From childhood I have been uneasy with the the way Native peoples
were talked about, especially around Thanksgiving. As a child I didn’t
quite know what it was, but something was wrong with the story. As I
learned more about the genocide and theft of land, the endless broken
treaties and the ongoing struggles of First Nations People, I looked for
another way to spend the holiday. For many years we celebrated the
harvest of our small farm with friends and family, preparing a meal
almost entirely home grown.
In the late 1990s, my family began traveling to Plymouth,
Massachusetts to attend the National Day of Mourning held by the United
American Indians of New England. The orientation leaflet for the day
states "An annual tradition since 1970, Day of Mourning is a solemn,
spiritual and highly political day. Many of us fast from sundown the
day before through the afternoon of that day (and have a social after
the Day of Mourning so that participants can break their fasts). We are
mourning our ancestors and the genocide of our peoples and the theft of
our lands." Non-Native supporters are welcome to stand with the
gathering, but it is a day when only indigenous people speak about their
history and the struggles taking place through out the Americas. Being
present each year has become an important way to honor the more
difficult history that brings us to the present.
With hopes that I could find a more complete telling of the story for
my grandchildren, I wandered into one of my favorite independent
bookstores that has a fabulous children's section. I was distressed to
find a display of picture books that fell into roughly two categories -
books that replay the mythology of the Pilgrims and the Indians as one
big happy family having a festival together, or ones that focused on
Thanksgiving as a family time (and sometimes a harvest time) - and all
the people at the table were white. I was amazed to see how little had
changed.
But then, I shouldn’t be amazed. The work of AFSC in grappling with
structural racism and other remnants of colonialism have taught me how
deeply embedded they are, both in the U.S. and around the globe. So
this Thanksgiving/Day of Mourning, I invite you to spend a little time
thinking about the continuing impact of the colonization of this land
and its peoples, about how histories/origin stories get written and by
whom, and what stories we want to pass on to our children and
grandchildren. And for those who want to offer alternative stories to
the children in your life, go to the article in Colorlines that offers five books that reframe the Thanksgiving Narrative. And here is a piece on the Wampanoag Side of the Story.