I don’t wanna do Thanksgiving this year.
There, I said it.
Just being honest.
I mean, I’m sure you all know that the term ‘Thanksgiving’ came from a speech given in 1637 by John Winthrop, declaring it a day to celebrate the slaughter of hundreds of Pequot men, women and children, right?
Yeah good old Johnny was living with the Pequot for a time, learning how to survive in Massachussets climate.Then one day him and his folks decided it better to burn down the entire village, killing over 700 men, women, elders and children.
And then, the next day, he declared his gratitude that the murders had been made, and thus the ‘Thanksgiving Feast’ was born through this famous speech.
It wasn’t until the 1800’s that Abe Lincoln came along and said it would probably better to only feast in celebration of mass genocide once a year, since by that time it was happening more often, thus the annual ‘holiday’ we know of today was born.
And yeah, I know that for you, this ritual may not be about that.
It may just be a time to get together with family around the table to practice some good old ritual animal sacrifice. I mean, it’s wholesome, right? To eat every inflammatory food imaginable during the coldest time of the year, just to make sure you fully destroy your gut biome before winter?
It wouldn’t be polite to say no.
And that’s the thing about it.
Mom is in town.
And we love our moms and never wanna disappoint her.
We don’t want her to have to explain to the whole white family and all their friends why I’m not there. No one wants to talk about ‘Indians’ at Thanksgiving! How rude.
Hoenstly, sometimes I’ve shown up for thanksgiving even when I was vegan and anti-colonist simply because I thought it was the right thing to do to be with family and continue their traditions.
But when I’d sit there, poking at my mashed potatoes and marveling how potatoes were the only food our own irish ancestors were allowed to eat because all the rest of the meat fish and vegetables were shipped out of ireland under armed guard to england while the irish people starved (listen to ‘the famine’ by sinead oconnor for the whole story) , i wonder WTF???
I look around and see people hugging and dancing, glued to the tv watching sports with inflamed bellies and clogged arteries.
How could I destroy this entire paradigm they’ve built? Am I gonna be the guy in the scenario who flips the entire table, starts beating on her frame drum and demanding we burn down the suburbs and give the land back to the indigenous?
Is that really the vibe? Lol
What’s the right thing to do?!
One year I was living high up in Modoc territory in what’s now occupied Quincy, CA.
I was ranch sitting for a friend who raised chickens, rabbits, turkeys, and goats.
One Thanksgiving, My job was to feed this wonderful living turkey named ‘Ted’.
He was so fat and funny. I’d come at sunrise with his special feed and his little giblet would get all gobbly. I’d sit on a stool in his area and sing to him and talk and chat and giggle.
It was so sweet because on Thanksgiving morning we shared some apples and grapes, and I spent time contemplating my own relationship with eating animals.
Back in the day, if you wanted to eat a turkey for a feast, you had to nurture it first.
Every day you’d have to get up and go say hi. And hear them gobble. You’d give them a name.
You’d be their friend and nurture their life. You’d laugh at their fluffed up feathers. You’re heart would remember them after they were gone.
Anyways, one day, on Christmas morning, when it was time, my friend on the ranch went out with his axe and chopped the turkey’s head off. There was blood and feathers all over the ice and snow when I arrived that day.
The kids were a bit shocked.
But that’s the truth of it, isn’t it?
Did we trick that turkey by fattening it up, loving it up, only to secretly be keeping it’s wild body to a golden chain of promise that one day, we would take it’s life and devour it’s flesh?
I dunno but the house smelled amazing.
My friend buttered up that turkey and massaged it with fresh herbs from the garden.
They spent all day cooking it low and slow, basting it in gravy, and I felt the thankfulness in it.
I felt the true relationship the family had with the land, with the animals, and with life.
The more they nurtured it, the more grateful they were when it was time to make the necessary sacrifice and transform it’s body into life force for their whole family.
And that’s the thing.
Wrong and Right.
Reminds me of this week’s runes, Tiwaz, Tyr, or ‘Justice’ and Berkano, Birch, or ‘Nurturing’
There’s so much grey area when it comes to what’s right. Of course I wanna see my mom and give her a big hug and share a warm meal and give thanks to our ancestors for bringing us here.
It’s hard,though to be thankful to the ones who lied, cheated, stole and tricked others into their resources and basic needs. It’s hard for me to feel like it’s the right thing to do to sit around that table.
Like the God Tyr, who sacrificed his hand to Fenris in order to preserve the world from Ragnarok, doing the right thing sometimes means losing one’s place in society.
I’d rather be on Alcatraz Island anyways, offering tobacco to the fire and watching the Aztec, Maidu, Modoc, Pomo, and Ohlone dance and pray for their home and cultures to be protected and safe.
I’d rather eat turkeys that I’ve talked story over apples with in the early morning.
I’d rather know the truth and not be a part of a great lie.
I’d rather sacrifice that feeling of full belly and kinship for the truth.
I won’t ever be at the head of the table with a carving knife.
I’ll never be the lady in the apron adding brown sugar to the yams.
But I will give my thanks. Everyday.
And I will from my own roots birth feast culture that is in alignment again.
I will make beautiful tables of charcuterie and ales, and offer them to friends in true thanks. Like the rune Berkano offers, I will generate from within those traditions that heal our communities and inspire love and gentleness.
I will sing songs of turkeys past and friends. We’ll dance in a circle. We’ll tell stories around the fire. We’ll weave our knotwork and our baskets and our embroidery. We’ll eat from the forest and the garden. We’ll laugh while we do the work.
And it will feel grounded. And true. And honest. And thankful.
And this will be the healing of our fractured nation.
But before we can get to that love, we gotta be honest.
We gotta stop pretending like we don’t know what’s going on.
We gotta remember the Pequot.
.
.
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#unthanksgiving#indigenouspeoplesday#tiwaz#berkano#elderfutharkrunes
