Every December, thousands of men and women across America slip into a red suit, fluff a white beard, and become the living embodiment of Christmas magic. To most of us, it looks like the ultimate seasonal side hustle. To them? It’s a calling—sometimes deeper and more life-defining than ministry, teaching, or any “respectable” profession.
A fascinating new study published in the *Academy of Management Journal* interviewed 53 professional Santas and analyzed survey responses from nearly 1,300 others. The verdict? For many, being Santa isn’t a job. It’s who they are when they’re finally being the most authentic version of themselves.
And yes—many of them really do answer to “Santa” all year round.
When the Suit Fits… Too Well
Researchers gave every Santa a cosmic pseudonym (think Santa Apus, Santa Phoenix, Santa Lynx) to protect their identities—fitting, since most insist on being addressed only as “Santa” once they commit to the role.
The study revealed something we all intuitively know: there’s a very specific cultural prototype of Santa Claus—white, male, white-haired, real-bearded, jolly-bellied, extroverted, able-bodied, heterosexual, and Christian. Step into a mall in that exact image, and the world opens its arms. Deviate in any direction, and things get complicated fast.
The Ones Who Were Told “We Aren’t Ready for That”
Santa Apus, a Black professional Santa, left a voicemail for a major retailer. The hiring manager gushed over his rich, warm voice—until she learned he was African American.
“Are you Black?” she asked.
When he said yes, the tone changed completely:
“We don’t hire any Black Santas or Hispanic Santas. We aren’t ready for that.”
The rejection was crushing, but it didn’t shake his conviction. For him, Santa is a ministry. “I want to make this part of my ministry,” he said. “To help bring people closer to Christ and celebrate His birthday.”
Others face subtler barriers. Introverted Santas feel like impostors in the big chair. Skinnier Santas joke they’re “on the new North Pole diet” after delivering billions of cookies. Hearing-impaired Santas tell children their cochlear implant is a direct microphone to the elves.
One Santa who lost 192 pounds summed it up perfectly:
“I’m more *fit* as Santa instead of just fitting the part.”
The Women Who Bind Themselves into the Role
Female Santas (yes, they exist—and they’re incredible) face a different kind of transformation. Santa Lynx spends up to 90 minutes applying beard and makeup—compared to the five minutes it takes a naturally bearded Santa. She uses binders or trans-tape to flatten her chest so convincingly that she still had bruises months later.
She’s been sent hate mail and once got turned away from a Santa school because the organizer decided her presence would be “distracting” to the men. (They offered Mrs. Claus school instead.)
Her response?
“Santa can embody acceptance, joy, love, and understanding. Gender shouldn’t matter.”
Two Kinds of Santas When Christmas Ends
When the tinsel comes down, professional Santas diverge into two clear camps:
1. **Year-Round Santas**
Red polo shirts in July. Santa-themed license plates. Coins in the pocket to reward well-behaved kids spotted in the grocery store.
“You’re never off,” one said. “You lose a little of your own identity because you never know who’s watching.”
2. **Seasonal Santas**
They love the role fiercely for four months, then happily hang the suit in the closet and go back to being Dave or Lisa or whoever they were in January.
“I don’t want to be Santa 24/7,” one explained. “There’s too much of *me* I still want to live.”
Redefining Santa from the Inside Out
The Santas who deviate most from the prototype—Black Santas, Jewish Santas, gay Santas, atheist Santas, female Santas—almost universally live the role year-round. Once they strip Santa down to the core values (kindness with no expectation of return, radical acceptance, joy for joy’s sake), the beard and belly stop mattering.
As one gay Santa put it:
“If you make Santa Christian-only, you exclude a lot of people. I prefer Santa who accepts everyone without judgment.”
An atheist Santa added:
“Everything I love about Santa has nothing to do with religion. You’re kind to people for the sake of being kind. Cookies optional.”
The Price of the Red Suit
It’s not all magic. Some bleach their beards until their faces burn. Others maintain extra weight for “authenticity.” Many never drink or smoke in public—ever. One 58-year-old keeps his long white beard because shaving it off would make him look decades younger… and instantly unhirable.
And yet, when they talk about the moment a child’s face lights up with pure awe? Every sacrifice suddenly feels worth it.
What the North Pole Teaches the Rest of Us
Lead researcher Christina Hymer says the professional Santa world is an extreme but illuminating case study in something we all face: what happens when you feel deeply called to a role that society says you don’t “look like”?
Teachers who don’t match the stereotype. Nurses who don’t fit the old image. Leaders, artists, helpers of every kind who hear a voice saying, “This is what I was meant to do,” even when the world replies, “But you don’t look the part.”
The Santas figured out the answer: focus on the why, not the wrapper.
Because in the end, the magic was never about the red suit.
It was about the heart underneath it.