How I learned to stop worrying and love the Elf on the Shelf

Gizmo. Ruby. Mr. Redpants. Since returning from Thanksgiving break, child after child has come into my office — I’m a play therapist — exuberant and primed to tell me about a recently returned family member.

Were these the names of lost and found dogs, as I initially assumed? No.

Nicknames for older cousins visiting from college? Also, no.

Nope, Gizmo and friends collectively go by another name in the commercial world: Elf on the Shelf.

If you’ve managed to avoid this contemporary “tradition,” Elf on the Shelf is a scout for Santa. Seated inconspicuously (or positioned with great creative care) in the family home, its job description focuses on reporting back to the North Pole about a child’s “naughty” or “nice” behavior.

Available for roughly $30 (not including an ever-growing list of accessories and spin-off characters), the Elf requires much effort from parents. If my Facebook feed can be considered an accurate source, each night in December, parents must find new, unique spots from which the Elf can observe children. I’ve seen elves posed as a roofer atop gingerbread houses, and others — complete with a makeshift superhero cape — camouflaged among action figures.

These tableaux may partially explain the devotion of my clients — many are children who have survived or witnessed acts of violence in a city overwhelmed by such acts — to the Elf. Exposed to the ugliness of life at a tender age, to them, the Elf represents a spark of childhood magic their parents work hard to kindle. As a play therapist trained to foster the healing potential of ordinary play behaviors, this intrigues me.

The Elf has its fair share of critics, though.

Some raise concerns about the Elf’s normalization of a surveillance state. Others decry its possible promotion of lying or gullibility. A county judge in Georgia (playfully) banned the Elf, citing the pressure it places on parents to find novel hiding places for the Elf each night.

Yet, Elf on the Shelf appears to be here to stay.

Since its introduction in 2005, more than 19 million Elves have been purchased. The Elf has a lucrative Netflix deal and a float in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Personally, I am inclined to agree with an assessment of Elf on the Shelf as a somewhat creepy, hyper-commercialized tchotchke. Professionally, however, I see the utility of the Elf.

In play therapy, children convey their inner worlds — experiences and emotions — through their natural language of play. Everyday playthings become instruments of social and emotional growth, and trained play therapists create conditions through which children can attain mastery of uncertain environments.

It can help children heal from the impact of unthinkable events and, let’s be honest, the past few years brought a maelstrom of those.

It can help children heal from the impact of unthinkable events and, let’s be honest, the past few years brought a maelstrom of those.

Today’s school-age child has already weathered a pandemic, overheard regular reports of gun violence, and continues to experience a national mental health crisis. If the appeal of a plastic elf in a red felt suit endures, perhaps it’s because it provides a glimpse into things that children so desperately need: a return to familiar routines, a sense of normalcy, and maybe even a little magic.

If families have already embraced a ritual rooted in pretend play, parents have an opportunity to translate that ritual into activities that bolster children’s social and emotional health.

Rather than framing the Elf as a spy, parents might consider introducing him as a friendly holiday visitor and use him as an impetus for focused conversation and play. He can play many roles, such as:

Conversation starter: Parents could write a daily discussion prompt (“Tell me about a time that you felt proud.”) or scenario (“What would you do if a friend asked you to lie?”) on a small white board or a notecard held by the Elf. Families can discuss the daily topic over breakfast or dinner. Regular conversations between parents and children can support positive relationship growth and help children to feel more comfortable broaching future difficult conversations.

Emotional educator: Parents could cut out images of faces portraying different feelings for the Elf to hold each morning, and prompt children to share a time that they experienced the Elf’s “chosen” feeling, or take turns acting out behaviors they associate with the emotion. Children benefit from learning emotional vocabulary and connecting these words to their lived experiences. This practice can help children to access verbal expression when strong emotions arise.

Playful timekeeper: Parents could place a toy clock on the Elf’s lap indicating a scheduled time for the family to engage in CDC-recommended “special play time.” During this 5- to 10-minute period of focused parent-child play, children choose and direct activities. The benefits are well-documented, as the practice is associated with enhanced family relationships and increased confidence.

To some, the Elf on the Shelf may always be seen as a fraud or a marketing scheme. With some care and creativity, perhaps we can see it as children always have, an enchanted elf sent to make the holidays a little brighter. Rather than presents, this reimagined elf brings something far more valuable: family connection in the face of an uncertain world.

Katharine Wenocur is a licensed clinical social worker who coordinates the Child Trauma and Play Therapy concentration within Thomas Jefferson University’s Community and Trauma Counseling program.