May Baskets Are Not a Thing in Massachusetts. Why?
I’ve lived in Massachusetts for a decade, and I thought that I’d pretty much assimilated in every way. This morning, I was proven wrong, when I asked about May Day baskets and coworkers looked at me as though I had sprouted antlers.
Apparently, they are not a ‘thing’ in Massachusetts. And that’s both a shame and easy to fix.
Some people recognize May Day for its ties to workers’ movements: It was declared International Workers’ Day in 1889. Others may be familiar with the idea of the maypole and other spring festivals.
But what I’m talking about is the specific lost treasure that was the May basket.
Growing up in a Minnesota suburb, kids in my neighborhood made little baskets out of paper and dropped them on front stoops. They were filled with candy, flowers, or other handmade tidbits — little tokens of friendship and a proclamation of springtime.
The entire operation is anonymous and non-reciprocal. You hang a basket on the doorknob (or place it on the door step — paper handles aren’t always conducive to bearing weight), and ding dong ditch which, to be honest, was a large part of the tradition’s appeal.
In a nice turn of events, it’s also typically a holiday done by children, rather than adults. It had the kind of low-maintenance preparation time available in your second grade classroom, or after school on April 30 while snacking on Dunkaroos.
I, for one, think that this should re-emerge as a tradition. Who doesn’t want a little handmade token of anonymous appreciation on the first day of May?
This isn’t just a bit of Midwestern kitsch. There’s a historical precedent, even here in Massachusetts.
The tradition harkens back to the celebration of Beltane, the pagan festival of spring. This is why you see flowers, love, candy… all things sweet and nice to celebrate that the harsh, cold winter is over.
NPR reported that, in May 1889, The Taunton Gazette told the story of a young man who walked a mile and a half to leave a basket on the door of a girl he liked, only to find another basket hanging from its knob.
In 1925, two young children left baskets on the doorstep of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue — to the delight of Grace Coolidge, the first lady at the time.
Louisa May Alcott mentions it in her book Jack and Jill.
Yes, these references are all almost a century (or more) old. It is an old-fashioned tradition that has mostly died. But we have the power to bring it back. It’s not too late. All you need to do is go to Market Basket on your lunch break, buy a bag of Starburst and some paper, and you’re in business.
Plus, when was the last time you ding dong ditched someone?
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