more than could be said for the order-givers at the Renaissance
Center. 
  Until the story  hit the news.
  Then, the RenCen folks began backpedaling. First they said they had never
condoned Burstein's Halloween or Thanksgiving decorations. Then they said it
was simply policy. When asked why trees, wreaths, and Christmas music were
allowed, they said those "are not religious symbols."
  The American Civil Liberties Union and the Anti-Defamation League were in
their face immediately.
  Then came the good part.
Phone calls get through 
  The phone began to ring. And ring and ring.  People supporting Burstein.
People demanding action. Some were Jews, outraged by a possible act of
anti-Semitism.
  But the vast majority were Christians.
  Dozens. Then hundreds. So many that some officials had to take their phone
off the hook. Almost all the callers supported Burstein. They  said things
like, "This is not what being a good Christian is about." Some were so upset,
they were crying. "Please tell Mrs. Burstein we don't all think like that."
  The RenCen people were swamped.  They immediately agreed to change their
policy. Displays will now also be erected for Hannukah, as well as Quanxas and
Las Posadas. The word "inclusiveness" -- I know, a politically correct term,
but one with a good deal of common sense -- will become the policy. The RenCen
will officially "thank" Burstein for bringing the issue to its attention. 
  And Burstein? She's quitting.
  Not over this  incident -- she had planned to leave anyhow. But no doubt
the fuss over a $5 decoration will stay with her for a while.
  "I'm happy with the outcome," she told ADL officials, "I feel good about
things  now." 
  She has a right to feel good. In a funny way, her Hannukah message helped
bring out the bottom-line message of Christmas: Peace on earth and good will
towards men.
  All men.
  Or, in  modern terms, all shoppers.
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