I know this isn't how Thanksgiving is usually celebrated. More often than not, it is a holiday of gluttony. Women, as a rule, are expected to cook and clean so that their families can overeat, fall asleep to various football games on TV, and then eat turkey sandwiches for supper. Some mark Thanksgiving as the beginning of their Christmas shopping frenzy. And still others rediscover their loneliness without friends or family to welcome them to a feast. I grew up with all of this as normative - including the racist mythology and lies I learned in both elementary school and church - in Congregationalist New England. And yet I trust that there is a deeper and more noble truth taking place among us at Thanksgiving, too.
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. set me on this path upon hearing his words at the March on Washington's "I Have a Dream" speech:
We’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked insufficient funds. But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt.
Tom Hayden's, The Love of Possession is Like a Disease with Them; Dee Brown's, Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee; Carol Hanish's, The Personal is Political; Erich Fromm's, Escape from Freedom; Dick Gregory's, No More Lies: The Myth and Reality of American History; Howard Zinn's, A Peoples History of the United States; James Loween's, Lies My Teacher Told Me; and Angela Davis' Women, Race and Class: all helped me sort out the deeper truths from the lies. And then I heard it all come together, history and truth synthesized in poetry, by Langston Hughes:
Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.
(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.
(There’s never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)
Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak...
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. set me on this path upon hearing his words at the March on Washington's "I Have a Dream" speech:
We’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked insufficient funds. But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt.
Tom Hayden's, The Love of Possession is Like a Disease with Them; Dee Brown's, Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee; Carol Hanish's, The Personal is Political; Erich Fromm's, Escape from Freedom; Dick Gregory's, No More Lies: The Myth and Reality of American History; Howard Zinn's, A Peoples History of the United States; James Loween's, Lies My Teacher Told Me; and Angela Davis' Women, Race and Class: all helped me sort out the deeper truths from the lies. And then I heard it all come together, history and truth synthesized in poetry, by Langston Hughes:
Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.
(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.
(There’s never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)
Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak...
Pete Seeger helped me. So did Dylan and Baez. Same goes for Patrick Sky, Holly Near and Ronnie Gilbert. Phil Ochs, Odetta, Tom Paxton and Richie Havens, too as well as Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, Gil-Scott Heron, the Last Poets and Aretha Franklyn. And let's not forget Frank Zappa. All of these artists came together in the work of Bruce Springsteen who made the correction of our history an essential ingredient to popular culture.
All and each of these wisdom seekers have incrementally helped me let go of the idealized mythology of America's founding I inherited. At the same time, they have given artistic shape to our shared longing for authentic community. They have taught me that Thanksgiving is endemic to every culture. Some celebrate feasts that honor Mother Earth and the abundance of the fall harvest. That's part of how I honor this holiday today. Others make it a festival of coexistence and respect - and that rings true to me, too. A variety of religious traditions have reclaimed Thanksgiving for interfaith gatherings - and I believe these celebrations are crucial. And little by little, we are finding other new/old ways to reconsider the real American experience: the good, the bad and the ugly.
My hope for you as you enter this holy day is that you do so with with an open heart and a compassionate mind. May the gravitas of this moment in time be present in your feasting. May your own vulnerability and need for others be honored. And may gratitude grow among you so that our quest for a more perfect union matures.
All and each of these wisdom seekers have incrementally helped me let go of the idealized mythology of America's founding I inherited. At the same time, they have given artistic shape to our shared longing for authentic community. They have taught me that Thanksgiving is endemic to every culture. Some celebrate feasts that honor Mother Earth and the abundance of the fall harvest. That's part of how I honor this holiday today. Others make it a festival of coexistence and respect - and that rings true to me, too. A variety of religious traditions have reclaimed Thanksgiving for interfaith gatherings - and I believe these celebrations are crucial. And little by little, we are finding other new/old ways to reconsider the real American experience: the good, the bad and the ugly.
My hope for you as you enter this holy day is that you do so with with an open heart and a compassionate mind. May the gravitas of this moment in time be present in your feasting. May your own vulnerability and need for others be honored. And may gratitude grow among you so that our quest for a more perfect union matures.
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