Hope nobody choked on a bone from that traditional Thanksgiving turkey.
Speaking or rather writing of that traditional Thanksgiving Day, have you ever wondered about the true origins of Thanksgiving?
Almost everyone thinks nice thoughts about this holiday. We have visions of the North American Native inhabitants inviting the European newcomers to a feast. Extending a helping hand to welcomed pioneers. A time of sharing, not only of knowledge and food, but of well-being. The colonizer and the colonized dealing peacefully with hardships as partners. It is considered, in this light, a celebration of mutually dependent survival.
Nothing could be farther from the truth. The day of Thanksgiving has the dark evil roots of colonialism. Hate towards a different race and culture are the birthplace of Thanksgiving.
Back in the 1500s, the Governor of Plymouth Rock gathered his colony’s militia and attacked a peaceful town of 300 Whampanogs. They killed every man, woman and child in a surprise attack. Returning after a waging this successful campaign to exterminate “vermin,” he declared a day of Thanksgiving. This day has been celebrated ever since.
One might argue that the meaning has changed. Today people celebrate this holiday for different reasons than the Puritan celebration of mass murder. Today’s celebration is a non-Native symbol that non-Native and Native people can get along. As Native people, the implications are that we should be grateful for this olive branch extended to us in the form of changing the meaning of Thanksgiving.
In this way, it ultimately becomes an expression of self-denial. It is saying that settler peoples did not practice genocidal activities against the Native peoples. The roots of Thanksgiving goes back to paganistic holidays. Past histories taught us that most cultures had some sort of ritual or celebration at this time of year.
What does celebrating Thanksgiving mean to me?
Some of these thoughts were on my mind this Thanksgiving at Ernie’s. Later, I was sitting there looking around at my friends. Everyone contributed something to the occasion. Turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, soup, pumpkin pies, carrot and blueberry pies and, my favourite, the pickled carrots. Still looking for that recipie.
It was a happy event that we had come together to celebrate. To talk, laugh and, of course, eat. It was a comfortable sense of well-being. I was truly happy to see all the faces. I guess once a year to remember the past, celebrate the survival.of people and peoples, to eat and be merry is the least amount of time I would want to do this.
I still don’t know if it’s right, but when people gather in the right spirit to celebrate together, I have a hard time finding something wrong with that. Maybe1 we could just acknowledge the past and move on.
