Yes, I fight with holidays too.
My personal beef with Thanksgiving starts with a mix of nostalgia, anger, and disappointment.
When I was younger, my family would celebrate the holidays at my grandparents’ house. We would all dress up nicely, play games, and obviously, eat turkey and pernil (because Puerto Rico). However, these amazing family holidays are now a thing of the past. Although it might be because we all grew up or because many of my family members moved away, I believe the trigger was my grandfather’s passing away. It’s been almost ten years since Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, and Three Kings Day haven’t been the same. My grandfather was a vibrant figure in the festivities, always adamant about capturing every single moment during the holidays, and he was rarely seen without his camera for more than 30 minutes. In certain periods of the day, there would be over 30 people in the house, and friends of my dad and his brothers would even stop by to say hello. It was straight out of a Modern Family episode. Unfortunately, as I mentioned, we haven’t celebrated this one in almost a decade.
Apart from my family circumstances, I also don’t like celebrating this holiday because of the many families whose memory we spit on every year when we carve a turkey. While it is often celebrated as the time to express gratitude and cherish family, its origins are tied to colonialism, exploitation, and the erasure of Indigenous cultures. The narrative of peaceful cooperation between the Pilgrims and Native Americans overlooks the violence, land theft, and forced assimilation that followed. By celebrating this sanitized version of history, Thanksgiving perpetuates a myth that ignores the suffering faced by Native people, who continue to be marginalized in the United States today. The ongoing struggles faced by Native American communities, like poverty, health disparities, and the fight to protect sacred lands, serve as a stark reminder of the long-lasting impacts of colonization. To participate in a holiday that romanticizes the early encounters between settlers and Native Americans feels like a dismissal of these historical and ongoing injustices, which is why I find it ethically irresponsible to celebrate Thanksgiving.
The final reason why I don’t celebrate Thanksgiving has to do with where I am from and what celebrating this holiday represents. As a very proud Puerto Rican woman, celebrating Thanksgiving feels like a painful contradiction. Honoring a holiday that symbolizes the suffering of Native American people, especially when Puerto Rico remains a modern-day colony of the same country responsible for the genocide of Native Americans, just doesn’t feel right. The United States imposed Thanksgiving on us, expecting us to accept a narrative that erases the violent history towards Indigenous communities, even as Puerto Ricans continue to grapple with the ongoing impacts of colonization. Our political and economic struggles are in large part due to the US, as decisions about our land, resources, and future are made without our input. To celebrate a holiday rooted in colonialism while living under its enduring effects feels hypocritical and wrong, reinforcing the erasure of our own identity and the continued exploitation of colonized people.
In the end, everyone has the freedom to choose whether or not to celebrate, and not carving a turkey every November won’t bring back the innocent lives lost to colonization. However, I do encourage everyone to educate themselves and remain sensitive to the reasons why some choose to boycott this holiday. Understanding the painful history behind Thanksgiving is important. While some may still find meaning in their own family traditions, it’s essential to respect and acknowledge why others may choose to reject it altogether. And if you feel that you need a day to be thankful for your life and loved ones, there are 364 other days to do so.