My black top hat with a Crayola yellow square drawn in the middle threatens to fall off at any moment as my fourth-grade class reenacts what we think is the history of Thanksgiving. After the play, my nine-year-old boyfriend, accessorized with colorful cardboard feathers, brings me half his turkey sandwich and a Welch’s fruit snack. “Here,” he says, “I have to share with you because you’re a Pilgrim, and I’m only an Indian.” Naturally, I took his offer thinking solely about the sweetness of the strawberry flavored gummies and not the implications of Jessie’s words. But now, many gummies later, I have the time to stop and think. In fact, I have an obligation to stop and think. Why, at nine years old, did Jessie believe that Native Americans owed anything to the Separatists? Why did my school allow—no, encourage—the appropriation of Indigenous culture? So many questions, none of which American public school systems or other institutions of power are honestly answering. Yet, we shouldn’t submit to ignorance only on the basis that it’s remarkably widespread. Wanting to enjoy Thanksgiving without having to face the unrelenting realities isn’t a tangible justification either, although it’s the one I hear the most. If we can’t, as a nation, appreciate the truth, then we’ll keep celebrating a lie. And frankly, Santa Claus surfeits the number of lies I’m willing to accept during the holidays.
I know this year has been filled with difficult questions and uncomfortable dialogues, but I urge you to keep going. I’m not saying to lock yourself in your room instead of enjoying the presence of your loved ones this Thanksgiving (although a small break from Nana might be necessary). I merely suggest that facilitating these discussions and surpassing our American History textbooks promotes a culture of inclusivity and acceptance.
To lead by example, I’ve spoken to Sheila Gomez, my Indigenous classmate.
Her Campus (HC): How do you feel about the depictions of Thanksgiving by institutions of power (schools, the government, big corporations, etc.)?
Sheila Gomez (SG): Educators can still talk about Thanksgiving, but [it should be] through accurate history and respectfully. They can start by replacing the terms “Indians” and “Pilgrims” with specifics like the Wampanoag who helped the English or Separatists (pilgrims) survive. And it shouldn’t only be taught when Thanksgiving is approaching. That can be damaging, especially with the presumptions of Native Americans being non-existent. It can also generate stereotypes of how Natives are supposed to look based on the images students see in the books and crafts teachers want to use.
HC: What does Thanksgiving mean to you?
SG: Thanksgiving means being able to talk about why the history of this holiday has been used as a form of national identity while also creating harmful misconceptions of Native Americans. Being able to rethink how I celebrate Thanksgiving and take it into a new practice. [She gives an example of how one can do this:] You can help create new dishes for your Thanksgiving this year by learning about and making the traditional foods that honor the Indigenous peoples in your area.
While my conversation with Sheila was enthralling, my quest for answers didn’t stop there. Indigenous peoples’ experiences are not monolithic, and it would be wrong of me to fall victim to such a thoroughly propagated notion. I kept searching because it’s time we stop blindly accepting and begin actively questioning. I’ve learned and unlearned tremendously in the few hours I’ve dedicated to uncovering the history of Thanksgiving, and it didn’t take an expensive textbook or hours of research. I started with this article, Nick Cannon’s “CannonsClass” video edition on Thanksgiving and Now This News’ video “The Harsh Truth About Thanksgiving.” Where will you start?
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