I vividly remember my first Thanksgiving in St Andrews. An older student invited me to her flat for the holiday, and a group of us watched cheesy films and savored the dishes she’d made from her family’s traditional recipes. It wasn’t home, exactly, but it certainly took my mind off what I was missing; plus, my host ended up becoming one of my closest friends. In later years, I hosted my own Thanksgivings and invited homesick Americans and confused Brits alike—the latter were particularly charmed by the novelty of pumpkin pie.
Obviously, things are different this year, and I think it’s important to hold space for that. You might not feel like celebrating this year. You’ve been through a lot; maybe you’ve been personally affected by a loss, maybe you’re feeling emotionally exhausted, or maybe you just don’t need another thing to remind you of what life looks like in normal times. If that’s you, it’s completely okay, and I’ve got some suggestions for you too.
If you do want to have a somewhat traditional Thanksgiving, I’m here to help! But here’s the thing: we need to be realistic. If we plan this like the Thanksgiving extravaganza of our pre-pandemic dreams, we’re going to end up disappointed (and very short on refrigerator space). We need to work inside the regulations—which means thinking outside the box.
I’m going to suggest two options, one for if you have access to a kitchen and are feeling social, and one for it you don’t and aren’t.
Option A: Friendsgiving Food Swap
If you’re feeling social and have access to a kitchen, you can share your favourite Thanksgiving dishes safely with a group of friends. Let’s map this out:
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Decide who’s going to be involved. You’re not limited for table space because you’ll all be eating separately—no awkward decisions about whom to invite! That said, it seems sensible to keep it to a manageable size, let’s say ten people or under.
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Set up a shared document. This is how you’ll decide who’s making what. Ask everyone to contribute something they love from their own Thanksgiving dinners—you’ll end up with an eclectic sampling of dishes, and no one’s on the hook for providing the whole meal!
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Cooking/baking time! If schedules align, make it a social event by preparing the dishes simultaneously on Zoom; it’ll be like a massive, ultra-chaotic cooking class.
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Food swap. This is where things get logistically hairy. To keep everyone safe and to comply with regulations, it’s probably best to operate a strict ding-dong-ditch policy: arrange a drop-off time, but avoid any contact. Depending on the number of people in your group, you might have a lot of deliveries to make—take a morning off from studying and turn it into an adventure!
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Zoom and eat! Chat with your friends about the dishes they’ve contributed—recipes usually have good stories behind them!
Photo by Element5 Digital from Pexels
Option B: Solo gratitude and recharge
Maybe you don’t have kitchen access, or maybe you don’t feel like cooking. You might not feel like you have a group of friends yet with whom you’d like to share this holiday—that’s okay too. It’s been hard this year. Maybe this holiday can be a moment for you to pause, regroup, and look after yourself.
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Call home, if that’s something you like to do. There is absolutely no shame in feeling homesick on Thanksgiving (or any other time, really), and there’s no shame in bringing home a little closer. I’m going to gently offer the advice that you not spend all day on the phone; too much time can end up highlighting what you might be missing.
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Make an exceptionally nice cup of cocoa, put on your coziest pair of socks, and curl up to read Pride and Prejudice for the fiftieth time (or whatever your comfort equivalent is). If nothing else, we can always be grateful for chocolate and Jane Austen.
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Write a letter thanking yourself for getting through the year thus far. Thank yourself for your courage, your perseverance, your capacity to heal. Don’t worry, no one needs to read it; go ahead and write whatever you’d like. You might also write to someone who’s helped you this year. You don’t even have to send it if you’d rather not; just writing it will make you feel warm and fuzzy.
Photo by Vincenzo Malagoli from Pexels
No matter how you’re feeling about being away from home for Thanksgiving, let me say how proud of you I am. You’ve made it through the majority of an extremely tumultuous first semester; I know too well how hard the first semester is even in the best circumstances. You’ve shown extraordinary strength. Give yourself a pat on the back, make a nice cup of tea, and use this holiday to rest and reconnect; you’ve earned it.